"Lord Governor L'Petrie, Clan Chiefs Samerson and Ruber, and Lord and Lady Garcen all reply that they would be happy to attend, Sire," Karigan said, in her best messenger's voice. She stood, hands clasped behind her back, polished boots shoulder-width apart, staring at a point that may or may not have been about a foot to the left of the King's ear. Usually she would meet the King's gaze head on, but it was only three days until the… event… and Karigan found she couldn't handle the weight of his eyes any more. So she stared a foot to the left of his ear.

"Unfortunately," she continued, "Lord Coran's second son is ill with severe fever, and he and Lady Coran couldn't possibly leave him. They hope you will understand, Sire; their boy is only seven years old."

"But of course. I understand their concern completely," the King replied, though it was rather pointless. Karigan thought he meant more by that sentence than he was letting on, but she didn't dare dwell on the possibility.

She cleared her throat. "If that will be all, Sire," she said, bowing and turning to leave.

"Wait, Rider," the King commanded. Karigan froze. One did not disobey the King.

"Tell me of your journey." There was definitely something hidden in that, something dangerous. For an instant, Karigan wasn't sure if she should answer, but there was an almost imperceptible nod from Captain Mapstone.

"My journey was ... uneventful, Sire," she said cautiously. She could see out of the corner of her eye that he frowned, as if that hadn't been the answer he was hoping for. Well, she wasn't going to be goaded into conversation that easily.

"Come, Rider," he replied almost immediately. "You once told me I should be more aware of my kingdom and my subjects. Tell me, for example, the state of the Kingway." The King's tone was light and airy, but she knew he was trying to bring back memories of their first meeting over two years before. Karigan's face flushed, and her ire rose to the surface. She snapped her eyes to the King's for the first time since she had entered the throne room, and they were full of anger.

"The Kingway is passable. Your Highness's foresters have worked hard to clear the debris from the winter storms, and many merchants are grateful for the ease of their journey. But as I recall, Sire," she added coolly, with all the politick her aunts had tried to drum into her, "I told you to see your kingdom. Perhaps you may do so on your wedding tour."

The King blinked on his throne, his careful mask slipping slightly. Good, Karigan thought, maybe he'll remember now that he is soon to be a husband. The thought did not give comfort, and her sense of triumph was soon quashed. When nobody said anything further, Captain Mapstone motioned for her to go, her face bearing the dark expression that warned Karigan she was in for a tongue-lashing later. One did not speak to the King in that manner, after all.

With a slight incline of the head, Karigan left the throne room, striding out with the gaze of Weapons following her movements from the alcoves. Her merchant's pride kept her head back and the tears at bay until well beyond the castle corridors. She fled to the nearest safe place, the gardens, where the scent of summer roses and honeysuckle might calm her.

This was terrible! She wondered how her life could get any worse. She was stuck a commoner, a mere Green Rider, and the man she loved, the King of Sacoridia, no less, was going to be married to somebody else in a mere two days. Oh, how she loathed Lady Estora Coutre for that. Yet that made her feel even worse, because up until the engagement, Estora had been her friend. What a mess! The King hadn't helped matters either, trying to get her to talk to him like that. Why couldn't he just let her get on with her life instead of trying to engage her every time they happened to be in the same room?

A small meow by her elbow made Karigan look up with a sniff. The tomb cat looked strangely out of place here in the bright sunshine, squinting slightly as if the light was too bright.

"What are you doing out here, Lil?" she asked with some surprise. The cat, affectionately named for the First Rider because of her habits of hovering in unexpected places and her tenacity with the castle's mice, only meowed again, and shoved her head up under Karigan's hand, purring.

The Rider sighed, picking Lil up and cradling her to her chest. The cat merely purred louder and snuggled against Karigan in the most un-catlike fashion. It made her break down in tears again.

"Oh, Lil, what am I going to do!" She might as well have asked the First Rider herself, for all the reply she got. Her first instinct was to saddle Condor and gallop as far away as possible from all of this, into the cool woods where she could fade out and stay invisible forever. Her special ability had come easier to her since the summer, since she had gained bleary memories of the dead rising and an unearthly black stallion walking on white plain. It didn't pain her so much.

"Hello?" came a voice from around the corner of the path. Karigan knew that voice. Estora. She was stepping closer, cautiously, following on the heels of Fastion, who was presently guarding her life.

"Wait here, My Lady," he instructed in a low voice, before gliding over in the manner particular to Weapons. Karigan faded out with only the merest thought, dragging Lil into the grey world with her, though the cat still shone white against her dulled sleeve. Fastion must have seen her the second before she disappeared, taken in the tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes, because he nodded and turned back to his charge.

"Your concern is unfounded, My Lady," he said. "There is nobody there."

"Really? I could have sworn –"

Karigan didn't stay to hear the rest of the sentence; she ran through the castle corridors, still faded out, still holding the cat, until she reached her room in the Rider Wing and dropped on her bed, exhausted from using her special ability and from the events of the day. She curled up with her back to the door, not wanting to see anyone, and not noticing she was still wearing her highly polished parade boots.