“And before Cantra yos’Phelium and Tor An yos’Galan landed the colony ship on this world, no one of Korval had done that, either,” Val Con said. Suddenly, his eyes were sharp; his voice ice-edged.

“Your argument, Lady, falls short.”

The Right Noble pulled herself up. Pat Rin gasped. Shan bit his tongue.

“As the eldest of Line yos’Phelium,” Lady Kareen stated formally, “I forbid you to race—this evening, tomorrow, or at any time in the future. Do I make myself plain, sir?"

A pause, very brief. Then, in the highest possible dialect; that used to address strangers or those barely acknowledged as kin: “You long ago declined the right to so command.” And added, in a voice so cold Shan barely recognized it as Val Con’s, “Madam, I repeat: Your argument falls short. You are of the Line by name and blood, but never by authority.”

Incredibly, she opened her mouth to speak further—or perhaps she only gasped with shock. Whatever she intended, it was forestalled as Pat Rin stepped forward, sweeping a bow just this side of too deep toward them both.

“indeed,” he murmured quickly, “we are grateful for this valuable instruction.” He backed gracefully to his mother’s side; placed her hand upon his arm.

“A good evening to you both, kinsmen. My kindest regards to your sisters.”

Gently, he turned the Right Noble and guided her through the scattering onlookers.

Shan looked at his younger brother, standing stiff and hard-faced in his absurd cloak.

“Are you Balanced now, Val Con?” he asked softly.

Some of the stiffness fled and he turned, mouth wry.

“I think so,” he murmured; and added, “yes.”

* * *

THE STANDS WERE packed and Nova stretched her legs carefully.