someone asked. Margiu looked up to find herself face to face with a man in a float-chair.
"No, sir—I was honoring the dead," she said.
His brows rose, crinkling the skin around the scars on his bald scalp. "You knew about this place?"
"No, sir . . . but it's obvious."
"Hmm. May I have the honor of your name?"
"Ensign Pardalt," she said. "From Xavier."
"Ah. Xavier." He looked her over carefully. "And you were at the Academy when—"
"No, sir. I was home . . . on Xavier, I mean." She knew already that to Fleet personnel, Fleet was home, and the planet of origin was just that—the planet of origin.
"And you survived the Benignity—your family as well?"
"Most of them."
"You're welcome here anytime, Ensign. You've earned it."
But she hadn't earned anything. Not yet. The way she saw it, everything she had, Masiu had earned. Still, she was not going to contradict someone like this, a combat veteran.
"Thank you," she said instead. And then, carefully, hoping she'd read the signals right, "May I offer you a drink?"
She saw a reaction, but she wasn't sure what. "As it is your first time in my establishment, I hope you will honor me by accepting one."
She dipped her head. "I would be honored." Then, as he waited, she realized he wanted her to name it. She wasn't used to that, but she glanced at the menu display and chose a dark ale spiced with ginger.
When the mug arrived, heavily frosted, it came with a bowl of raw vegetable sticks on shaved ice.
"If you like spiced ales, I thought you might like these," the man said. Margiu nibbled one; it had a refreshing bite. He sipped his own drink, watching her over the rim. She found it disconcerting.
"We had Lieutenant Suiza in here when she was on a course," he said finally.
That name she knew, of course. Suiza had been added to her family's prayers, and she had heard a lot about Suiza in the Academy and after. "I've never met her," Margiu said. "But we owe her a lot."
"You remind me of her," the man said. "She's quiet too."
"She's a real hero," Margiu said. "I'm just a very green ensign."
"You might surprise yourself," the man said.
She did fantasize about that, sometimes, but she knew it was ridiculous. She could be serious, careful, diligent, prudent—and none of those were heroic virtues, as she understood heroism.
Zenebra; Evening Sports
with Angh Dior ,
Chauncy Network
"Lady Cecelia de Marktos, who returned to competition several years ago on one of the D'Amerosia string, has qualified for the Senior Horse Trials at Wherrin this season on a horse bred at her own stables, Seniority. With the veteran rider/owner up, Seniority won the Challenge Event for rising novices, then the Stavenge. The pair are expected to threaten the reigning champion, Liam Ardahi and the experienced champion Plantagenet, competing under the colors of Orregiemos Combine . . ."
Viewers saw Lady Cecelia's pleasant, bony, somewhat horselike face, beneath rumpled red-gold curls . . . then a shot of her exercising Seniority over fences, the horse's gleaming red coat only a shade darker than her hair, then a shot of them over the last fence of the Stavenge. The video shifted to Liam Ardahi guiding Plantagenet over the Wherrin Trials' B Course big drop-bridge combination the year before, freezing on the instant before landing, while the commentator recited their previous record.
Cecelia grimaced at the display. Like any expert rider, she could find flaws in everything she did, and would have much preferred to have the vid show her over the seventeenth fence—where she and Seniority had made neat work of a difficult combination—than that last fence, where Seniority had jumped flat, and her own hand position showed why. She'd lost concentration for a crucial few seconds.
Why had she been thinking about Pedar Orregiemos and the Rejuvenants, and not Fence
"No, sir—I was honoring the dead," she said.
His brows rose, crinkling the skin around the scars on his bald scalp. "You knew about this place?"
"No, sir . . . but it's obvious."
"Hmm. May I have the honor of your name?"
"Ensign Pardalt," she said. "From Xavier."
"Ah. Xavier." He looked her over carefully. "And you were at the Academy when—"
"No, sir. I was home . . . on Xavier, I mean." She knew already that to Fleet personnel, Fleet was home, and the planet of origin was just that—the planet of origin.
"And you survived the Benignity—your family as well?"
"Most of them."
"You're welcome here anytime, Ensign. You've earned it."
But she hadn't earned anything. Not yet. The way she saw it, everything she had, Masiu had earned. Still, she was not going to contradict someone like this, a combat veteran.
"Thank you," she said instead. And then, carefully, hoping she'd read the signals right, "May I offer you a drink?"
She saw a reaction, but she wasn't sure what. "As it is your first time in my establishment, I hope you will honor me by accepting one."
She dipped her head. "I would be honored." Then, as he waited, she realized he wanted her to name it. She wasn't used to that, but she glanced at the menu display and chose a dark ale spiced with ginger.
When the mug arrived, heavily frosted, it came with a bowl of raw vegetable sticks on shaved ice.
"If you like spiced ales, I thought you might like these," the man said. Margiu nibbled one; it had a refreshing bite. He sipped his own drink, watching her over the rim. She found it disconcerting.
"We had Lieutenant Suiza in here when she was on a course," he said finally.
That name she knew, of course. Suiza had been added to her family's prayers, and she had heard a lot about Suiza in the Academy and after. "I've never met her," Margiu said. "But we owe her a lot."
"You remind me of her," the man said. "She's quiet too."
"She's a real hero," Margiu said. "I'm just a very green ensign."
"You might surprise yourself," the man said.
She did fantasize about that, sometimes, but she knew it was ridiculous. She could be serious, careful, diligent, prudent—and none of those were heroic virtues, as she understood heroism.
Zenebra; Evening Sports
with Angh Dior ,
Chauncy Network
"Lady Cecelia de Marktos, who returned to competition several years ago on one of the D'Amerosia string, has qualified for the Senior Horse Trials at Wherrin this season on a horse bred at her own stables, Seniority. With the veteran rider/owner up, Seniority won the Challenge Event for rising novices, then the Stavenge. The pair are expected to threaten the reigning champion, Liam Ardahi and the experienced champion Plantagenet, competing under the colors of Orregiemos Combine . . ."
Viewers saw Lady Cecelia's pleasant, bony, somewhat horselike face, beneath rumpled red-gold curls . . . then a shot of her exercising Seniority over fences, the horse's gleaming red coat only a shade darker than her hair, then a shot of them over the last fence of the Stavenge. The video shifted to Liam Ardahi guiding Plantagenet over the Wherrin Trials' B Course big drop-bridge combination the year before, freezing on the instant before landing, while the commentator recited their previous record.
Cecelia grimaced at the display. Like any expert rider, she could find flaws in everything she did, and would have much preferred to have the vid show her over the seventeenth fence—where she and Seniority had made neat work of a difficult combination—than that last fence, where Seniority had jumped flat, and her own hand position showed why. She'd lost concentration for a crucial few seconds.
Why had she been thinking about Pedar Orregiemos and the Rejuvenants, and not Fence
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