But was he surprised?
His bodyguard and his major domo stood waiting while he scowled at the message.
“Lord Tatiseigi,” he said equably, “has sent an invitation to morning tea.”
“Will you decline it, nandi?” Koharu asked. Even a country lad from Najida could parse that situation.
Oh, he couldeasily decline it—lie, claim prior engagement, and pointedly invite Tatiseigi to supper tomorrow evening. Breakfasts were for intimatescwhich God knew they weren’t. The old man might have taken some offense at a luncheon invitation instead of a formal supper—and—God! the social dance got weirder. Tatiseigi above all people knew he had no head cook. He did have one, in orbit—and Bindanda was indeed coming.
But Bindanda having been Tatiseigi’s former cook, who had defected from Tatiseigi’s service, for various reasons—the old man would be interested in his arrival. When Bindanda finally got here, he would beyond any doubt elect to serve the paidhi-aiji and notgo back to Tatiseigi, which was Bindanda’s choice to makecup to a point.
And this morning Tabini had told him Bindanda didn’t belong to either of them, but to himc
One needed aspirin. Several.
And best hold the first and conciliatory meeting before the Bindanda situation truly hit the fan. He hadn’t even thought of the fuss over Bindanda entering the picture. He’d just presumed on the status between him and Tatiseigi at their lastinteraction. He’d tried to save the old man a serving of Najida country fare that was far too spicy for the old man’s taste, and he could hardly operate like Cajeiri and invite himselfto Tatiseigi’s dinner table.
But one didn’tdecline a luncheon and then offer a tea. That was pure Tatiseigi pique, with nothing left to the imagination.
If he wanted to play the social game, then the exchange of elegantly written invitations, each triggering another, could go on for days, until Bindanda was on the planet and on duty. Then the social politics would assuredly get crazier, which was exactly what he didn’t want.
Well, he’d clearly taken a step too far too fast with the old man, and Tatiseigi had come back at him with a mild slap in the face, as if he were still some junior court official.
Which he probably was, somewhere in Tatiseigi’s thinking—the old man could drag up arguments from fifty years ago as passionately as if they were current.
Damn, damn, and damn.
Tatiseigi’s attachment to the aiji-dowager on this issue was a must. He played politics like a master, he wielded a unifying influence on the otherwise fragmented and eccentric conservative side, he was mad about the cell phone issue, he was probably mostly mad at Ilisidi, who had run off to Malguri on her own agenda, instead of conferring with him. And he was mad because he wanted the world rolled back several hundred years, before telephones, television, computers, and humans falling out of the heavens.
No. The paidhi-aiji had started this, naively assuming Tatiseigi’s curiosity would overwhelm his temper, and while things hadn’t gone as badly as they could, they were not going that well. He was going to have to see it through himself without calling in reinforcements. And he was going to have to fix it before Ilisidi had to deal with it.
He went to his office and wrote, humbly:
Bren-paidhi Lord of Najida to Tatiseigi Lord of the Ata geini,
One is delighted and honored to accept your invitation to morning tea.
And he sohoped Tatiseigi might spend an hour wondering if he had somehow erred and given the paidhi-aiji exactly what he wanted.
7
It was pleasant to see Madam Saidin again, and the apartment staff which now served Lord Tatiseigi. Only a few weeks ago the paidhi had lived here. He had known every curlicue of the baroque furnishings, enjoyed the fine cuisine, and adopted the old-fashioned manners of the household with a professional curiosity.
Now the paidhi-aiji was a midmorning guest in Lord Tatiseigi’s premises, very primly received but with a gratifying warmth on the part of the staff which had lately served him.
Lord Tatiseigi’s feelings were another matter.
“One is very pleased to receive you, nandi,” Saidin had said, including Banichi and Jago in the pronoun, and with a wave of her hand had indicated the path to the hall, and the sitting room, and Lord Tatiseigi’s hospitality.
The porcelain was prominently displayed in a place of honor, in the center of the small, stout table behind the couch. It echoed very well the muted greens of the room, grayed blue-greens with blue-green and gold accents, seaweed supporting a spiral explosion of colorful fishes and sea life.
Bren had the seat Saidin indicated for him, with his back to the door, and Banichi and Jago took their stations at the top of the room. The opposite chair was, of course, Tatiseigi’s, who predictibly showed up just a shade late—requiring a guest to rise, bow, and settle again, facing the old man and his two bodyguards on the far side of the room.
And of course there was the slow service of tea, in all its elaboration—tea in a very familiar middle-grade tea service.
But was there an initial comment on the porcelain? No. One heard Tatiseigi’s observations on the weather—the paidhi, having no windows in his suite, had only the remotest idea what the weather was outside, and the old man was surely not ignorant of that fact.
They came down to the second pot of tea still without a single mention of the porcelain, which strongly indicated it was not considered a nonbusiness topic.
Conversation finally reached, midway through that pot, and after the teacakes: “And how do you fare, nand’ paidhi?”
“Oh, well recovered, nandi, and very glad not to be traveling. One hopes to find you well.”
“Quite well,” Tatiseigi said with a gracious nod. “And your staff?”
“Well, nandi. And your staff, nandi? One hopes they are all in good health?”
It ran like that, over the various polite topics, ranging from, “And how are things at Najida?” and “One hopes, nandi, that Tirnamardi has finished its repairsc” to which the prickliest, chilly answer was:
“The hedges, unfortunately, will take decades.”
“Yet it was damage taken in a brave actionc” For which,he was about to say, one is everlastingly grateful,intending a smooth segue on to the gift and the porcelains, and thence, perhaps, to the splendor of Tatisegi’s collection and his discrimination, to entice the old man into a better mood.
“A brave action that has in no wise eliminated the fools who challenge the aishidi’tat and from which we apparently have not yet learned!” Click went the teacup onto the side table. “Nand’ paidhi, one is greatly distressed— greatlydistressed!—to arrive in Shejidan to find my grandnephew led into yet another untoward adventure out on the coast, and then led into an entirely unfortunate meeting with Edi savages!”
Damn.
“The risk to your grandnephew, nandi, was both unanticipated by highest-level security inquiry and extreme; but he acquitted himself well in every circumstance. As for the Edi—”