RAFFIN PUSHED PAST PO into Katsa's rooms… but now that Po considered it, a dungeon was the more exact term. Katsa had more weapons hanging on her walls and shelves than King Ror's entire blacksmithery. Enough bows for a complete kingsguard sat on one part of the wall, and that wasn't counting the knives and swords. Were the rumors true? Were they the same ones she used to cut out eyeballs and hack fingers off thieves? It was lit by eerie torchlight, completing the dungeon atmosphere.

Lady Killer, indeed, Po thought to himself.

Po thanked the young boy as he closed the door behind them. He followed Raffin in further to the middle of Katsa's dungeon, where Katsa stood next to a large meeting table. A dozen chairs sat around the table, though Raffin and Po were first to arrive. Katsa, who was quiet and calm before, was back to her usual self, fingers rapping on the table impatiently.

When she spotted Po, she paused momentarily. She saw his damp hair, the way his skin had darkened around his golden eye, and how it made him look even more rakish and uneven than she'd last seen him. She noticed how he slouched against the table with his hands in his pockets, and she saw how he took in her collection of weapons. She noticed how he was wearing a new shirt, one that was open at the neck and with sleeves rolled to the elbows. His forearms were as sun-darkened as his face, though Katsa did not know why she should notice that. Disgust went through her, and the energy heightened in her to be free of this place. She grabbed the nearest chair and yanked it out with satisfaction.

"Sit, Your High Majestic Lord Princes," Katsa declared. She often liked to use formality as a way of insult. Not even Po's father used that grand of a title, not even at court.

Raffin did not protest. He sat across from Katsa, and Po sat next to Raffin. Po did not need his Grace to know that Raffin was thrown back at her words, though he was not entirely afraid of her. "You're in fine temper," he noted.

"Your hair is blue," Katsa snapped back, and Po grinned. She was skittish for some reason but she still shared Po's sense of humor.

Raffin huffed again but did not reply. Po would get along famously with her if he doesn't already, he thought.

An old man who had been one of Katsa's companions was the next to arrive, though Po's Grace let him know without Po looking. Po looked anyway, because he was a Graced fighter and not a Graced perceptivist. The old man's mouth dropped open when he saw Katsa's face. Did this man actually…? He turned to Po and saw his black eye, then he turned back to Katsa. He did! He began to chuckle. He fought her! And he looks worse than she, but he managed a scratch on her! He slapped his hand on the table, and the chuckle turned into a roar. "How I would love to have seen that fight, My Lady. Oh, how I would love to have seen it."

"The lady won, which I doubt will surprise you," Po confirmed.

No Katsa I know would have let him win. The man nodded graciously to Po.

Katsa glowered, disappointed at his laughter. "It was a draw. No one won."

Behind the old man came the other companion that Katsa had rode in and ate dinner with. He was a tall man who walked with the authority of a king, though his thoughts were anything but kingly (at least, by Lienid standards) when he caught sight of Katsa. Ice-cold shock went through him like lightning, then anger filled him from head to toe, stubborn and heavy, almost as ferocious as Katsa was. His thoughts screamed in Po's mind: How dare this Lienid hurt my lady! Thinks he can spring on her when I'm not around! Me, Lord Giddon! An attack on her is an attack on me! He put a hand on his sword as he caught Po's eyes. "I say," he spit. "I don't see where you come off fighting the Lady Katsa."

His anger did not faze Katsa, however. "Giddon," she warned, "don't be ridiculous."

He ruined her beautiful face! Her companion, Lord Giddon, turned to her. "He had no right to attack you," he seethed as calmly as he could.

Through Katsa's mind went brief memories of the fight she had had with Po. "I struck the first blow, Giddon," she insisted, that familiar restlessness growing in her again. "Sit down."

Did he attack her in the night? She is a lady of the court! I knew I shouldn't have let her leave dinner by herself with men like him around! "If you struck the first blow, then he must have insulted you—"

"That's enough, Giddon!" Katsa slammed her fist on the table and jumped from her seat, offended. "If you think I need you to defend me—"

I'll never forgive him! Slimy Lienid needs to swim back to that backwater island he came from! He snuck in as a guest and attacked a lady of the court! "A guest to this court, a total stranger—"

"Giddon—"

Po knew exactly how to deal with men like Lord Giddon. He had seen his fair share of them at the inns. Men like him killed other men for so much as looking at their women. He rose to his feet and announced in his Prince Greening voice, "Lord Giddon. If I've insulted your lady, you must forgive me. I rarely have the pleasure of practicing with someone of her caliber, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I can assure you she did more damage to me than I did to her."

The royals liked those kinds of words, baked with apologies and pomp and sincerities. Lord Giddon was no different. His anger had dampened like a fire put out, though his hand was still on his sword. A dishonorable Lienid prince thinks he can come to Randa City and mutilate her face for pleasure. He hurts her and insults me

"I'm sorry to have insulted you, as well," Po added. "I see now I should've taken greater care of her face. Forgive me. It was unpardonable." From across the table, Po offered his hand to Lord Giddon, the typical royal promise.

