Perilous Waif (Alice Long #1)

He looked up as we approached. “Good morning, Alice. How are you today?”

I bowed, leaning hard on my instincts to make myself do it properly. Some insane bit of my subconscious still wanted to stop at a tiny nod, like some high lady barely acknowledging a pretentious lowlife’s existence. That would get me killed for sure. Fortunately he was still inviting me to present myself as a lady, so I didn’t have to bow all that low. Just enough to acknowledge his power over me.

Thinking of it that way made me kind of feel funny, but it was a lot easier than telling myself he outranked me.

“I’m quite well, my lord. How are you?”

“Well enough, I suppose. Please, join me.”

I sat across the little table from him, carefully going through the little ritual of folding skirts and arranging my legs just so. Then I set the little teak box I carried in the middle of the table.

“Please, accept this gift in thanks for your kind invitation,” I said.

He gave me an amused look, and reached over to pull apart the ribbon that held the box closed. It was dark blue along the edges and a lighter shade in the middle, to indicate respect and openness to negotiation. I carefully controlled my expression as he opened the lid, and inspected the contents. A large compartment filled with a mixture of green and amber powders, and a smaller one with a little scoop and whisk.

“This looks interesting,” he said. “Some sort of tea?”

“It’s an old tradition in the Tanova Sector colonies, my lord. A sort of breakfast tea they call osuno. The tea itself is a variety that was evacuated from Japan before Z Day, grown in controlled habitats by a reclusive order of monks. They harvest and desiccate by hand, then crystallize it to ensure perfect preservation of the flavor.”

“I see. And the amber-colored grains?”

“Crystallized honey blended with various mild spices, my lord. There are thousands of variations in the exact recipe, depending on local tastes.”

“How interesting. Well then, we shall have to try this exotic beverage. Marissa?”

A naga with dark purple hair emerged from behind one of the trees, and glided over to lay out a tea set on the table. At a nod from Akio she set down a kettle full of water and backed away. I poured, adding a carefully measured quantity of tea to his cup and giving it a brisk but precise stir with the whisk. I did the same with my own, feeling a little silly about making such a production out of things.

But that was kind of the point. Japanese cultures always make a big deal out of tea, but after four hundred years of cultural drift the details have changed a lot from one colony to the next. Enacting a polite ritual from some colony he’d never heard of was at once exotic and familiar. It said I could respect traditions without being imprisoned by them, and also that I could fit in anywhere if I chose to.

It didn’t hurt that it was really good tea. I’d bought a box for myself, just so I could make sure of that without opening the gift in advance. I was definitely going to be reverse engineering the stuff when I got back to the ship, so I could fabricate more whenever I ran out.

Akio set his cup down, and smiled at me. “You know, I believe you’ve just demonstrated my correctness in an old argument.”

I lowered my gaze to the tea cups. “Oh? How so, my lord?”

“My official advisors were unanimously convinced that this would be an embarrassing fiasco. My inugami, however, were equally confident that you would pull it off flawlessly. Hence, my contention that a close connection to the palace gossip network is a more reliable resource than any amount of learned reason and third-hand reports.”

I couldn’t completely hide my grin. “I can’t disagree with that, my lord. Who would know more about someone than their servants? Why, if I were running an enormous palace I’d probably train all my staff in information gathering just to capitalize on the opportunity.”

He chuckled. “Indeed. Now please, haven’t I told you to call me Akio? We can save the court performances for the court.”

“Thank you, Akio.”

He was silent for a moment, waiting to see if I’d say anything else. I met his gaze now instead of staring at the table, but I just smiled back at him. I knew better than to take his comment as an invitation to be completely informal.

My stomach gave a loud rumble.

He laughed. I cringed, and hung my head.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Oh, gosh, that’s so embarrassing.”

“No, no, I’m the one who’s kept you busy with silly games instead of feeding you. Although as many enhancements as you have, I’m surprised you don’t have an override for that too.”

“Mom probably thought it would be cute or something. Ugh, it’s your fault anyway. Ever since our spar yesterday my development manager is insisting that it needs to prioritize muscle growth, and the material requirements on that are just insane. I’m going to be eating nonstop for the next month thanks to you.”

“Well, then let me make it up to you. Marissa, we’re ready.”

The naga from before came back with a tray full of dishes, and started to lay out breakfast. It was all very traditional, which meant lots of weird food I’d never tried before, but I was hungry enough to eat anything. There was also enough for four people, so at least it was going to do more than wet my appetite.

We made small talk as we ate, and I tried to strike the right balance. Not stilted and formal, but not too familiar either. It was hard when I still didn’t know exactly what he wanted from me, but I thought I was doing alright. He certainly seemed friendly enough.

After a few minutes Marissa came back to collect empty plates and bowls, and another naga set out another helping. My surprise must have showed.

“My development manager is also rather hungry for building materials,” he explained. “I suspect I have a slower growth schedule than yours, but I’m due to put on another thirty kilograms this year.”

He wasn’t exactly small now. I tried to imagine him with another few cems of height and thirty more kilos of hard muscle. Yum.

Wait, no, I wasn’t supposed to be drooling over the evil crime boss. Bad girl, Alice. Stop that.

“I haven’t quite decided what I’m going to go with,” I told him. “My default template is all tiny and delicate looking, but I’m not too happy with that. I don’t want to go through my whole life looking harmless. So I guess we’re both cursed to eat lots and lots of tasty food for at least a few more years.”

“It’s a terrible burden,” he agreed. “But somehow we shall persevere.”

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