Chương 52: Gifts

New Toledo, Vidako Imperium Stellarum December 23, 2847 Final grades for the first term posted that evening. After returning from the range—where Cassie had, to Arc's utter lack of surprise, cajoled Lieutenant Estrada into letting her take a brief turn in the cockpit—they'd split up to have a shower and change before dinner with the Montalban family. Iceni notified Arc while he was actually in the shower, scrubbing the short hair which now covered his scalp.

Three months after the surgery, it had grown out to nearly four centimeters, at a guess, and he was actually in need of a bit of a trim around the sides and the back of his neck.

"Can you show me a summary?" Arc asked.

"Along with the merits earned, and my new total?" Then, he leaned back into the spray from the shower head to let it rinse the shampoo off. Of course, Iceni said. A moment later, lines of faintly glowing blue text appeared in Arc's vision, set against the steam which filled the shower.

Arcturus Sandhurst Semester 1 2847 - 2848 Astronautics A- (92) 40 Merits Imperial Naval History A (100) 50 Merits Introductory Pilot Evaluation A- (93) 40 Merits War and Its Theorists A (98) 45 Merits Xenobiology 101 B+ (89) 35 Merits Total Merits Earned S1 210 Total Cumulative Merits 657 Arc let out a sigh, and with it tension in his shoulders and neck that he hadn't even realized had been there until just that moment. Two-hundred and ten merits earned, out of a possible two-hundred and fifty, was very, very good.

Especially when he was being compared to cadets who had been genetically engineered to absorb information and learn more quickly than anyone who, like him, was unmodified. Combined with a few merits earned over the course of the semester by answering questions in his history courses—which he was satisfied to see were his highest grades—that put him halfway to earning his first genetic retrovirus treatment. He couldn't help but actually laugh out loud, and he felt almost giddy with excitement.

Arc ran his hands through his hair one more time, to make sure all the soap was gone, then turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. He scrubbed himself dry as quickly as he could, then slipped into a pair of slippers and a robe. Both were very fuzzy, and very comfortable, and not the sort of things he would ever have imagined buying for himself, but the duke—or, more likely, his wife—had made certain the guest rooms were well equipped.

Aware that there was a stupid grin on his face, and yet unable to care much about it, Arc opened the door to his rooms, crossed the hall, and knocked on Cassie's door. He had to tell someone. Am I not someone? Iceni asked. You knew before I did, Arc pointed out. He bounced from one foot to the other, raised his hand to knock again, and hesitated. He didn't want to annoy her… The door swung open.

"Sorry, I was in the shower," Cassie said, and all thought of grades fled Arc's mind completely. Like him, she'd thrown on a bathrobe, but she was barefoot, and the hem of the white fabric ended above her knee. She must have pulled the robe on and tied it hastily, because the two sides of the robe crossed loosely, exposing her collarbone and the upper slopes of her chest, flushed red from the heat of the shower. Arc swallowed and, with an effort, dragged his eyes back up to her face.

"Grades posted!" she exclaimed, with an eager grin.

"How did you do?"

"Everything but Xenobiology was an A," he told her, after giving himself a shake to get his mind moving again.

"And that was a B+. Two-hundred and ten merits."

"Very nice!" Her eyes twinkled.

"Go ahead, ask me."

"All A's," he guessed. Cassie, after all, had Enhanced NMDA receptors.

"A minus in Xenobiology," she admitted.

"Not either of our best subjects, I guess. But! We both did really well, and you're well on your way to getting some gene-editing done. Have you decided what you want yet?"

"I have a few thoughts," Arc admitted.

"But there's no way I can get anything done before the duel, so I've kind of put it out of my mind."

"That's true." Cassie's smile slipped away.

"That's another advantage he's got over you." She reached out and grabbed his hand, and Arc was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, how little each of them was wearing, and that just behind her through an open door waited a bedroom. He stepped forward, half expecting Jessica to explode out of some kind of fake panelling in the hallway wall, and reached out to put his hands on her hips. The soft, cotton terry cloth felt just the same as the robe that he was wearing.

"Is Jessica going to interrupt us again?" he asked, lowering his voice so that it wouldn't echo down the hall.

"I told her not to," Cassie said. They leaned closer to each other, and when their lips touched, Arc closed his eyes. He could smell the soap she'd used, and when she pressed up against him, could feel how warm her body still was from the hot water she'd been standing under. The click of heels from the end of the highway broke them apart. Arc turned, hands suddenly and frustratingly empty, to face Duchess Nicté Lucia Montalban as she approached, already dressed for dinner.

"I'm told you both spent most of your day with our pilots," the duchess said. Her lips curved in a subtle smile, and Arc was completely certain that she knew exactly what she'd interrupted.

"I hope that it was time well spent, but I wanted to make certain that neither of you were planning anything like that for the next two days. We'll be far too busy. Your Imperial Highness, we'd like to invite you to accompany us to a few of our holiday functions… but I'll tell you more about that at dinner. I'll leave the two of you to get dressed, and I'll see you downstairs." The duchess turned and walked away, and Cassie buried her face in Arc's shoulder.

