Powell did so, taking a stack of mail, opening and going through it with considerable assurance and more speed than Cortin herself was managing. After a few minutes, she discovered she was doing more watching than working--and being impressed. When he finished with the stack, she took it and scrutinized his work. That was even more impressive than watching him, because he had dealt with every piece exactly as she would have. Impressive, and a little frightening--but she wasn't about to question a gift from God. "What do you do during the day, Chuck?" Powell flushed. "Not much, I'm afraid. Read, mostly, between Mass and supper--and entertain myself, of course. It's fun, but I'd like to do something more . . . productive." "Productive as in?" "This sort of thing. I'm pretty good at it, I think, and you don't like it--maybe I could be your secretary, or aide, or whatever you'd want to call it?" Cortin chuckled. "'Great minds' . . . You're more than pretty good, you're incredible--almost as if you were reading my mind. The job's all yours, with my thanks." Powell flushed again. "It's easy--when we were so close to being one person, you wanted me--maybe all of us--to know you as well as we could. I can sort of put myself in your place, at least enough to handle routine things the way you would. And I enjoy doing it." "As I said, it's all yours." Cortin handed him the invitation to Blackfeather. "I thought I ought to write this myself, and I'm never sure when I'll have time free, but I don't want it going out until we can be sure she'll get it after the Bains arrive. Can you handle that?" "No problem." Powell took the paper. "They'll be arriving a week from Saturday, right?" "That's what I understand, yes." "Mail it a week from today, then." Powell clipped a note to the invitation and put it in the middle basket of her stack. "Okay, anything else?" Cortin glanced at the clock and winced. "I have to call His Majesty and tell him about the Family--stick around and give me moral support?" "Of course." "Thanks." Cortin made the call, almost wishing the King wouldn't answer. When he did and she identified herself, though, she could hear a smile in his voice. "Good work, Colonel. Our congratulations to the newlyweds--please bring them to the Palace when you're free, to accept them in person." "My pleasure, Your Majesty--but there's more." Cortin took a deep breath, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. "They've adopted me as mother, and taken Cortin as the Family name." "Outstanding," the King said with obvious satisfaction. "A slight change, then. Bring them all over as soon as possible--Edward will be waiting to bring you to the Throne Room." "But what--" Cortin cut herself off. She'd find out soon enough; this was just another example of His Majesty keeping his own counsel. Good thing Dave and Tiny hadn't left yet . . . "Yes, Sire. Ten minutes, unless you want us in dress uniform."