Eker let out a small breath and squared his shoulders, willing his fears to subside. Summoning the dregs of common sense that still clung to him even in his sorry state, he remembered what Hanadan had advised him to do in situations like this, when he had no idea what the correct course would be and he wasn't prepared to take any chances. It would have been too complicated to consider everyone, their goals and feelings, who to ignore, who to favor and how much weakness he should reveal or conceal. At the end of the day, he was still the king and wanted to be perceived as such, so instead of overthinking, he chose to keep them guessing.

Frowning, he pretended to assess his surroundings.

"I said I was grateful for your concern, but are you the only ones who felt worried?"

He saw several faces drawing blanks, others lighting up with unearned smugness. Before any of them could work out a suitably diplomatic and equally empty answer, he went on sharply:

"I understand you didn't want to alarm the general population, but this turnout is truly depressing. Where's Tersi?"

It was Minister Sebek who answered this inquiry, thankfully without feeling the need to clear his throat beforehand.

"The good minister has been the victim of unfortunate happenstance, and has elected to remain at his residence for the time being, until he may remedy the source of his misfortune."

"So he took a day off," clarified Eker.

The old man bowed his head respectfully, then continued:

"Should Your Majesty summon him, he shall come directly."

"Good to know," muttered the king, then turned towards Hanadan. "When will your father be back, Lord Jebril?"

Every proper feeling within him rebelled at asking such a callous question, but nobody except the two of them - and perhaps Karuss - knew of Heddam Jebril's true fate. It was therefore imperative to continue the charade and seize upon the opportunity it presented.

"We have yet to be informed of the date of his return," replied Hanadan smoothly, "but as soon as we receive notice-"

"-he will resume his function within the Inner Council," continued Eker firmly. "And until that happens, you will take his place as interim-member with full voting rights. I cannot be deprived of another opinion while Tersi is off having his misfortunes and you two" - Amster and Chinchalla both started unpleasantly as the king's fiery gaze turned towards them - "seem to be in poorer health day by day with those dreadful coughing fits. I will instruct the royal physician to examine you at his earliest convenience."

Had he been too blunt? Too bad if their feelings had been hurt, because there was more coming.

Taking a few steps forward, he turned towards the only smiling person in the room.

"Mistress Braket, I must once again appeal to your goodness and ask you to send your most nourishing recipes to my quarters. I must recover my strength before tomorrow."

"I dare say you will do so after the very first bite," she trilled. "Such a polite boy you've always been, I knew you would turn out right."

Eker smiled gratefully at her and suppressed a sigh as he briefly entertained the impossible wish of placing her on the Inner Council. At least then he would be certain of receiving reasonable suggestions.

"But," continued Cook with a sigh, "it really is such a shame about the provisions we all made for your forefathers. I have instructed the girls to keep them warm for as long as possible, but they will all be unusable in any rituals."

A pang of guilt extinguished any other consideration, and Eker mournfully remembered what day it was. He'd been so fixated on the great gathering at the hunt on Monarchy Day, that he'd forgotten the very reason for that tradition. Remembrance of the departed played a crucial role in the life of every family, and for a king to neglect his own... This was a significant oversight.

It was good that the gentle admonishment had come from a person he trusted. If any of the men in the room had spoken about it - apart from Hanadan, of course - he wasn't sure he could have stomached it.

"Forgive me for the trouble I have put you through," he pleaded. "Even if we were to set out to the Golden Glade at once, it would take too long. So please gather the offerings you have prepared and give them away to the poor. And if you might allow me one more chance, prepare new offerings for the twilight repast. I know it is of less significance than the one at noon, but I can only hope it will lessen the hurt caused by my mistake."

Cook nodded at him, an approving light glinting in her warm hazel eyes.

"It will be as you say, Your Majesty. Only, your venerable forefathers weren't the only ones who were expecting you at the glade today."

Of course there'd been something else he'd failed to remember, but even if he tried, nothing came forth.

"Who do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

Cook feigned outraged surprise.

"Why, don't tell me you intended to break their poor little hearts! How they must have toiled to look their very best for you today, and let me tell you, that is a very difficult feat when there's a mountain trail to be tackled on foot."

