“Val Con—”

“The Right Noble Lady Kareen yos’Phelium,” announced the housebot from the doorway.

“Good morning, Aunt,” Val Con, the Low Tongue all good cheer. “Will you take breakfast with us?’

“Thank you,” said the Right Noble, “but no.” The bell-tones of the High Tongue were gelid. “And you, my Lord, might best wish to speak with me in the study. What I have to say is scarcely fit for a breakfast-table conversation.”

“I’m a-tremble,” said her nephew. “But I fear you will have a small wait, Aunt, if you must have the study. I am exceedingly hungry and feel I should finish my meal before embarking upon an exhaustive interview.” He picked up his tongs to readdress breakfast.

There was a pause, growing painfully longer. A glance from beneath sheltering lashes showed Nova that Lady Kareen’s face was rigid with anger. Val Con was proceeding with his meal.

“Very well,” said Lady Kareen presently. “if you will have it so.” She moved to the nearest chair and stood, eyes on her nephew’s bent head.

Horrified, Nova saw Val Con glance up, frown and raise his hand to the hovering robot.

“Jeeves, pray hold my aunt’s chair for her.”

“Certainly, Captain.” The ’bot glided forward and slid the chair smoothly from its place.

“Your Ladyship.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before she sat. Jeeves retired to a corner.

Val Con smiled. “Now then—ah, but first: Are you certain you won’t take something, Aunt? Tea? Morning-wine?”

“Nothing, I thank you.” She glared at him. “Must you speak in that manner?”

He blinked. “in what—oh, in the Low Tongue! I do beg pardon, ma’am. I was speaking with my sister just now and it quite slipped my mind that I must use the High Tongue at this present, in deference to company.”

Nova bit her lip.

“Of yesterday’s fiasco,” the old lady said after a moment, “there is nothing to say.