A shower, her robe, and, after, wine in the garden with the stars spread above like some fantastical tapestry – Kamele spared a sigh for the impossible, and handed him the bottle.
"That is, hands down, the best thing anyone has said to me today."
His eyebrows rose as he took the bottle and walked with her toward the dining alcove.
"A chancy venture, indeed," he murmured, so seriously that she had to laugh, though it sounded a little high in her own ears.
"I'll be out soon," she said, dropping her 'book on the counter.
Jen Sar moved his shoulders. "You needn't rush on my account. I'll sit here quietly and plan my retreat."
That brought her around to frown at him.
"Jen Sar?"
He glanced up from his perusal of the wine label, face attentive. "Yes?"
"Why," Kamele asked, "did you gimmick the door?"
"Ah. Because the Chapelia have Theo's name and I couldn't be certain that they would not come here, since we had thwarted them at the gate. While your instruction that Theo not answer the door was sage, I felt it would be far less fatiguing for all if the door merely... discouraged visitors."
Kamele felt her shoulders sag. "I didn't expect them to be that – wait!" She reviewed their conversation thus far, and unhappily concluded that at no time had he said that her daughter was home. It was important, when speaking with Jen Sar, to keep track of those things that had not been said, as well as those which had. In fifteen years, she had acquired some facility, but tonight she was so tired...
"Where," she asked firmly, "is Theo?"
He sighed, deeply. "It is my fate to be found an abuser of youth."
Kamele took a breath. "Does that mean she's with some Simple, being – "
"It means that the child is asleep in her bed, with her cat on her pillow," he interrupted sharply. He threw his arms wide, theatrically. "I am altogether cast down and forlorn! Who could have supposed but that I would have been so incompetent as to allow a brace of unranked Simples to bear a child of my house away from beneath my very nose?"
Almost, she laughed, which was of course what he wanted her to do. She bit her lip and tried to look stern. "How much did you pay them?"
He gazed at her reproachfully. "Kamele, the exigencies of the day have disordered you. Surely you are aware that a mere male cannot buy a minor child from the Simples. That is for her mother to do."
"Yes..." she said, with strained patience. "So why didn't the Simple 'escort' her?"
"Because the Simples believe me to be Theo Waitley," he said, with the air of confessing all. He folded his hands before him and gazed up at her, his face bearing an expression of improbable innocence.
Kamele closed her eyes. Opened them.
"I am going to take a shower," she said, enunciating every word clearly.
"An excellent plan," he answered gravely, and gave her a small bow.
Chapter Fifteen
University of Delgado
Faculty Residence Wall
Quadrant Eight, Building Two
Feeling considerably less grubby and somewhat refreshed, her hair in a loose damp cloud around her robed shoulders, Kamele paused to survey the dining nook.
Two places had been set, a disposable cup, plate, and napkin at each. The wine bottle was unsealed and sat ready to hand, as was a kaf-dispensed "hostess tray" of assorted crackers and cheeses. Jen Sar sat in what had already become "Theo's place" in Kamele's mind, his back against the wall and his attention almost palpably on his mumu. She loved to watch him this way, wrapt so close in thought that he seemed to quiver, oblivious to all and everyone around him.
Of course, Jen Sar was never entirely oblivious to his surroundings.
He looked up, blinking as if just roused from a pleasant sleep, and gave her a dreamy smile.
"There now, that's more in the mode."
She laughed slightly and slipped onto her stool. "You have a very odd idea of mode, sir."
"No, there you are out!" he answered. "I have an expert's idea of mode."
He reached for the bottle, the twisted silver ring that he never took off gleaming on his smallest finger. "Wine?"
"Please," she said with feeling.
"This day of yours begins to take on the proportions of an epic," he murmured, pouring for them both. "Or was every sweet fruit served at the late meeting?"
Kamele took the cup from him and sipped, womanfully not wrinkling her nose at the taste. She had gotten much too accustomed to Jen Sar's wines, purchased from a merchant in Efraim, who imported cases from mountainous Alpensward. Jen Sar's draw, as the Gallowglass Professor of Cultural Genetics, was dizzying levels above hers as a newly minted full professor, even counting the absent sub-chair's percentage. The annual bonus he inevitably collected for his part in attracting quality students to the associated colleges comprising Delgado University didn't hurt either.
Carefully, she sipped her wine, hoping it would taste less dreadful this time. It had been a long time since she'd chivvied herself for resting comfortable on the laurels of her onagrata. She must be more tired than she'd thought.
"The day," she said, putting her cup down, "was long. The meeting," she looked into Jen Sar's attentive face, "was both unexpected and... horrifying."
"Dear me." He pushed the cheese tray toward her. "Please, fortify yourself and tell all."
"I think you would have needed to be present for the full impact of the horror," she said, absently choosing a pepper cracker and a slice of soy cheese. "The telling of it is short enough: Flandin – the forensics team believes it was Flandin, and I hope their instinct is right. I'm really not equipped to handle a university-wide conspiracy! But, the sum is that Flandin appears to have gotten into the college's archives and altered the documents on file to match the citations published in her papers."
"I'll allow that to be terrifying." Jen Sar sipped his wine; Kamele thought he put the cup down with a bit more alacrity than usual. "How was the deed discovered, if the source matched the cite?"
"Professor Beltaire is an expert in the subject of one of the... falsified cites. She had her own copies of the material held in the archives."
Jen Sar tipped his head. "Copies."
"Yes, precisely. The originals are on Melchiza."
"Ah." He gathered up a cracker and a bit of cheese.
"Professor Beltaire describes herself as too elderly to undertake the journey," Kamele said, glancing at her cup and then away. "I think there may be some... political... anxieties there, too. Crowley will go, and Able."
Jen Sar sent her a sideways glance from beneath thick dark lashes. "And yourself?"
"Oh, yes," Kamele said, grimly. "I'm going. After all, I started this; it's up to me to see it done, and done correctly." She rubbed her eyes and against her better judgment reached again for the wine cup. "Which brings me to my topic. I'd like to leave Theo with you while I'm gone."
Both eyebrows rose – never a good sign – and a shadow of what might have been shock passed over his face.
"Leave Theo with me!" he exclaimed.
She raised a hand. "I'll take care of the paperwork, if you agree. Normally, of course, I would leave her with Ella, but after this evening – " Her voice caught and she looked away, raising the cup for a swallow of wine.
"Ella, this evening," she told the tabletop, unable to quite meet Jen Sar's eyes; "counseled me to accept the Safety Office's therapy for Theo. For the good of my career."
Jen Sar would hear the hurt in her voice, and she was sorry for it. He and Ella had never become comfortable with each other, though they tried, for her sake. But Ella – she and Ella had been friends since secondary school; they'd shared junior scholar quarters in the Lower Wall. In the normal way of things, Ella would have been Theo's secondmother, as involved in her education and well-being as Kamele herself...