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“Did I shock you? Sorry. Just consider it a function of my infamous eccentricity.”
    Kreti Twapar’s stare twisted into a grimace. “Your eccentricity, Lord Prince Sarojin, is sometimes inappropriate.”
    Jaya raised his eyebrows in amusement, but the Vadin Adivaram misread him. “Forgive our irascible old Lord, mahesa. He’s becoming cranky with his years.” He shot his confederate a withering glance.
    â€œYes, Nathu Rai,” mumbled Twapar, with about as much contrition as Jaya felt for being eccentric. “Please, don’t take offense. I forgot myself.”
    â€œNo offense taken,” said Jaya blandly. “You see? My eccentricity can also be a blessing. I’ve forgotten you, too.”
    For a moment Kreti Twapar’s face drained of all color—lacking even its natural yellowish tinge. Jaya’s pleasant laughter seemed to restore it somewhat, and he laughed, as well.
    â€œWhy haven’t you reported this to the Inner Circle? You are members, after all.”
    â€œWe ... didn’t want to muddy the waters with mention of this WoCoa matter. If you’ve read the petitions, you’ve no doubt realized how complex this situation has already become.”
    â€œVery complex.” You have no idea.
    â€œSo,” said Bel Adivaram finally, “you would advise us to say nothing of this before the Vrinda Varma? Or should we register a complaint?”
    â€œI wouldn’t presume to advise you,” returned Jaya. “But I do see the point of not lodging a formal report. If I were ‘approached’ by anyone, I probably wouldn’t be inclined to complain to the Vrinda Varma right away. Silence can give instruction even to the wise.” He’d heard his father say that often enough. He could only assume he’d gotten it from Jivinta Mina.
    The two old ones nodded and hummed and then excused themselves, leaving Jaya alone in the Court Salon. He wasn’t alone long—a grinning Aridas joined him, chuckling as he collected the glasses and cups from the room.
    â€œAri, you’ll burst if you don’t share that grin with me. What did my two ‘old uncles’ do to amuse you?”
    â€œâ€™Ay! Silence can give instruction even to the wise, he says!’” The imitation of Kreti Twapar’s gritty, wheezy voice was eerily accurate. “’How dare that insolent young whelp sound so damn sage? Nathu Rai he may be, Sarojin he may be, but he’s got a head full of air and ego!’”
    Jaya laughed. “Air? Something as benign as that? I’m amazed. I would’ve expected they thought it was full of something else.”
    Ari shook his head. “Someday, Jaya Rai, you should land upon those two old scoffers with talons. You tolerate them so well, they’re getting bold and toothy.”
    â€œWhy should I do that? I don’t care how toothy they get.”
    â€œBut I do,” chided Ari. “Their das know what disrespect they feel for you, mahesa. Heli and I have to put up with their foolish mockery, you know. It’s not easy.”
    â€œAh, and of course you defend me loyally.”
    â€œOf course,” Ari assured him. “It’s our duty and privilege. But you could help by quashing them occasionally.” His reproachful expression twisted into a leer. “It’d scare them to eternity, mahesa.”
    â€œAnd you’d like to be there to see it, of course.”
    The leer was still hanging in the air when Aridas was halfway back to the kitchen with his tray.
    oOo

    The Rani Melantha Sarojin was curious about her son’s visitors. She made an abortive attempt to pump Helidasa for information, but got absolutely nowhere with the woman. She should have known better than to waste her time trying, she realized, pulling off her gloves in the front hall. Her late husband’s das were fiercely loyal to his son and imagined that loyalty extended to keeping