A week and a half later, Michael’s butler took my coat in the front hall of the family mansion. I smelled evergreen and roast pheasant as I walked through the house, and stepping inside the library was like entering some childhood fantasy of Winter’s Feast. Michael had spared no expense — the room gleamed with two dozen wax candles that illuminated hundreds of cut-crystal snowflakes falling from the ceiling and dangling from the chandelier. Pine boughs covered the mantelpiece and library shelves, and golden ornaments hung from the curtain rods, glimmering brightly against the dark, brocaded velvet draperies. One of Michael’s useless iguanas was stretched out on a curtain rod, its scaly green head regarding the party with disapproval.
“Happy holidays,” Michael said, picking his way through the cluttered room. I tucked my basket under one arm and shook his hand. My cousin was holding a glass of cognac, and the flush on his cheeks indicated that he was well into the spirit of the longest and last evening of the year. Behind him, a sideboard trimmed with evergreen branches and bright holly berries groaned beneath platters of sweets and pastries and the eager hands of eight hungry young boys and girls. Brightly wrapped presents were piled to one side of the hearth.
Jaspin was talking to Elliot and Lorencz by the window. Jaspin wore a well-tailored suit and carried a gold-headed cane, while Lorencz wore a garish men’s suit that fit her like it had been borrowed from a neighbor. Her hair looked freshly dyed for the occasion. Elliot’s suit was better-fitting and more somber, but he smiled fondly at her as she talked. There’s no accounting for taste.
At the bar, Axton and Magister Carel were examining a bottle. Axton looked surprisingly dapper in a long silver-and-grey waistcoat, and Carel wore a sleek red dress instead of her usual black Vigilance uniform. One of our Watch coworkers, Sergeant Jore Connas, was serving punch to the children; I almost didn’t recognize her out of uniform. The man next to her was, I assumed, her husband or her date.
“Just the Far crowd today?” I asked Michael.
“Mostly, yes.”
“I thought your guest list usually ran into the hundreds.”
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been socially acceptable to plan a holiday ball while my cousin was at death’s door. I even had all my mourning clothes pulled out of storage and re-tailored, just in case I needed them.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Quite all right. I look terrible in black. It’s one of the reasons I hate wearing my Vigilance uniform.” A smile flickered over his lips. “You can consider this a welcome back party, if you want.”
“I’m going to push my welcome.” I held out the basket with one hand and took his glass away from him with the other. “Happy Winter’s Feast. You need to open it right now.”
“Why?” He looked apprehensive. “Am I going to regret it?”
“I told you how I feel about regret.”
He gingerly lifted the cover and looked inside. “Really, Tegeus?”
I set his cognac glass down on a side table so my hands would be free in case he decided to throw a punch.
“I thought it might help.”
He set the basket on a chair and lifted out the little black kitten. It mewed. The children looked over at us, their faces lighting up.
“It’s not the same color,” Michael said, holding it close to his chest to stop its complaints. The girls and boys hurried over to surround him, their small hands rising to touch the kitten’s fur. I spoke to him over their heads.
“I’m not trying to replace Misty. I’m just … trying to move us both past her.”
“Not that you feel any regret….”
“I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing it for you. I like fighting with you, but not over the past.”
He gave me an uncertain look, trapped in a circle of children, and let one of the girls take the kitten from him.
“Don’t let that iguana eat it,” I warned her, as the group moved away en masse to play with their new pet. Caro lingered a moment.
“Doctor Axton says you’re going to live,” she announced.
“For now. I’ll drop by the Vigilance school next week to start your lessons.”
“All right.” She nodded with satisfaction and left with the rest.
I looked at Michael. “Well?”
“Iguanas don’t eat meat.”
“Then they’re even more useless than they look.”
He took a deep breath.
“Thank you, Tegeus,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it. We hesitated a moment, then stepped apart, neither of us inclined to initiate a warmer gesture.
“You still don’t drink?” Michael picked up his cognac and drained the glass like he needed it.
“No.”
“I stocked some apple juice at the bar. The childrens’ punch is alcohol-free, too.”
“I recognize Milka and the five we rescued, but —”
“I met the other two little girls while I was working with Captain Lorencz. Kay and Angie. They’re, well, they’re charity cases. Sergeant Connas helped me track them down.”
“Where are their parents?”
“Out of the picture, according to the neighbors. I think Angie has been stealing to support them. Connas plans to pat her down at the end of the party.”
“So you’re going to show them how the wealthy live and then send them back to the tenements?”
“Well — no —”
“Their neighbors will steal any presents you give them.”
“I know.” He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “I wasn’t going to send them back.”
“You aren’t planning to adopt them, are you?”
His expression grew furtive, and I laughed.
“Michael, you’re such pushover. There are better ways to start a family. I hear it has something to do with women, though, so I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”
“I’m not adopting them,” he said defensively. “I’m just paying for them to attend a boarding school.”
“Sure.” I remembered the burned bodies in the greenhouse. “Cheers, cuz.” I walked to the bar as Carel left to speak to Ban Jaspin. Axton reached for the apple juice as I approached.
“Good evening, General Droit.” He filled a glass. “Happy Winter’s Feast.”
“Michael isn’t making you work for him, is he?”
“No.” He pushed the glass across the bar. “I’m dislike making small talk, so fixing drinks gives me an excuse not to mingle.”
I took a sip, examining him.
“I like the waistcoat. It’s the first time you haven’t worn something black.”