"Shoot me," she grumbled. 𝝮"—and, of course, it doesn't help that the single most significant economic driver on the planet was placed so far from the capital," Alvarez Velasco Montalban complained over dinner that evening. Arc did his best to keep his mouth shut, and the fact that his plate was occupied by a very tender cut of native leatherback went a long way toward helping him accomplish his goal.

The meat tasted so much better than vat-grown beef that he didn't think he'd ever get enough, and the marbled veins of fat practically melted on his tongue. The duke's chef had rubbed the steaks in salt, pepper—and Arc was fairly certain there was a bit of garlic and onion powder in the mix, as well—before searing them.

"You're really enjoying that," Cassie teased, from her seat on his right side.

"There's nothing like this on Zurah V," Arc said, shaking his head.

"Just about every bit of cultivated space we have is for mulberry trees, or crops that can feed a lot of people, like rice. Keeping herds of herbivores for meat isn't something we have room for."

"Strictly speaking, we don't either," Duke Alvarez said. Arc wondered whether he was aware of just how nearly Cassie had changed the subject. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"You know we have very little cleared land," the older man continued.

"But we do have a vibrant hunting industry, particularly with tourists who come from off world. Many of them wish to keep what they kill, of course, but there's always enough spare meat for purchase, so long as you're willing to pay a premium. Which, of course, I am."

"Tomorrow will be fish and shellfish," the duchess added.

"Traditional, for la Nochebuena —Christmas Eve. There would be lamb, if we had the room on this planet. Anyway, as I mentioned earlier, Princess, I'd like to invite you to join us when we make our public appearance for the evening on the south balcony. You can escort her, of course, Arcturus, but once we're actually on the balcony you should stand back."

"You've been so kind to host us here," Cassie said.

"I think making an appearance with your family is the least I can do, Duchess."

"It's more than your father has done," Alvarez grumbled.

"Here we go again," Marcus Ajewọle remarked, from the other end of the table. Arc looked down the rows of plates, glasses, and cutlery to see that Esteban had reached a hand out and placed it on his husband's forearm. It was something of the motion that Arc had seen people use to calm a nervous horse, in any number of holo-dramas.

"I am simply pointing out," Duke Alvarez said, "that it does not seem that our requests for imperial aid are often taken seriously. I mean no offense to you, Princess Cascada; I am aware that such decisions are not thrust upon your shoulders. Nevertheless –""You do get quite a bit from the imperial family, though," Arc spoke up. He could tell just how uncomfortable the duke's complaints made Cassie, especially while she was trapped here at the dinner table.

And, he knew, she wouldn't have been there at all if it wasn't for him. She would have returned to Terra to spend her holiday with her family.

"Excuse me?" Duke Alvarez said.

"You get an entire company of front line mechs," Arc pointed out.

"Along with all of the techs to maintain them, pilots, munitions, transports like the Sakers and grav-trucks, and even the Honorius in orbit." Alvarez drummed his fingers against the table.

"Those are imperial trainees," he pointed out.

"They are not under my command."

"Not normally, no," Arc said.

"But in a crisis—like a Singularity attack, or a pirate raid, or the Swarm that's hit the LeShaii worlds—you invoke in loco imperatoris and take the entire academy under your command to defend the world. You normally have a single squad of four mechs. The emperor has stationed twelve times that number here, at no cost to you, to hold your planet in the event of an actual emergency. I'd say that's quite a bit of support." Alvarez scoffed.

"Such a thing has not happened in the entire course of the academy's existence," he said, but to Arc it had the sound of an excuse.

"The space elevator—""Is another thing that benefits your planet that you got free of charge," Arc broke in, before he could think better of it. Only after he'd started talking did he realize that he'd interrupted a duke in the man's own house. The thought was terrifying, and it made him hesitate, but then he felt Cassie's hand reach under the table to rest on his leg.

"I know it isn't where you wanted it placed, but Vidako is better off for having an elevator at all, compared to not having one," Arc said. He realized the entire table was silently watching him.

"I'm certain there's a lot I don't understand, but it seems to me like the Imperial Family has actually done quite a lot for this world—even if what they've done isn't exactly what you wish had happened."

"He's got you there, Al," Marcus said, from his place at the far end of the table. Esteban tried to shush his husband, but it didn't seem to do much good.

"What? I can say it 'till I'm blue in the face and he won't listen, but maybe he'll take it coming from the kid." The duke looked, Arc thought, as if he was going to have an aneurism right then and there. His fists were clenched, his face red, his jaw set. Even the man's children were looking down at their plates, silent and still, as if afraid to be caught in the line of fire.

"That is because –" Alvarez paused when his wife placed her hand on his.

"How about this," Cassie said, before the duke could get going again.

"I can't get you a second space elevator. But how would you feel about a travelling exhibition? I'm absolutely certain that between my mother and I we can talk a few museums on Terra into sending some very nice pieces on tour." The duke opened his mouth, hesitated as if he needed a moment to gather his thoughts, and then finally spoke.

