Profession

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A couple of days later, Jon and I went over to my grandparents for dinner. As always, it was great to see Alfred. Since they moved off the estate, I didn't get to see him very often. He congratulated me on the party for the Amazons; it had been very favorably received and the press had been great. "I understand that the attendees were very pleased to have the opportunity to meet your guests, and many diplomats had never seen your home, Miss Lys. Master Miles had highly favorable reports."

"It was mostly Z's doing," I said, stepping forward as he helped me out of my coat. "She's amazing. And of course, Darius and John and you helped immensely."

"It takes quite a bit to be a successful society hostess," he chided me gently. "The decor, the food and drinks are merely the backdrop. You work hard to ensure that your guests are enjoying themselves. Not every host makes that level of effort, and the skills needed to pull off a gathering like that, especially on short notice, are sadly underrated."

"Listen to Mr Pennyworth, honey," Jon said, putting his hand on my waist. "Just because you find something easy to do doesn't mean that it doesn't have value."

"Just so, Miss Lys," Alfred nodded, escorting us in. "I very much enjoyed the opportunity to meet your relatives."

"They were very surprised that you and the boys were willing to work for me," I said, then backpedalled a bit. "Not that they think I'm difficult,  just that in their experience, men don't serve women or take orders from them. Menalippe saw a little different, that time she came out in the world by herself, but she was really freaked out and I don't know how much she really remembers."

"You are a delight to work with," Alfred said serenely. "I always enjoy assisting people with imagination and talent."

"I hope that's not a hint that you're bored," Grandpa Damian said, coming up with hugs for me and Jon. Alfred gave him a very special look that never failed to make Grandpa look like a kid who'd just been reprimanded. "Come sit down, Buttercup, Jon." Grandma came over for her own hugs and Alfred provided drinks while we talked, discussing the party, the guests, and what my grandparents had heard through their contacts. It was all good. Public imagination had been captured by Amazons; they were beautiful women, but the impression they gave of the highest level of competence and intelligence sort of preceded the visual you got from them so it was a secondary trait. And they were a little scary. The myths of the Amazons had been romanticized, and even the brutal truth of their history  seemed only to add to their luster. Accounts of the party had betrayed a certain sense of inferiority in some quarters, while others had been even more impressed when they met the guests of honor. The party didn't change any minds--not everyone felt that they should get observer status, for example, but most opinions were positive--and it seemed to have done some good in allowing people to spend time with the legends. Access to anybody in a rarefied atmosphere always made people feel special, and despite what Alfred said, the food and drinks hadn't hurt.

"The Greeks are patrolling off what has been designated Themyscira's national waters," I said. "There are people who will want to invade their privacy, at bare minimum, despite the UN ruling that it is essentially a closed society and has the right to defend itself against invaders."

"People are idiots," Grandma said succinctly. "The Amazons aren't going to shoot to wound. I've only fought Diana, but the rest of them won't tolerate threats to their way of life, and they've been practicing for thousands of years." I nodded.

"I won't lose any sleep over it," I said, shrugging. "It's not a matter of a momentary lapse of judgment. People will have to travel to get there, and if they don't have second thoughts about intruding on a race of warriors then maybe their gene pool should be Chloroxed." Grandpa's eyebrows raised.