"Do you … hurt people?"
"If necessary, but you don't have to worry; I don't even make faces at people who cooperate with me."
Odeon chuckled at that; after a second, Conley joined in, and by that time they were at the head of the stairs, entering the common-room. The young Imperial caught her breath, looking around. "It's beautiful!"
"Yes, it is," Cortin agreed. "I don't really need this kind of luxury—at times I still feel guilty wearing boots on the carpet—but His Majesty says my position is such that I have to make a proper showing. Not that the High King's Inquisitor gets many casual guests; usually the only ones here are family and Enforcement Service friends."
"Uh-oh." Odeon made a quick grab, intercepting an orange streak heading for the guest. "Forgot to warn you about Tangerine," he apologized, stroking his prey's soft fur. To his combined relief and disappointment, Tanj was no longer fixated on him, though he told himself she did still like him best. "She's not called the attack kitten for nothing—she'll go after whoever's closest, just to get attention, though I'm her favorite target. And she likes to land about rump-high, with all claws out."
"Thanks for the rescue, then—I like cats, but that sounds painful."
"It is," Cortin assured her. "Worse now than when we first got her, since she's bigger, but even at six weeks old, she made herself felt." She gestured to the couch in front of the fireplace. "Have a seat. Matthew should be here soon with the coffee."
"Thank you." Conley sat down, Odeon joining her, while Cortin pulled up a nearby chair. "Will the others be okay?"
"Unless they do something stupid," Odeon said. "Like attack someone who's armed when they aren't."
Conley chuckled. "None of our crew is Sandeman—for one of them, it might work."