"I have always wanted to show my people El Greco," he said, finally. Cassie had him, and Arc could tell that she knew it. She leaned across the table.

"Picasso," she said.

"Dali. Benéitez's portrait of the first emperor."

"... I would be very grateful if this could be arranged," Duke Montalban admitted, grudgingly.

"And the price?"

"Why would there be a price for friends?" Cassie asked.

"We're guests in your house. Friends accept each other's gifts in the spirit with which they were offered, don't they?"

"What she means, husband," Duchess Nicté said, in a stage whisper, "is that you let the damned space elevator thing go." Looking around the table and finding no sympathy, Alvarez Velasco Montalban finally admitted defeat.

"Very well, Your Imperial Highness," he said.

"I would be very happy for New Toledo to host such an exhibition. Thank you." 𝝮 Things got better after that, and Arc could almost forget that he was a guest. For all that the duke himself was somewhat prickly, his family made Arc and Cassie feel welcome. On Christmas Eve, after a positive feast of both indigenous and transplanted Terran seafood, to which all the preeminent members of the city had been invited, Arc did escort Cassie out to the balcony.

There, he faded back against the wall of the palace with Marcus, who was, like him, somewhat extraneous. For half an hour, he watched Cassie and the duke's family wave to the crowd below. Jessica had conveyed, during a brief meeting in Cassie's room before dinner, that she would be on the roof with half a dozen drones in the air, coordinating with not only Duke Montalban's guard, but the city police, as well.

Arc didn't catch so much as a glimpse of her, but he felt better for knowing that she was nearby, especially with Cassie so exposed. The crowd, on the other hand, not only seemed completely unconcerned, but evidently adored having a princess imperial on-world for the holidays. Arc counted dozens of hand-drawn signs, children hefted onto the shoulders of their fathers, and a general enthusiasm bordering on hysteria which, Marcus Ajewọle quietly confirmed, was not at all usual.

"I've been married to Esteban nearly fifteen years now," he said, arms crossed, leaning back against the wall at Arc's side.

"I have never seen it like this. They're here for one person, and it isn't my brother-in-law." Arc felt, in that moment, doubly an outsider. Not only was he not a member of the imperial aristocracy, but there was also the familiar awkwardness, one which he'd dealt with for his entire life, of being present for religious observances which clearly affected the people around him—while he felt nothing.

There was a midnight service at the cathedral at the center of the city, where Arc did his best to tune the priest's sermon out. He'd felt the same way when he went to the Taaran Buddhist Temple back home, with Teo or Rashmi. He could appreciate the songs, and the buildings were quite beautiful. But at last, he simply did not fit in. He was relieved when the service was finally over, and they could escape back to their rooms at the Palacio de las Orquídeas, finally out of sight of the crowds.

While the Montalban family went about the business of settling their children in bed, Arc and Cassie changed into light linen pajamas and then met in her room. Arc brought a small wrapped package with him, containing the statue he'd bought in The Valley during his day out with Pika. Though he had felt very certain about his choice of gift when he'd chosen it, now that the moment was upon him he couldn't help but be afraid that Cassie wouldn't like it.

"Come sit next to me," she said, and drew him by one hand over to the bed, where he found a place on the mattress.

"I know it isn't your holiday, but I got you something anyway, because I wanted to." Cassie leaned over and reached with one hand to take a wrapped package off the nightstand. When Arc accepted it, he found that it was heavier than he'd expected, and didn't feel like a box. In fact—it felt like a book.

"I don't really know how to do this," he admitted.

"But I got this for you."

"Thank you," Cassie said.

"We can open them together." Arc nodded, and they each began to tear at wrapping paper. As he'd guessed, his present was a book—Admiral Nakagami's memoir of the Singularity War.

"Look inside," Cassie told him, with a grin. When Ark opened the cover, he saw that the first page contained a short message, written in pen. Cadet Sandhurst – Cassie tells me that you're not only an intelligent and talented young man, but that you've become very important to her, as well. We always need more good officers, but good friends are even more important. When she inevitably drags you back to Terra, I want to hear your thoughts on the campaign.

'Uncle' Jack Nakagami"... signed by the admiral?" Arc blinked, and suddenly felt like he hadn't put nearly enough effort into what he'd chosen, for her.

"I can't—I mean, I don't…"

"Just enjoy it," Cassie said.

"I took a flip through. He wrote you a few notes, as well. But I'll leave it for you to find those." She lifted the box revealed from beneath Arc's own wrapping job, then pried the top off with her fingers.

"Oh!"

"It's Sitātapatrā," Arc explained.

"She's a bodhisattva. I thought that you could put her in the cockpit of your mech, and then there'd be something from me riding along with you."

"It's beautiful," Cassie said.

"Thank you. I love it." Then, she got up on her knees, leaned over, and kissed him. For the first time, there behind the locked door of her room, there was no one to interrupt them. In between kisses, they shoved their presents off the bed onto the nightstand, then kicked the shredded wrapping paper onto the floor. When Cassie lay back, with her head on the pillow and her eyes wide as she looked up at him, Arc thought that she was the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.