"It's all propaganda concocted by scandal-vids that want to make money."

"Yeah, but the reason it is propaganda is because it works." Phelan sat up straight and gently slapped Victor's right shoulder with the back of his left hand. "Coming in-system I saw dozens of news reports about you. Arc-Royal was going nuts because you are here. You're the Inner Sphere's most eligible bachelor, quiaff?You're not half bad-looking and you're a war hero. You are a somebody. "

"But I don't likeit."

"The hell you don't."

"I don't."

"Victor, you're afraid to like it. You are afraid you will begin to believe the courtiers and then you'll isolate yourself in a world of sycophants. You're afraid you'll end up as out of touch as Maximilian Liao and be overthrown. So you insulate yourself from that possibility, which means you insulate yourself from a lot of normal folks." Phelan chewed his lower lip for a second. "For all her show, do you think Katrina believes half the things she's told?"

"No." Victor shook his head confidently. "She knows that the second she's out of earshot some of the women are going to start sniping and she knows that many of the men are complimentary in hopes of one night they can build memoirs around. She's no fool."

"No, she isn't. She comes in and befriends everyone. She manages to be kind to them, making each one think they are important to her. If she has to refuse an invitation to dance or spend the night or visit an estate, it's always with deep regrets. If Katrina detested someone, he'd never know it, he'd never have a clue. You, you'd take him out and shoot him."

"Yeah, or send him up against the Wolf Clan," the Prince chuckled. "And her name is Katherine."

"There you go again."

"What?"

"What difference does it make if she wants to change her name to that of your grandmother? It's a nice gesture and one that was received quite well back there at the reception." Phelan glanced toward the building behind them. "In fact, it played much better in the trenches than your exit."

Victor stood and kicked at a stone. "Meaning?"

Phelan shrugged. "Meaning the Lyran Commonwealth and the Federated Suns have spent a lot of money and a lot of blood fighting the Draconis Combine. I don't think anyone would begrudge you and Omi happiness, and folks are enjoying the heck out of peace between the Commonwealth and Combine. Some people are bound to resent your rescue of Hohiro, but that's because they're remembering the past, not thinking of the future. They will come around, but you have to give them time."

"I know, I know. Wags already have it that we've got one 'love child' stashed on Terra. The Galactic Insinuatoreven put together a holovid with actors." Victor slammed his right fist into his left palm, then turned back to Phelan. "A Circle of Equals would have been a wonderful way to settle that problem."

The Wolf Khan stood and stretched. "Fighting with the press is like wrestling with pigs: you maywin, but you willget dirty. I feel the same way in dealing with the Smoke Jaguars. Look, let some people in. Learn from Katrina. Open up a bit, let people see what you are like. Let them get to know you, so they can sympathize with you. Let them like you so they can root for you and Omi to have a chance at cementing a peace that is, right now, fragile."

"Wise words."

"Thank you." Phelan pointed at Victor's robes. "Better do up that sash, or folks will assume you and Omi were discovered in deepconversation."

The Prince nodded and reknotted the sash. "Why did you tell me all this, Phelan, really? If I succeed in doing what you suggest, when the truce is up we will be stable and ready for you."

"I'll give you two choices—you pick one. First, we're cousins and I don't want to see a nation and a people I care deeply about suffer because no one will speak frankly to you. Second, I'm from the Clans, and a strong, stable Federated Commonwealth will give me the greatest chance to cover myself in martial glory."

"How about I choose 'all of the above.' "

Phelan threw his arm around Victor's shoulders and steered him back toward the party. "Bargained well and done."

11

Arc-Royal

Federated Commonwealth

17 April 3055

 

Christian Kell rubbed his chin with his right hand. "I like it, but I'm not certain I'm the sort of person who should be advising you on fashion." He glanced up from the computer screen to Evantha Fetladral's face and back down. "Katrina is really the one to make decisions like this."

Evantha studied the screen intently. She looked to Chris as if she were treating it like a battlefield puzzle she could solve with superior tactics. "I just do not know. This is entirely outside my realm of experience."

The shopkeeper, a small man with a thin moustache and thinner hair, clasped his hands together at his breastbone. "You must trust me, mademoiselle. This is perfect for you. Because you have such height, broad shoulders, and such a trim waist, we want to use this strapless bodice to emphasize your figure. The black velvet bolero jacket helps soften some of those arm muscles. The flowing gown is really the sort of thing that is de rigueur this season, and the scattered rhinestones throughout hint at the more exotic and wild side of your nature."

Evantha looked at the man, then back at the screen where the garments had been painted over a video-sample of her body. "But this is going quite far afield when what I want to do is wear my uniform." She frowned. "Bondsman, your opinion?"

Ragnar studied the screen for a moment, then nodded.

"It will do very nicely for it really is like your uniform, only feminized in keeping with current fashion."

Chris nodded in agreement. "Allof the Kell Hound women officers have made the change to something more stylish for the banquet. It might be impractical, but who can understand the world of fashion?"

Ragnar tapped the computer screen. "Perhaps you would feel less naked if they added two stars, right here and here, on either side of the jacket collar, just like insignia."

Evantha slowly smiled. "You are very observant, Ragnar. Very good." She nodded to dressmaker. "You will have it ready by sixteen hundred hours today?"

"Today?" The man started to shake his head no, but Chris nodded confidently and the dressmaker aped him. "Ah, yes, anything for a friend of Major Kell." He glanced at Chris again and added, "And I will deliver it personally, just in case we need to tuck it in or let it out a bit."

"Bargained well and done." Evantha clapped the man on each shoulder, and for a half-second Chris feared the dressmaker would collapse like a ship with its keel smashed in.

"Thank you, Andre. Send the bill to me." Chris smiled as the man rolled his eyes. He ushered the two Clansfolk back out into the narrow, cobbled streets of Old Connaught, and pulled the little shop's door closed behind him. "Andre" does very good work. You will be pleased."

Evantha nodded and the sunlight gleamed from her nearly shaven head. Her long braid of red hair started back near the crown, roughly where a samurai would have located his top-knot, and hung down her back, even beyond the waist of the Kell Hound jacket she had borrowed for the outing. "I find this curious. I am more nervous about wearing these clothes than I have ever been about entering battle."