"Good." Bradford smiled. "On His Majesty's behalf, then, as well as from me: Congratulations, Colonel Cortin." He stood, raising his glass. "Gentles, I give you Her Excellency Colonel Joan Cortin, the High King's Inquisitor."
The others followed suit. Illyanov and Odeon exchanged glances, Odeon obviously trying to look solemn but spoiling the effect with a smile he couldn't hide. Illyanov raised an eyebrow, then nodded, and Odeon said, "To Your Excellency's continued health and happiness." The diners drank the formal toast, then sat back down, and Odeon dropped his attempt to look solemn. "High King's Inquisitor—Joanie, you couldn't've asked for a better place to hunt those plaguers from!"
"No, I don't think I could," Cortin agreed. "It's still hard to believe I'd get tapped for it, though—talent or not, I don't have that much experience." She paused long enough to eat some stuffed shrimp and take a drink of cider, then she went on. "If there'd been a position like this earlier, I'd've expected it to go to someone like Brad or Ivan, with experience."
"I do not know about Brad," Illyanov said with a smile, "but I am not qualified. I am immediately subject to Czar Nicholas, not to High King Mark. Since you express interest, however—I have been informed that I am under consideration for that position on St. Dmitri. I should like to teach you the advanced techniques we did not have time for earlier, but I should also like to return to my wife and children in New Moscow. Despite the climate."
"New Colorado's bad enough in the winter," Cortin agreed. "I'd like to go to your home world some day, on assignment or leave—but I hope it's in summer!"
"It is far more pleasant then," Illyanov said, chuckling. "Should I get the position and require your assistance, I shall try to assure it is in summer. Should you go there at any time, however, I would like you to meet my family. You will like them, I think, especially Elena and the girls, but I must warn you: the boys, especially Pyotr, will beg you for war stories, and they can be most persistent."
"I think I can handle that," Cortin said, amused. "You'll all be welcome at the Lodge, of course." She turned to Bain. "That goes for your brother's family, too, you know."
"Thanks …" Bain said, hesitantly. "But I'm not sure they'd be comfortable in the capital."
"I'm not sure I'll be comfortable there," Cortin said, then turned to Bradford. "Brad, all any of us know about life in New Denver comes from the news and—if we read them, which I sometimes do for laughs—the society columns. What's it really like?"
"I don't want to disappoint you," Bradford said, "but most of the time it's actually quite ordinary. You'll wear dress uniform more often, you'll be expected to attend important Palace functions, and your team will act as bodyguards any time you leave the Compound; otherwise, except for taking orders only from His Majesty—no one else can do more than request—you should find things fairly normal." He grinned. "You'll find out, starting tomorrow … if Your Excellency cares to join Their Highnesses on the return flight."