Genevieve came to herself with a start at the sound of the first dinner bell, reverberating in the great hall below. She laid the book on the bed beside her and sat up, the thoughts and images of the book evoking and blending with stories her mother had told. Stephanie’s story was not unfamiliar, though her mother had used different words to tell it no less enigmatically than Stephanie herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Delia, coming with an armful of newly laundered petticoats. “Come, Jenny,” she said in an admonitory tone. “No time for daydreams. It’s time you were dressed for dinner.”
And when Genevieve went down to dinner, Delia neatened the bed, putting the book away on the shelf, where it stayed for some time, forgotten.
Genevieve made appointments with the first and second dressmakers on the list, saving the third for later. From the first, a colorless little woman with a pinched mouth that spat pins and wiry fingers that extruded tape measures, she ordered two gowns, simple ones of classic cut and exemplary fabric. The whole transaction took less than an hour, once the measurements were taken.
Karom Veswees, a sinewy and pliant male with beautiful bones and hands, was a different breed of lizard. “I’d like to do you all in beads,” he said, observing her from several angles, including crouching on the floor to look up at her. “Or maybe feathers! What a marvelous face. You’re quite divine, Lady Genevieve.”
She was more amused than annoyed. “Sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair. “Do not flitter about. This is serious business.”
Simpering only slightly, he sat in the chair, hands folded, being the good child. Despite herself, she smiled.
“You see,” he crowed, “what a face!”
Genevieve summoned her most businesslike voice, “I am told you dress the Lady Charmante. She was wearing something filmy the other evening, red, with lines of amber and gold in it?”
The simpering look vanished and was replaced with a grimness about the lips.
“Silk batik, from the aboriginal commune on Strayne V, off-planet needless to say, obtained by the Prince for his ‘consort.’ I’m sorry, Your Ladyship, but if you want something like that, you’re out of luck. Unless your father is far wealthier and more dishonest than he is reputed to be.”
She frowned at him, then rang for a footman and ordered tea before coming to sit beside him. “You’ll stay to tea, won’t you, Mr. Veswees? I think you have knowledge I need, and I will buy many dresses from you if you will tell it to me.”
He cocked his head. “You’re just in from the country, aren’t you? You’re not up on things.”
“Completely at sea.” She smiled, deciding suddenly to allow this most improper person into her confidence. “I don’t understand this off-planet business. I know our ancestors, in their wisdom, decided that a non-industrialized life which made small demands on power and raw materials would be more sustainable over the ages. I know the Lord Paramount and his counselors, in their wisdom, have decided that we must make what we need, except for things like medical personnel and a few other essentials. Until a moment ago, I did not know that the list of such things included luxuries like imported silk.”
“Well, that particular import wouldn’t be publicized, would it?” he said, giving her a searching look.
“There’s something that’s been bothering me for a number of years, Mr. Veswees …”
“Karom. Call me Karom. Everyone does.”
“All the more reason I should call you Mr. Veswees.” She smiled sweetly. “We learned in school that Haven is what might be called a poor planet, partly in fact, partly by choice. We learned in school that interstellar transport is hideously expensive. We learned in school that the Lord Paramount has a list of things we must obtain from elsewhere—” She interrupted this catalogue when the footman entered. He bore a tea service that must have been poised nearby, ready if she should ask.
Veswees nodded, looking up with a smile at the footman who placed the tea service on the table between them. “Everything you say you have been taught about Haven is quite true,” he said.