Aritha doesn't know that but she knows lying to vrondi is supposed to be impossible and she's mad about it right now.

"Oh, are you allowed to have intentions? That must be fun. I'm mostly not."

The Doll has no comment on that. At least, not one said out loud. 

"We have noticed," it says, finally, "that you - seek to know what is true. At least a little. Which is - more than most, in this place. The truth nourishes us." 

"Cool! I can read you naturalism books or something, if you promise not to kill me!"

"You could do that, if you wished." Another pause. "The Duke is finished his conversation with the Prince, now, in case you wanted to know." 

"Thanks. 

I wasn't going to sell you out. I won't tell anyone who hasn't completely fucking obviously already noticed."

The Doll bows, a little, in acknowledgement or gratitude or maybe something that isn't either of those. 

"You would be surprised," it says, slowly. "At how many things obvious to you are not at all obvious to others." A pause. "...Or perhaps not surprised, after all, you - are not stupid." 

(This is somewhat stalling, at this point, which is not a maneuver the vrondi-mind would previously have thought of at all let alone known how to do, but right now the Duke of Valdemar and the Doll now named Clover are having a very rapid conversation, during the brief window of not-being-watched, with the conversation inaudible to anyone nearby even if they were paying attention and no one is.) 

"No, I'm not." And it doesn't matter. She's very bitter.

She turns to go back to Duke Valdemar.

Duke Valdemar observes Clover stopping midsentence and covering the crest of Valdemar pinned to its hand. He doesn't move, just stands with his drink, staring into the distance like a man lost in thought. 

Aritha smiles murderously at him. "Dance, my lord?"

He blinks. Glances over at Clover, who - nods, almost imperceptibly. 

"It would be my pleasure - as long as you will forgive me for the fact that, whether or not you think I am as much the country idiot as that young Count did, I truly am not a very good dancer." 

He holds out his hand, though, with a smile that might even be genuine. 

She doesn't know what to make of that but if she's managed not to alienate her ride out she should keep on doing that. 

She is a good dancer, including the dancing skill of not letting bad dancers trip themselves over you. (Or causing them to, but she's doing the first, right now.)

Is he going for a polite distance or for plausibly-deniable touching.

Polite distance, at least to start with. He seems - not very relaxed. 

Hard to imagine why! Honestly at this point she wants to sleep with him just because it would be the most awkward and miserable experience in the universe. She mirrors his polite distance though.

As the song nears its end, Duke Valdemar looks past her, over her shoulder, and then meets her eyes again and, this time, does pull her in closer. 

Not to sneak any plausibly-deniable touches, though, just to murmur to her. "I find myself a little overheated. If you like, though, we might go elsewhere after this. My room, perhaps?" 

It could be flirtatious, but the look in his eyes isn't that at all. 

"I'd like that," she says back, and is touchier for the last little bit of the dance. Not just because it'll freak out Duke fucking Valdemar, for appearances' sake.

He knows what she's aiming for, and is less discomfited, though not entirely not discomfited. When the dance is over, he takes her arm, and ushers her out of the dance hall. 

"That young Prince we were seated with approached me, earlier," he says as they head toward the Gate-nexus room, mostly just to have something relatively harmless to make conversation about. "What do you make of him? He's very....quiet." 

"I don't know much about him. I don't sit at that table, much.

Quietness speaks well of people, generally."

"You think so? ...He approached me to ask about horses. Specifically he wants to claim an entire year's cohort of my Chargers line. For a suitable price, of course. Regretfully I cannot promise him this year's - I sell them at four years, already fully trained, and half of them are already called for not counting the Emperor's tribute. If he keeps his word, though, then next year I will be making some fine profits."

Duke Valdemar allows himself to look satisfied and proud. Which he is, if not exactly because he's made a good deal for himself. 

(He won't, of course, be selling this year's three-year-olds to anyone at all. If all goes as planned, neither he nor his horses will be in the Empire at all, in a month's time. But this is one of the secrets he's very practiced at keeping, and he knows how to conceal any hint of it from his expression and even his thoughts. He didn't have an amulet on his last visit to the Capital, after all - though, of course, it was much less at the forefront of his mind then.) 

"I hoped you might know more of him," he says lightly. "Whether he is - the sort to make such a request frivolously, on the spur of the moment, or if he would only bring it up if he had seriously considered whether he has the means." He's also curious what the man wants two dozen highly trained warhorses for, and presumably Aritha will also be intrigued by this, and might even consider it a favor from him to be letting her know. 

The thoughts visible to Aritha are memories of his horses. He knows all of the beasts he would be selling to the Prince, as individuals, and his fondness for each of them is indeed a little bit like how a noble man might feel about his children. 

Aritha assumes nobles aren't fond of their children or they wouldn't send them off to the palace, would they now. Not very strategic to be fond of a hostage. "I'm afraid I couldn't tell you that," she says, but thoughtfully. It is good gossip. 

He makes a "hmm" noise, and then they reach an unused Gate and he lifts his bracelet and asks for the Copper Apartment. 

It's ostensibly set up for guests, but the elegant-looking copper furniture is horribly uncomfortable. Duke Valdemar is inclined to invite Aritha to his bedroom just so they can sit on something soft, and if some other mage is intermittently scrying to make sure she's still with him, it might help with appearances too. 

Clover immediately jumps to help him remove his dinner jacket, and then fussily hang it up to avoid creases. Kordas is going to take this as a hint that they are being checked up on, at least for the moment. 

He can find a few other bland topics to cover. "That Count we sat with. New title? He seemed awfully touchy on the topic of, er, noble pedigrees." 

"Indeed! It can be profitable to be in the Emperor's favor." She inclines her head towards the bedroom, questioningly.

They can go to the bedroom! He escorts her over to the bed and offers her a seat. Sits beside her, still keeping six inches between them but it's definitely closer than they were during most of the dance. 

- and then, just as he's settling himself down, the Doll named Star follows them into the room and shuts the door.

     "We are no longer being watched by anybody outside this room," it says quietly. "Now would be a good time to speak." 

Duke Valdemar blinks. Starts to open his mouth, then closes it, and instead gives Aritha a thoughtful, expectant look. 

" - how do you do that?" she says to Star. "Never mind, don't tell me. - what did you want to talk about."

"Well. Mostly the fact that you, unlike literally anyone else, seem to have actually - paid attention to my treating the Dolls like people, since they obviously are, and - made the obvious inferences - and so I figured we ought to get onto the same page about what you intend to do about that. And what you think I intend to do about that, which presumably affects the former." 

"Everyone thinks you're going to work yourself up into an Honorable rage about something and commit treason and get your duchy handed over to someone the Emperor actually likes," Aritha says honestly. The vrondi being right there makes it much less tempting to lie.