Martinez glanced at the statue with a morose eye and went on his way.
The Shelley Palace was a huge old thing, several buildings connected by galleries and passages, built over centuries in a succession of architectural styles, horned stone demons capering on the rooftop next to sleek, metallic abstracts of the Devis mode. Lord and Lady Shelley now lived in a smaller, more modern building on a more fashionable street, rented the front part of their old palace to the Martinez sisters, and used the buildings in back as storage for old retainers and penniless relations, who were often seen drifting about the courtyard garden like ancient, homeless ghosts.
Martinez was let into the building by a young, homely maidservant—no woman in the household was allowed to outshine the Martinez sisters. He was taken to the south drawing room, the one with the view of the Lower City, where he found his sisters Vipsania and Walpurga. They rose so he could buss their cheeks.
“Cocktail?” Vipsania asked.
“Why not?”
“We’ve just made a pitcher of blue melon.”
“That would suit.”
Martinez took his drink—which was neither blue nor contained melon—and took a chair facing his sisters.
Vipsania wore a mauve gown, and Walpurga a turquoise one. Otherwise the sisters looked very much alike, sharing Martinez’s olive skin and dark hair and eyes. Vipsania’s face was perhaps a little sharper, and Walpurga’s jaw a little fuller. Like Martinez, they were tall, and like Martinez, their height was in the length of their spine, not their legs. Both were imposing more than beautiful, and intelligent much more than not.
Martinez couldn’t imagine how he came to be related to either one of them.
“We heard from Roland,” Walpurga said. “He’s coming to Zanshaa.”
Roland was Martinez’s older brother, the presumed heir to the feudal privilege enjoyed by the Martinez clan on Laredo.
“Why?” Martinez asked.
“He’s coming for the Great Master’s end.”
Mental calculations flickered through Martinez’s mind. “Word hasn’t reached Laredo by now, surely.”
“No. He anticipated.”
“He wants to be in at the death?” Martinez wondered.
“He wants to be in at thebeginning, ” Vipsania said. “He wants to petition the Convocation to open Chee and Parkhurst to settlement.”
Under Martinez patronage, of course. That was clear but unstated.
Chee and Parkhurst were two habitable worlds that had been discovered by the Exploration Service in the heyday of planetary discovery, ages ago. As far as anyone knew, they could be reached only by way of wormholes in Laredo’s system. Both had been scheduled for settlement, but as the number of Great Masters had grown smaller, so had their ambitions. The expansion of the empire had halted, and the Exploration Service reduced to a fragment of its former self.
It had long been the ambition of the Martinez clan to sponsor habitation of the two nearly forgotten worlds. To be patrons ofthree worlds—nowthat would elevate them to the highest, most rarified ranks of the Peerage.
“I wouldn’t expect the Lords Convocate to alter the Great Masters’ policy with any speed,” Martinez asked.
Vipsania shook her head. “There areplenty of little projects left unfinished. Not all planets to be settled, of course, but appointments to be made, contracts awarded, grants offered, awards rendered, revenues to be collected or disbursed…if Roland, with Lord Pierre’s help, can find enough allies in the Convocation, I think the project can move along very well.”
Martinez grimaced. “I hope Roland can get more action out of Lord Pierre than I can,” he said. “And speaking of Lord Pierre, he’s got a cousin named PJ who—”
“Gareth!”
Martinez rose as his youngest sister, Sempronia, rushed into the room. She flung her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. He returned the embrace with pleasure.
Martinez genetics had reached back many generations to find whatever had provided Sempronia’s template. Her wavy light-brown hair had lightened to gold in the sun, and her hazel eyes were likewise flecked with gold, both hair and eyes contrasting dramatically with the Martinez olive complexion. Her nose was tip-tilted, her lips full, her legs long. She was the only one of his sisters in whom Martinez could at all see the lively girl he had left behind, years ago, on Laredo.
“What have I missed?” Sempronia asked.
“I was about to broach the subject of your marriage,” Martinez said.
Sempronia’s eyes widened. “Mymarriage?”
“One of you, anyway. It doesn’t seem to matter which.”
He explained about Lord Pierre’s cousin PJ. “I don’t see why we should marry into a family that won’t even invite us to their palace,” he concluded, “particularly as the fellow’s going to be a complete burden on his in-laws.”
“We don’t absolutelyknow that,” Vipsania said. A little frown perched between her eyebrows. She turned to Walpurga. “What do we know of PJ?”
“He’s a social creature,” Walpurga said. “Quite popular, I understand—well-dressed, well-connected, of course, good-looking. I could ask Felicia about him—she’s in a better position to know.”
“You’re not taking this seriously,” Martinez protested.
Vipsania turned her frown toward him. “Not yet,” she said. “But the Ngenis are a family who could be useful to us in the matter of Chee and Parkhurst.”
“They’re our patrons. They’re supposed to be useful to us anyway.”
“And in that case we’d have to cut them in on any profits,” Walpurga said. “It might be cheaper to take PJ off their hands.”
“Which of you,” Martinez asked, “plans to marry this wart on the body politic?”
“Not me!” Sempronia declared. “I’m still in school!”
Martinez grinned at her. “Good for you!”
Vipsania’s frown deepened. “There are worse things than marriage to a highly popular, well-connected man, even if hehas run through his funds.”
“Thenyou do it,” Sempronia said. Martinez hid a smile: this was a sentiment that he hadn’t quite dared to express himself.
Vipsania shrugged. “Perhaps I will.”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Walpurga said. “We’ve not yet seen any advantages to the match at all.”
“True,” Vipsania said. “And I’m not about to marry into any family that won’t see us socially.” She turned to Martinez. “Which means, Gareth dear, that you’ll contact Lord Pierre and inform him that we are willing to be introduced to his cousin, but since Lord Pierre is the only member of the Ngeni family we know, he’ll have to be the one doing the introductions.”
“Very well,” Martinez said. Perhaps it was the blue melon on top of the cocktail he’d already had at home, but he was unable to entirely suppress the thought that came next. He turned to Sempronia.
“You’ll have to be the one who gets engaged,” he said. “That’s the way that makes sense.”
Sempronia blinked at him, startled eyes wide. “I won’t marry him! I already said I wouldn’t!”
Martinez grinned at Sempronia over the rim of his cocktail glass. “I didn’t saymarry,” he said. “I said you’ll have to be the one whogets engaged.”
Vipsania narrowed her eyes. “Explain yourself, Gareth,” she said.
“The whole point of getting engaged to PJ is access,” Martinez said. “Access to the Ngenis’ circle. And the best means of prolonging access is an engagement—along engagement.”
Vipsania gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Go on.”
“There’s no reason why you or Walpurga can’t marry after a short engagement, especially if Roland’s here,” Martinez said. “So it’ll have to be Sempronia who gets engaged to PJ, because we’ll be able to insist that she can’t marry till she’s finished school.” He looked at Sempronia. “How many years do you have left, Proney?”
“Two,” Sempronia said suspiciously.
“Surely you can fail a few courses and make it three,” Martinez said. “And after that, some postgraduate work might be necessary to fully round your education. And of course our lawyers can drag out the negotiations for the marriage contract for, well, ages I suppose.”