51

The Prince was here in barely a week.

Myself, I would have come in secret, but the Prince walked boldly into Sable, despite the fact that he was greeted with much less than warmth. Despite the fact that he was probably walking into a trap set by the bandits. During the week, we had thought of no other reason why their leader would impersonate the Prince.

I was visiting the hospital when the Prince came, so the first news I got was a sudden tension in the streets and a crowd ranged outside the manor. Madelon's husband, Rhone, was there, and he told me the Prince and a small retinue had arrived. "I was with the General at the west checkpoint when he showed up. The guards gave him plenty grief, until Sir Dinn told them to stand down. He seems to like the Prince." He grimaced. "I don't know. None of the nobility have given us reason to trust them lately."

"The pack of lying thieves," said a man nearby. "I hope the civil war kills them all."

Not waiting for another word, Chaz grabbed my elbow and propelled me inside the manor.

"I don't think they were about to riot."

Chaz grimaced.

Mother was hovering in a small chamber off Father's receiving room. "What's going on?" I whispered, straining to hear what they were saying. There's a short hallway between the rooms, so I couldn't distinguish any voices.

Mother was rubbing her hands together, a bit nervously. The last royal we'd had in our house was Commander Ferid, during the war eight years ago. "Well, I'd say your father's apprising them of the situation."

"Did you see the Prince?"

Mother looked irritated. "Sun above, Salisha, why does it matter? You've seen the Prince before."

I hadn't seen the Prince since his parents had been killed. I wondered if he'd look different.

He did.

At court, people (behind his back) often commented on how much the Prince resembled Queen Arshtat. He had her delicate skin, blue eyes, and silvery hair, which he then wore in a braid. He was pretty, there was just no escaping it. And while he seemed skilled enough with his triple-rod, he always projected the air of being a court adornment, an attractive, powerless prince. He rarely spoke at court, though Donna told me he had been spirited and talkative enough three years ago when he'd summered in Estrise.

The Prince was frowning as he came out of Father's study, speaking with Dinn, one hand toying absently with his rod. At fifteen, he was taller than I remembered, a bit broader in the shoulders. His face still looked childishly soft, which made the grimness in his eyes all the more startling.

Well, what did I expect? A glass of wine and a flourished lace fan?

His entourage was quite small. I recognized his bodyguard, Lady Lyon, from seeing her with the Prince at court. Sir Kyle of Lelcar I only registered on my second glance. He was speaking to Lady Sialeeds, who looked angrier than the Prince, her arms folded against her stomach, her gaze moving restlessly from object to object. A younger woman walked behind her; she had short dark hair, a headband set with a blue stone, and carried a whip, and to this day I don't know who she is. Bringing up the rear was a tall woman in a narrow black dress and a voluminous black cape, crisscrossed by gold embroidery. Her dress exposed most of her pale stomach and chest, at odds with the hood that hid her eyes.

Mother was smoothness personified. "Welcome to Sable, Your Highness. Forgive me for not greeting you earlier."

The Prince glanced up sharply. In his large eyes, I could clearly see the transitions from surprise, to trying to remember my mother's name, to politeness. "Thank you, Lady Melissa."

Mother loosely clasped her hands. "I only wish your welcome had been more, ah..."

The Prince held up his hand. "It's not important."

Mother bowed her head deferentially. (I just stared at her. It's always strange watching your own parent play a part.) "Please, allow me to show you to your rooms."

"That would be wonderful," Lady Sialeeds spoke up. "I feel like I've walked my feet to stubs, I need to lie down." Sir Kyle gave her a lazy smile, to which she rolled her eyes.

Abruptly, the lady in black turned and walked into our small garden, staring moodily down at the pool.

"Don't mind that one," Lady Sialeeds said brusquely. "She always takes care of herself."

I glanced again at the garden, but the woman had vanished.

Mother took this in stride, and we led them upstairs. It was a good thing they hadn't come any earlier, or their rooms wouldn't have been ready. I could only imagine the chaos our kitchens had to be in, trying to create a feast for our guests.

Lady Sialeeds immediately retired to her room, while the Prince and the Queen's Knights continued to hash out tomorrow's prospects with Dinn. The whip-girl stood irresolute for a few minutes, glanced several times out the window, then trotted downstairs. I later saw her heading towards the city's walls, and she did not return for supper.

Our meal was rather subdued. Tasty -no complaints to give the cook- but there was very little talking. I could tell that Grand was busy assessing the Prince, from the way he held himself to the way he ate his curried rice. Father and Mother were both quiet, probably waiting for cues from the Prince. Dinn seemed preoccupied, and (as you can tell) I was busy watching everyone else. Lady Sialeeds brought up the subject of Godwin, and she and Boz spent a good quarter hour verbally flaying him. (I didn't join in; when angry, Lady Sialeeds dominated any conversation, and it took someone with Boz's thick hide to compete with her.) The two bodyguards stood at silent attention. No sign of the black-hood creature.

It was probably the presence of so many strangers in the house that made me unable to go to sleep at first. We just don't get a lot of visitors down here, especially ones with rank sufficient to stay in our house. That night, I tried to make myself sleepy by reading, but it didn't work, so I went downstairs to see if Father was still up. He was, sitting at his desk with a wide book propped open, staring thoughtfully out the window. I glanced down at the page. It was something about the first head of state of the Island Nations Federation.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He jumped, then glanced at me.

"Do you think the bandits will try to trap the Prince tomorrow?"

Father closed his book. "It's possible. Dinn and Lord Boz will certainly do everything in their power to prevent it."

I couldn't help smiling. "Bad news for the bandits, then."

"With all luck," Father continued, "the Prince will flush the bandits out, capture them, and restore his good name in Sable."

"And Sable will be in a position to join the Dawn Army?"

Father sighed. "A leading question, Salisha. When negotiating, use them lightly."

"I'm not negotiating, I'm wheedling out information."

"Yes. It's all too apparent." He neatly deflected my question by presenting me with a book, a smaller black-bound one. Stamped across its cover were the words Fields of Flames. "You remember that Grassland war, about twenty, thirty years ago?" Father was saying, as though I'd experienced it firsthand and not from passages in books.

"Something about a True Rune, yes."

"This is an account by one of the Harmonians who fought in it, a General Le Buque. I found it quite interesting and thought you might like to read it."

So I went back to my room quite pleased, the presence of strangers almost forgotten. It was a short-lived illusion. I cut across the outside balcony on the way to my room and so was in place to hear one last snatch of conversation before I went to bed.

"So, Zerase, I was talking to Genoh before we left-"

"It is of no account to me if you waste your time conversing with turtles."

"-and he was saying you're really quite old."

There was a brief silence that was so irritable you could hear it.

"Yes, Queen's Knight? What of it?"

"I'm just saying there's no way you could be that old, you with such incredible- ah!- no-AAAGH!"

A moment later, I saw Kyle of Lelcar trudging up the stairs, holding his hand to his face, blood seeping between his fingers. He gave me one preoccupied look before crossing into the guest wing. He paused in front of Lady Sialeed's door, seemed to think better of it, then went into his own room.