“I do." Arthur confirmed. "Am I to also understand then, as a matter of certainty, that being an Eidolon pilot is a requirement for becoming an Hetairoi?”

“Indeed so. It is the only unequivocally universal requirement, in fact.”

Arthur had suspected as much. The existence of Eidolons and the rare, special breed of soldier that piloted them meant that most higher society factions across human space settled their disputes with ritual duels between champions, usually to disablement, though sometimes even to the death.

It was a tradition that had been pioneered—even aggressively pushed—by the Grand Imperium since the creation of Eidolons, and had become a universal cultural norm across all of human space. Eidolon pilots were as intrinsically tied to the cultural traditions of most societies as the worlds upon which they resided.

The idle wonder of why gigantic robots had been pushed as the chosen form of resolution between the aggrieved upper crust of mankind presented itself, but Arthur chose to defer the question for later rumination. It was not one he was likely to find an answer to soon, regardless.

His focus was needed in the present.

“So House Leos lacks Hetairoi.” Arthur said instead, and while giving no indication of his cultural ruminations. “Cassandra wants me to fix that... And she mentioned her husband?”

“Yes. She is the Patriarch’s wife, though she and he share a great grandfather. She was from a branch line of the main family, though close enough in relation to be worth bringing into the main line.”

“Ah. Gene-potency, I imagine?”

“Exactly so.” Diogenes said with a nod. “Their daughter, Circe, is the most gifted Eidolon pilot in House Leos’ history. One of the most gifted in the cluster, truth be told.”

Arthur mulled on that for a moment and realized quickly the problem. While the heiress might have been capable of taking on a Knightly role, the reality was that the path was saturated by the possibility of death, or worse.

“They can’t afford to risk her in the role of a Hetairoi, I take it?”

“That is correct.” Diogenes confirmed without hesitation. “Lord Menelaus Leos had an unfortunate accident shortly after Circe was born, and is unable to bear more children. Circe is too important to risk on a Hetairoi’s lifestyle.”

“And from the sounds of things, they’ve had no luck recruiting other Hetairoi.”

“No, they have not. Sadly it appears that those seeking an end to House Leos’ primacy in their areas of dominion are working hard to throttle their ability to find adequate champions.”

Arthur reached up and idly massaged his temples.

His headache had gotten better, but now and then it still spiked.

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“You’re being paid by Cassandra,” he said with a glance up at Diogenes, “but can I assume you are still my lawyer?”

“Yes. I take my obligations very seriously, Ser Magellan.” Diogenes said with a firm and no-nonsense look. “I will not twist my advice to a client for anyone’s benefit, irrelevant of my relationship with them.”

Arthur blinked when a blur of color penetrated his vision, almost as if anchored around Diogenes, and then blinked again to clear it.

When he was done, they were gone.

He was going to need some sleep, if he was starting to hallucinate.

“Are you alright, Kyrio Magellan?”

“I… yes. Fine. Sorry. Okay, so you won’t lie to me. Somehow I feel like I can trust that. So…” he leaned forward and focused on the wizened lawyer. “Why House Leos?”

“They honor their accords, they treat their vassals with respect, and they will give you a powerful shield against others who may seek to use you for their own ends—and against your best interests.” Diogenes said immediately and with confidence. “Lord Atreus, whom I am given to understand is your sponsor—well done with that, by the way—and your Kidemónes escorts will help, but they are strictly apolitical and cannot shield you from threats that do not fall within their purview.”

“So I need a political shield.” Arthur said with a nod of understanding.

“And sword.” Diogenes agreed. “House Leos can be both, while the Myrmidón and his brothers keep you safe from other concerns.”

Arthur sighed again and looked up at the ceiling in thought. It was a risk. It was a huge risk, in some ways, but… Something about the situation called to him. Whether it was Nataliya’s wytchery, the effects of his time around Cassandra and her evident sincerity and love for her family—a love he knew he had never seen from his own family—or the simple reality of wanting to belong to something… He didn’t know, nor did he truthfully care.

Becoming House Leos’ Hetairoi might serve a personal purpose in giving him later political liberty, but it also answered a yearning within him that he could not deny.

Arthur hungered for purpose.

Becoming House Leos’ Hetairoi gave him that.

All he had, thanks to his abysmal Callandium compatibility, were the passive abilities his dense psions offered him; charisma, spatial awareness, heightened reflexes, moderately accelerated healing, and a deep and abiding ability to sense when he was in danger or when something could truly benefit him.

There was no sense in not trusting those abilities now.

If he managed to save House Leos from the edge of calamity, they would be indebted to him for the remainder of his life. Based on everything he’d learned, that was not an obligation they would ever take lightly—and having a Duke in your corner, no matter if it was the Rim or the Core, was never a bad thing.

“Alright, Diogenes. I’ll take the bait that has been so reasonably dangled.” Arthur said with an injection of mirth. “Rework the contract and prepare it for me, with the stipulation for Lord Leos to sponsor my own House down the line if I choose to pursue it.”

“I shall see to it.” Diogenes promised with a smile.

“And I assume there will be more to this than just signing the paperwork?”

“I would certainly presume so. Most likely you will be escorted to the House Leos holdings of Pallikári in Laconia, on Hellas, and brought before Duke Menelaus and Lady Circe. Whether or not Cassandra joins you is a wholly different matter upon which I cannot comment.”

“Well then. All this has made me extraordinarily hungry.” Arthur said with a wry smile and buried concern while rising from his chair. “I don’t suppose you know somewhere nearby I can find some good food?”

“Well now that depends, my dear boy.”

“On what exactly?” Arthur asked curiously.

“On how you feel about garlic yogurt and lamb.”