towards the school's play annex, which had been converted into a ballroom for the debut. Not that Wynne knew anyone who could dance. She'd seen video of it, though. "Mom wants me to join my paterline."
She caught his glance her way, which was rueful. She looked away.
"Do you want to?" he asked.
Wynne hugged herself, though the bodice of her gown kept her warm enough that her bare arms weren't too chilled. "Of course."
He gave her a longer, measuring look, eyes dancing as if reading a page.
She sighed and stopped mentally reciting atomic weights long enough to openly think, Not as if I have a choice , then switched to the electron shells of each element, for variety's sake.
Hector coughed and hid his mouth with his hand. He coughed again and turned his attention on the annex ahead of them. He glanced toward the side entrance, pulling a step away from her before he stopped at her side, giving her a pointed look.
Not pointed. Expectant.
He expected her to follow his hints.
Without answering, she headed for the side door, letting him enter the front entrance alone. She wasn't sure why he wanted her to do that, but she was sure it was for her own good.
She just hoped his help wouldn't cost him much.
****
Wynne had farther to walk to her door, so she didn't bother holding back when she reached it. She did slip in quietly, though, and closed it carefully behind her. She doubted the action kept anyone from noticing her entrance, but what could it hurt?
"I don't have a girl," Hector's mild voice echoed down the hallway, evidently answering someone's question. "My friend is grabbing a snack before the festivities."
She recognized the hint, and she pulled out a meal bar to have the day's meal number three. Actually, he was right. She probably did need it.
"Your girl friend, you mean," an adult male insisted, in the smug tone that some used to talk down to others.
She kept quiet as she approached the makeshift kitchen annexed to the main room, munching on a snack bar that tasted odd. She frowned at the label, wondering what 'cinnamon' was and how she'd ended up with it.
"My friend who happens to be a girl," Hector corrected.
Wynne thought the exasperation tingeing his voice was a Nice touch .
He coughed. "Pardon. Frog in my throat."
She suspected she might've been the only one who understood that turn of phrase, but nobody asked for clarification.
"We hit Dyad yesterday ," Hector continued. "Having a 'girl' so soon would be rather tasteless of me."
Wynne caught just what he meant from how his voice curled around the word girl , and her face warmed. And she smiled, a little, at the oblique put-down to whoever was harassing him. Hector Primuman the Fourth wasn't his grandfather, and he wasn't shy about it.
She finished her snack, tossed the wrapper, and exited the kitchen—
And the smile dropped from her face.
Because the man standing with Hector and so casually suggesting she and Hector were lovers was the governor himself: Hector Primuman the Third.
She'd never met the governor directly, just seen him a time or two at get-togethers her Imaguman father had taken her to when young — which was against protocol, now that she thought of it, but it had never occurred to her to notice before now.
It was all too obvious that the governor knew exactly who she was. A slow smile came over his face, and he gestured to the drinks table with the hand bearing a cup of something brown. "Miss Layuman, so nice of you to join us. Help yourself to a drink. The Servumen will be here soon."
Wynne flinched. Layumen were tier three, so she'd not grown up with Servumen taking care of her, but her tier two father had frequently had one or two, whom he used as go-fers. Servumen weren't even a tier — they were the nobodies of the colony, the idiots so dumb that they couldn't even be tier five… and the foreigners who wanted to join the colony or work in it for a while. Despite the lack of a tier, the Servumen actually had the fewest
She caught his glance her way, which was rueful. She looked away.
"Do you want to?" he asked.
Wynne hugged herself, though the bodice of her gown kept her warm enough that her bare arms weren't too chilled. "Of course."
He gave her a longer, measuring look, eyes dancing as if reading a page.
She sighed and stopped mentally reciting atomic weights long enough to openly think, Not as if I have a choice , then switched to the electron shells of each element, for variety's sake.
Hector coughed and hid his mouth with his hand. He coughed again and turned his attention on the annex ahead of them. He glanced toward the side entrance, pulling a step away from her before he stopped at her side, giving her a pointed look.
Not pointed. Expectant.
He expected her to follow his hints.
Without answering, she headed for the side door, letting him enter the front entrance alone. She wasn't sure why he wanted her to do that, but she was sure it was for her own good.
She just hoped his help wouldn't cost him much.
****
Wynne had farther to walk to her door, so she didn't bother holding back when she reached it. She did slip in quietly, though, and closed it carefully behind her. She doubted the action kept anyone from noticing her entrance, but what could it hurt?
"I don't have a girl," Hector's mild voice echoed down the hallway, evidently answering someone's question. "My friend is grabbing a snack before the festivities."
She recognized the hint, and she pulled out a meal bar to have the day's meal number three. Actually, he was right. She probably did need it.
"Your girl friend, you mean," an adult male insisted, in the smug tone that some used to talk down to others.
She kept quiet as she approached the makeshift kitchen annexed to the main room, munching on a snack bar that tasted odd. She frowned at the label, wondering what 'cinnamon' was and how she'd ended up with it.
"My friend who happens to be a girl," Hector corrected.
Wynne thought the exasperation tingeing his voice was a Nice touch .
He coughed. "Pardon. Frog in my throat."
She suspected she might've been the only one who understood that turn of phrase, but nobody asked for clarification.
"We hit Dyad yesterday ," Hector continued. "Having a 'girl' so soon would be rather tasteless of me."
Wynne caught just what he meant from how his voice curled around the word girl , and her face warmed. And she smiled, a little, at the oblique put-down to whoever was harassing him. Hector Primuman the Fourth wasn't his grandfather, and he wasn't shy about it.
She finished her snack, tossed the wrapper, and exited the kitchen—
And the smile dropped from her face.
Because the man standing with Hector and so casually suggesting she and Hector were lovers was the governor himself: Hector Primuman the Third.
She'd never met the governor directly, just seen him a time or two at get-togethers her Imaguman father had taken her to when young — which was against protocol, now that she thought of it, but it had never occurred to her to notice before now.
It was all too obvious that the governor knew exactly who she was. A slow smile came over his face, and he gestured to the drinks table with the hand bearing a cup of something brown. "Miss Layuman, so nice of you to join us. Help yourself to a drink. The Servumen will be here soon."
Wynne flinched. Layumen were tier three, so she'd not grown up with Servumen taking care of her, but her tier two father had frequently had one or two, whom he used as go-fers. Servumen weren't even a tier — they were the nobodies of the colony, the idiots so dumb that they couldn't even be tier five… and the foreigners who wanted to join the colony or work in it for a while. Despite the lack of a tier, the Servumen actually had the fewest
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