Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [121]
Ekaterin was waiting in the hall. He put his finger to his lips and waited a moment. The door stayed closed, but the lock did not click again. Miles motioned Ekaterin to follow, and tiptoed away to the living room.
"Whew," said Miles. "I think that's the toughest audience I've ever played to."
"What happened?" demanded Ekaterin anxiously. "Is he coming out?"
"Not sure yet. I gave him a couple of new things to think about. He didn't seem as panicked. And it's going to get really boring in there after a bit. Let's give him some time and see."
Miles was just finishing his groats and coffee when Nikki cautiously poked his head around the kitchen door. He lingered in the doorway, kicking his heel against the frame. Ekaterin, seated across from Miles, put her hand to her lips and waited.
"Where're my shoes?" asked Nikki after a moment.
"Under the table," said Ekaterin, maintaining, with obvious effort, a perfectly neutral tone. Nikki crawled under to retrieve them, and sat cross-legged on the floor by the door to put them on.
When he stood up again, Ekaterin said carefully, "Do you want anyone to go with you?"
"Naw." His gaze crossed Miles's just briefly, then he slouched into the living room to collect his school bag and let himself out the front door.
Ekaterin, turning back from her arrested half-rise from her chair, sank down limply. "My word. I wonder if I ought to call the school to make sure he arrives."
Miles thought it over. "Yes. But don't let Nikki know you checked."
"Right." She swirled the coffee around in the bottom of her cup, and added hesitantly, "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Get him out of there. If it had been Tien . . . they were both stubborn. Tien would get so frustrated with Nikki sometimes, not without cause. He would have threatened to take the door down and drag Nikki to school; I would have run around in circles placating, frantically afraid things would get out of hand. Though they never quite seemed to. I don't know if that was because of me, or . . . Tien would always be a little ashamed later, not that he would ever apologize, but he would buy . . . well, it doesn't matter now."
Miles made a crosshatch pattern in the bottom of his dish with his spoon, hoping his desire for her approval was not too embarrassingly obvious. "Physical solutions have never come easily to me. I just . . . played with his mind, eased him out. I try never to take away somebody's face when I'm negotiating."
"Not even a child's?" Her lips quirked, and her brows flicked up in an expression he wasn't sure how to interpret. "A rare approach."
"So, maybe my tactics had the novelty of surprise. I admit, I did think of ordering my ImpSec minions into the breach, but it would have looked like a very silly order. Nikki's dignity wasn't the only one on the line."
"Well . . . thank you for being so patient. One doesn't normally expect busy and important men to take the time for kids."
Her voice was warm; she was pleased. Oh, good. He babbled in relief, "Well, I do. Expect it, that is. My Da always did, you see—take time for me. Later, when I learned not everyone's Da did the same, I just assumed it was only a trait of the most busy and most important men."
"Hm." She looked down at her hands, resting on either side of her cup, and smiled crookedly.
Professor Vorthys lumbered in, dressed for the day in his comfortable rumpled suit, scarcely more form-fitting than his pajamas. It was tailor-made garb, appropriate to his status as an Imperial Voice, but he must, Miles reflected, have driven his tailor to despair before coaxing just the fit he wanted, With lots of room in the pockets, as he'd once explained to Miles while the Professora rolled her eyes heavenward. Vorthys was stuffing data disks into these capacious compartments. "Are you ready, Miles? ImpSec just called to say they'll have an aircar and driver waiting for us at the West Locks."