That doused the last of Lord Giddon's fire. His eyes grew warm again, and he reached out and shook Po's hand. Perhaps if he doesn't wear those sharp rings… "You understand my concern," he said.

"Of course."

Katsa looked from Giddon to Po, at the two of them shaking hands and understanding each other's concerns, and confusion swept her anger away. Who were these two men to take her fight away from her and turn it into some sort of understanding between themselves? Po should've taken more care of her face? She would knock his nose from his face. She would thump them both, and she would apologize to neither. She had fought Po because she'd wanted to, and these men would not make it anything less.

Po caught her eyes then, and she did nothing to soften the silent fury she sent across the table to him. He was sorry to have taken her fight from her, especially when she most certainly was not a typical lady of the court. It was like she bloomed alive after the first swing. She'd spat dirt and laughed. He wanted to make it clear to her that he felt the same, but he also needed to keep an ally in Giddon. He had enough worries as it was, what with Grandfather's kidnapping, and he didn't want to make another enemy of a Middluns Lord so close to where Po lived at Randa's castle, not when Lord Giddon knew where Po slept at night, too.

"Shall we sit?" Raffin offered in the silence.

Po kept his eyes on her as they sat. Katsa watched him carefully, noticing that there was no trace of humor in his expression, no trace of the arrogance of his exchange with Lord Giddon. When Po was certain her full attention was on him, he mouthed his apologies. She understood them as clearly as if he'd said them aloud. Forgive me.

Katsa accepted it as graciously as a Lady Killer could. Well, she thought, Giddon was still a horse's ass.

The rest of the Council filed in not long after. In addition to Po and Lord Davit, the man Katsa had talked to at dinner, sixteen Council members attended the meeting: Katsa, Raffin, Giddon, the old man whose name was Oll, and Oll's wife. The rest were from Randa's court: two soldiers under Oll's command, two spies who worked for Oll, three underlords of Lord Giddon's rank, and four servants—one a woman who worked in the kitchens of the castle, one a stablehand, one a washerwoman, and one a clerk in Randa's countinghouse. Po learned quickly that there were others in the castle involved with this secret Council, and others beyond that in the neighboring countries.

Since the meeting had been called to hear Lord Davit's information from dinner, the Council wasted no time in getting started.

"I regret I can't tell you who kidnapped Prince Tealiff," Lord Davit confessed. He looked at Po, his face grave, and Po knew he meant it. "You would, of course, prefer that type of information. But I may be able to tell you who didn't. My lands border Estill and Nander. My neighbors are the borderlords of King Thigpen and King Drowden. These borderlords have worked with the Council, and some of them are in the confidence of Thigpen's and Drowden's spies. Prince Raffin, these men are certain that neither King Thigpen nor King Drowden was involved in the kidnapping of the Lienid."

Raffin and Katsa caught each other's eyes and nodded, agreeing on something Po couldn't tell.

"Then it must be King Birn of Wester," Raffin said.

"Tell us your sources," Oll suggested, "and your sources' sources. We'll look into it. If this turns out to be true information, we'll be that much closer to an explanation."


The meeting did not go on long. The Seven Kingdoms had been quiet, and Lord Davit's news was enough to occupy Oll and the other spies for the time being.

"It would help us, Prince Greening," Raffin said, "if you'd allow us to keep your grandfather's rescue a secret for now. We can't guarantee his safety if we don't even know who attacked him."

"Of course. I agree."

"But perhaps a cryptic message to your family," Raffin continued, "to say that all's well with him…"

Po nodded. Raffin was fast becoming one of his favorite people among Randa's court. "Yes, I think I could fashion such a message."

"Excellent." Raffin clapped his hands on the table. "Anything else? Katsa?"

"I've nothing," Katsa replied.

"Good." Raffin stood. "Until we hear some news, then, or until Grandfather Tealiff remembers more. Giddon, will you take Lord Davit back to his rooms? Oll, Horan, Waller, Bertol, will you come with me? I wish a moment. We'll take the inner passage, Katsa, if you don't mind a parade through your sleeping room."

"Go ahead. It's better than a parade through the corridors."

Oh, and Po. "The prince. Katsa, will you take the prince—?"

Po felt Katsa's eyes on him. "Yes. Go on."

Raffin turned away with Oll and the spies. The soldiers and the servants said their goodbyes and departed. Katsa, Lord Giddon, Lord Davit, and Po remained.

"I trust you've recovered from your illness at dinner, Katsa," Lord Giddon said, "if you've been starting fights. Indeed, it sounds as if you're back to your normal self." He felt light, unlike how he felt when he'd walked in. Po was glad he had the aid of his Grace to diffuse the situation, or Lord Giddon wouldn't be feeling that way now.