“Your cousin gave it to me. I knew it would please him if I wore it tonight.” He refilled his glass of whiskey. I’d hoped to fluster him. Apparently he didn’t fluster that easily.
“The silver thread complements your eyes. Michael isn’t that kind of patron, is he?”
“Nobilis Aronson isn’t attracted to me. He simply has a generous nature and an artist’s eye for color.”
“Yes, I know. My cousin’s a paragon and I’m a son of a bitch.” I leaned on the bar and grinned. “Are you attracted to him?”
“I’m grateful to him.”
I waved that off as uninteresting.
“Are you attracted to me?”
He looked at me with steady gray eyes.
“Yes.”
I blinked, surprised. Lorencz came up and slapped me on the back before I could respond.
“Droit! Congratulate me — Elliot and I are engaged.”
I turned, grabbed her, and gave her a long, hard kiss on the lips. She tasted like tobacco.
“This is your last chance,” I whispered in her ear. “Are you sure you’re willing to give me up?”
She tore herself away and scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Fuck! Knock it off, you asshole,” she snarled. Elliot was laughing at us, so I picked him up and kissed him, too, dislodging his glasses in the process.
“How about you?” I asked. “Want a real man instead of a suit-wearing virago?”
“A what?” Lorencz blustered.
“I’ve made my choice, General Droit,” he said, adjusting his glasses. A plain gold engagement ring glittered on his hand. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Arcady’s been worried sick.”
“Only because I thought you’d croak before I could return that sucker punch,” she elaborated. “Which I’m gonna do right now if you don’t take your hands off my fiance.”
“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Elliot stage-whispered.
“I never do,” I assured him, letting him slip back to my partner’s side.
“Watch it,” Lorencz said, pointing at me, “or we’ll change our minds about letting you be our best man.”
“Lorencz, I’m the best man you’ll ever have.” I leered. She gave up, turning to Ban Jaspin.
“You see why I want a transfer?”
“I don’t know what the Ministry was thinking, putting the two of you together,” Jaspin admitted. The unscarred side of his mouth curled up in a smile. “But it’s good to see you on your feet again, Droit.”
We shook, wrong-handed.
“So you think you’re my boss?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t have gone back to hell for you otherwise. I hate it when people try to poach my staff.”
“We’ll see if you still feel that way in a few months.” My good mood was disturbed by the reminder that Yzyrchye still had a claim on me. Everyone except Axton thought I was free.
“Ladies, gentlemen,” Michael said, breaking in on our conversation. “It’s time for dinner.”
Dinner and dessert stopped all serious discussion for several hours, as by unspoken agreement we let the children dominate the conversation. Then we gathered back in the library for after-dinner drinks and the ritual gift exchange. Michael and Carel had bought Winter’s Feast presents for all of the boys and girls. The rest of us sat back to watch them enjoy themselves.
Michael and I had opened presents in this library, once, while our parents had watched from the seats the two of us sat in now. That had been the good part of Winter’s Feast; the part before the heavy drinking and the loud arguments. Over the years, we’d learned to escape with our new toys and hide elsewhere in the house — anywhere our parents wouldn’t be able to find us.
I glanced at my cousin and saw him looking at me. I raised my glass of juice in a silent toast. He returned it, then turned his attention back to the children.
“Kittens, children, and family.” Axton sat next to me, holding a fresh glass of whiskey. “This is a surprisingly domestic setting for you, General Droit.”
“Does domesticity make me more attractive?” I asked in a light tone. He didn’t seem to hear, watching as one of the boys whooped at the sight of his gift.
“Droit’s just going soft, now that Might’s out of his life,” Lorencz scoffed, her arm around Elliot’s waist.
“Sit over here and I’ll show you I’m not soft.” I patted my lap and tried not to think about the balesword tucked under my bed. Lorencz rolled her eyes and Elliot raised an eyebrow, giving me a look. I smirked back. Unlike my idiot partner, Elliot had too many brains to think I was any kind of competition.
“Speaking of Might,” Michael said, looking up, “Captain Lorencz and I have a present for you, Tegeus.” He lifted a long package from the side of the fireplace. I took it, recognizing the size and shape with a rush of pleasure. I hadn’t expected any gift at all, and this was something I needed. “Use it in good health.”
I let the fabric fall away and held the new sword flat on my palms. It was simple in line but perfectly edged and weighted; the product of a master craftsman. Michael’s impeccable eye at work again. I slid my hand to the hilt and then paused as I registered the pommel’s shape.
“A hound, Michael?” I gave him a reproachful look.
“A retriever,” Lorencz countered. My cousin nodded. I considered them both a moment, then slid my hand over the retriever and smiled. The clock on the mantel began to chime.
“Happy new year,” I said, as everyone looked up from their gifts and conversations.
Out in the city, the palace bells started to toll, and the cathedral bells picked up the clarion, exorcising the old and welcoming the new. Everyone in the room began to move, smiling and shaking hands and embracing. I laid the sword on the floor and realized that Axton was holding out his hand.
“Happy new year, General,” he said gravely. “Best wishes for your new beginnings.”
“Best wishes for your new beginnings.” I clasped his hand and tugged him closer, lowering my voice. “Do you want to come over to my house for a new beginning tonight?”
“I’m not feeling that safe yet,” he said, gravely.
“Another day then,” I said, grinning. He pulled his hand away as others turned to us for a new year’s greeting. I let him go.
I was a retriever. I’d be back.