Since the children who'd come along were obviously both, Cortin wasn't at all reluctant to defer to someone who clearly knew what she was doing. While they worked, Cortin got to know several of the ladies, discovering that their enthusiasm for the new family structure shouldn't have surprised her; in spite of the fact they were paid for sex, what they had was more like a Family than she would have thought possible. Most of the men were regulars, and it was common for them to visit for other than the obvious reason--mostly to play with the children. Many contributed to their support, some quite generously. And it wasn't unusual for working wives to board their children at the New Eden during the day. After all, as one of the ladies pointed out, where else would they get more adult supervision? Or, with so many Enforcement troopers as clients and supporters, better protection? Cortin had to agree. She still hadn't been able to work out a way to provide for unmarried women who wanted--or had--children; the Families were almost certain to face enough popular resistance without their main proponent advocating the legitimizing of prostitution as well. In spite of that, she had to agree there was considerable validity to the ladies' arguments that they performed a public service and should have the same sort of dispensation Enforcement did. Before the satyr virus' appearance, she might not have thought that way; since it was a fact, it had to be considered, and there were times people would be away from even a large Family. Something would have to be done to accommodate them, male and female both. That would have to wait, though; establishing the Families had to come first. In the meantime, she extended a standing invitation to the New Eden ladies: they would be welcome at Harmony Lodge, with or without their children, whenever they cared to visit. Prostitutes were becoming more respectable; having the High King's Inquisitor/Protector's Herald welcome them shouldn't hurt the process. Despite the help, though, she was keyed up when the Family gathered in the downstairs ballroom after Mass to wait for the Bains' arrival. There was no reason for her apprehension, she kept telling herself; she'd never had any trouble making friends with children or animals, and Betty had been married to an Inquisitor's brother; she wouldn't be afraid of one, and the children were too young to have any real idea what an Inquisitor was. Her position as Herald wasn't anything to frighten them, either, and word of her stigmata had hit the news hours after they'd appeared; even those wouldn't come as a surprise. So what in the Protector's Name did she have to be worried about?