Katsa, on the other hand, was a different matter. She grinded her teeth and promised herself to be civil with Lord Giddon in front of Po and Lord Davit. "Yes, thank you, Giddon," she said, as rehearsed as Po's act of Prince Greening though with less of the ease and commitment. Po smiled at the sight. "Good night to you."

Lord Giddon was satisfied. He nodded, unaware of Katsa's tone, and left with Lord Davit, careful to avoid Po. Now Po and Katsa stood alone, and Po could drop his Prince Greening act entirely. He leaned back against the table, suddenly aware of how exhausted he was for the third time tonight. "What of me?" he asked. "Am I not trusted to find my way through the halls by myself?"

"He meant for me to take you through an inner passageway," Katsa clarified. "If you're seen wandering around the hallways of Randa's court at this hour, people will talk. This court will turn the most mundane thing into something to talk about." She seemed too familiar with that.

"Yes. I believe that's the case with most courts," Po noted.

She regarded him curiously. "Do you plan to stay long at the court?"

"I should like to stay until my grandfather's feeling better." Until then, at the very least.

"Then we'll have to come up with an excuse for your presence," Katsa said. "For isn't it generally known that you seek your grandfather?"

Po nodded. Grandfather was safe, but he hesitated to move on from the Middluns. He thought about the laughter, the rush of fighting, and what he could learn from Katsa, who moved like a beautiful and fierce wildcat... "If you agreed to train with me, that might serve as an excuse."

She began to put out the torches. "What do you mean?"

It was easier to say if Po wasn't embarrassed. He swallowed his doubts and said simply, "People would understand if I stayed in order to train with you. They must see that, in our view, it's a valuable opportunity. For both of us." With some niceties, King Randa would surely accept, too.

She paused before the last torch and considered his proposal. She understood him completely. She was tired of fighting nine or ten men at once, fully armored men, none of them able to touch her, and she always tempered her blows. It would be a thrill, a pure thrill, to fight Po again. To fight him regularly, a dream.

"Wouldn't it seem as if you'd given up the search for your grandfather?" she asked.

Po let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I've already been to Wester and Sunder," he admitted. "I can travel to Nander and Estill under the guise of seeking information, can't I, using this city as my base? No city's more central than Randa's."

Katsa knew he could do that, and no one would have reason to question it. She put out the last torch and walked back to him. Half of his face was lit by the light in the hall outside the door. It was his gold eye, his blackened eye, that was illuminated. She looked up at him with those mesmerizing eyes of hers and raised her chin. Po sensed annoyance in her.

"I'll train with you," she said. "But don't expect me to take more care of your face than I did today." Not like you promised Giddon.

Po burst into laughter. "Forgive me for that, Katsa. I wished to make an ally of Lord Giddon, not an enemy. It seemed the only way."

Katsa shook her head with disdain. "Giddon is a fool."

"He reacted naturally enough, considering his position..." Po looked up to her eyes again, and it was then that he saw how bad the wound on her face was. Lord Giddon was right in some terms: Po had scratched her, and he'd done it unfairly. He brought his fingertips to her chin. Katsa froze, forgetting the question she'd been about to ask, but Po cared too much for her wellbeing to have apologized for interrupting her. He tilted her face to the light to get a better view. "It was my ring," he said, his voice quieter than he wanted it to be.

Katsa didn't understand him.

"It was my ring that scratched you," he clarified. His Lienid ring, the one with the moonstone that stood for his father, the king of Lienid. Talk about coincidence...

"Your ring," she repeated, still not understanding.

"Well, one of my rings."

Katsa took note of the rings on his fingers. It was one of them that had scratched her, and now she was aware of his fingertips touching her face, and her awareness made Po aware too. He dropped his hand, but Katsa stood entranced. She thought he acted normal, as if this were normal, as if friends she'd only just made always touched her face with their fingertips. Her shoulders slumped as her thoughts slipped away from Po, dejected. A moment later, that restlessness came back again, and she marched to the doorway and grabbed the torch from the wall, marching as if she were leaving her problems behind.

"Come," she said, for it was time to get him out of here, this strange person, this cat-eyed person who seemed created to rattle her. She would knock those eyes out of his face the next time they fought. She would knock the hoops from his ears and the rings from his hands.

It was time to get him out of here, she vowed, so that she could return to her rooms and return to herself.

The urge was tempting now, strongly tempting. Po watched her and her thoughts and emotions, laid bare in front of him, most vulnerable in her dark room while they stood together. It grew in his throat, this desire to tell her that it was all right to feel what she felt and that he felt the same when he looked into her sparkling eyes. Most of all, he wanted to apologize for hurting her.

All he had to do was step up and tell her. He'd trusted her with his grandfather, could he trust her now with this secret? This deadly secret, so much bigger than Katsa and Po and Grandfather Tealiff, that would ruin Po's life and tarnish the Lienid name, the Lienid that were already thought strange on the Royal Continent, and isolate Po from his family. It was cruel how in the end it came down to that.

Without a word, Po followed her through her rooms.