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Pyrrha had whiskey and a cigar, but even Pyrrha - green eyes, sexy smile, shoulders to absolutely die for - could not reconcile Mercy to whiskey and cigars. Cristabel would have stolen a swig of the whiskey and a long pull on the cigar, but she was occupied at the moment, steering Mercy in more or less the right direction.
“John will be at the back,” Cris said.
“Holding court. Pfa!” Mercy waved one hand irritably in front of her nose. “It smells like a trash fire in here.”
“Breathe through your mouth,” Cris advised. “You can leave after midnight.”
“I can leave once this farce becomes garments optional,” Mercy corrected. “Which, by prior experience, will be approximately 9:43.”
“John will notice if he can’t kiss you at midnight.”
“John will have Ulysses down his throat. I am owed and I was promised.”
Cris was impressed. “What did you do ?”
Mercy almost blushed. “Never mind.”
“Is Ulysses here yet?” Cris asked.
Mercy stood on her toes and looked around. “Not yet,” she acknowledged. “But he will be.”
Cris giggled into her shoulder. “Or what?”
“Fire and the sword,” said Mercy. “Mostly fire.”
“Wicked,” Cris said. She pointed at John, finally within view. “Our host. Go be charming.”
“He’s got Augustine hanging all over him, dammit.” Mercy steeled herself, and pasted on a smile. “Alright.”
John spotted Mercy first, and turned to her with his hands out. “Mercymorn, my darling!” He kissed her cheek, then her neck, leering into the cleavage of her evening gown. “Have you heard the wonderful news?”
“What news, dearest?” Mercy did her best to sparkle.
Augustine stepped in. “I’m a proud father!” He handed Mercy a photo. “Aurelia Augusta Cinqieme, newest lady of Koniortos Court, born just yesterday.”
Cris stepped forward to glance over Mercy’s shoulder. The infant in the picture looked squashed and indignant. “She’s perfect! But what are you doing here ?”
Augustine poured whiskey into a tumbler and pressed it into Mercy’s hand. “This is a scheduled stop on my journey home,” he explained. “Won’t get there any faster if I leave early. Have a drink. Have a cigar.”
John raised his glass. “First reborn! And first among us to - “ The Lord of the Nine Renewals was still floundering after a euphemism when Ulysses arrived. He had Titania on his arm.
“Augustine!” Ulysses greeted the First Resurrected heartily, but Cristabel thought he was panting. “I heard, my good man, I heard!” Ulysses took a glass and admired the picture. “To her health!”
Titania drifted over towards Cris and rolled her eyes. “He insisted on running practically the whole way from the docks. We had to wait outside for him to catch his breath,” she murmured. “And an obnoxious little man followed us the entire time, yelling about something. Was your trip alright?”
“Fine,” Cris said. “No trouble. Glad you made good time.”
Mercy was fidgeting, tilting her glass this way and that to slide the ice around.
“Yes, well.” Tania laughed. “Yul had a hell of a talk with Mercy and came away with some worries about novel microbes.”
Cassy swept in, dress shimmering, hands full of papers. She stopped and kissed Tania’s cheek, then Cris’s, then Mercy’s. “Happy New Year, sweethearts. Ulysses here?”
Mercy gestured with her glass. “As promised.”
Cassy set her mouth in a straight line. “Right. Yes. There may be a fly in that ointment. Ulysses?”
“Cass!” Ulysses bustled up to her and kissed her. “What’s all this? Are you working , today of all days? Have you heard Augustine’s news?”
“No rest for the wicked. I ran into a process server outside, and I may have told him I’m your lawyer.”
Ulysses leered at her genially. “Well, in certain senses of both of those words…”
Titania kicked him. “Sorry Cass. He can try and be serious. What are we dealing with?”
“Paternity suits,” Cassy said. “Rather a lot of them. We urgently need to talk.” Cass reached out and took Augustine’s cigar away. “Someone put the second of us to reproduce on a shuttle before the mother of the newest Lady of Koniortos decides it's fashionable to take legal action.”