When Eker only blinked back at her, Amster began clearing his throat out of habit, then stopped mid-cough.

"What Mistress Braket means, Your Majesty, is that the royal candidates are in attendance at the Golden Glade for the repast preparations as we speak."

"You'd all know everything about that, wouldn't you?" muttered the king, as he considered how almost every person in the room had a vested interest in the selection process. He shuddered as he remembered the intrusive «garden party» they'd held just a few days before right below his windows, as if it were all a happy coincidence he just couldn't avoid. What scared him the most was how many of them there had been , a legion of scheming minds and cold hearts, ready and willing to snare him for their own nefarious purposes, as had been the case with his mother and her fellow concubines. He'd tried calming his fears by reminding himself he was only supposed to marry one of them, but then he'd watched them some more and reached the unfortunate conclusion that a woman never came in alone. If he chose one, she would automatically drag in her friends, family members, and entourage, until a new harem would be built despite his best efforts.

Cold sweat broke out on the king's forehead, and a crippling feeling of powerlessness swept over him. He kept on trying to hold back a nervous swallow so the others wouldn't pick out on the extent of his fear. In particular, Hanadan had warned him about that uncle of his, and Eker could spy the man out of the corner of his eye, studying him carefully.

He floundered for an announcement, some order or new piece of information that wouldn't betray his weakness, as all he wanted to do now was crawl under his covers and surrender to sleep, perhaps with a little weeping beforehand.

Instead, he made his gaze flinty and once again swept it over the scant occupants of the throne room, comparing this paltry assembly with the veritable crowd the royal candidates and their servants had made, and then suddenly a fragment of conversation revealed itself out of his battered memories, along with some choice words that had marked him at the time. They had been a mock-answer to a serious question, but he was now beginning to suspect that more had been hidden in plain sight than he could make out at the time. Whether his guess was correct or not didn't matter that much, because now he saw the sweet opportunity to do a little bit of house cleaning. Smirking, he laced his hands behind his back and relished in clearing his own throat.

"I understand that the royal person should be held in high regard by his fellow countrymen," he said, "for such an individual does not only represent their own self, but the very institution of our monarchy. It therefore follows that knowledge of their toils and misfortunes should be restricted to a select few who may provide their services as part of their entourage. Since the lot of you," he added, gesturing to the scant figures before him, "are all that a king has to rely on, he must ask himself if the same number is expected of his future queen."

Not a flicker of reaction betrayed the other men's thoughts, but Eker made himself go on since momentum was all he really had left.

"Afterall, I would not want my future bride to become overly reliant on others when her own well-being - Channa forbid - might be put in peril by some devious plot. It is therefore by my express command that the following rule shall be instituted: no candidate shall be allowed inside the palace or on any royal property with more than one attendant. One! No other ladies, lackeys, or footmen. There has been too much traffic in these halls and I have no doubt that is how those assassins gained access. Councilor Jebril, kindly inform the Captain of the Guard that I desire a lengthy conversation with him before I leave for the glade."

He noticed with satisfaction how the other councilors were battling it out to determine who could achieve the reddest shade, but he surprised them both by singling them out.

"I must thank Councilors Amster and Chinchalla for their input, since they are the ones who urged me to take more interest in the matter of my future queen. As you can see, my lords, I have done so with the most important consideration in mind: their safety. I look forward to meeting your daughters at the hunt tomorrow."

Eker knew that wasn't technically true, since he was bound to have met them all before at some state function or another. They'd all been simpering after Essar back then, a fact for which Eker had been very grateful. But that was then and things had changed. He forced down the sad thoughts surrounding his brother, trying to feel sorry for himself instead, since there would be no more avoiding those women's attentions.

He whirled around abruptly, even while several voices were beginning their pleas, not meeting Hanadan's gaze as he skulked to another side door leading out of the throne room. Unsurprisingly, he saw Karuss turning to follow him, no doubt heeding his friend's orders. He suppressed a sigh, knowing this to be the end of the short era of relative freedom he'd enjoyed, but such were the demands of the job he'd undertaken. He had to learn to be more careful, and it all began with making sure no dangerous stranger could simply walk into the palace and do as she pleased.