The letter from Lady Aspen came later that day. Maelyn had stopped expecting it, had just assumed Willow's mother would not write back. So the hired messenger from Grunwold surprised her, and she momentarily feared the letter came from Uncle Jarrod. Luckily, the royal seal was absent.

My dear Princess Maelyn,

How kind you were to write. Thank you for your expressions of sympathy-the loss of my son Rowan came as a heavy blow to our family. He took such pride in his role as Royal Messenger and spoke fondly of all of you in Runa. He also greatly admired King Dellan until his own untimely death.

King Dellan. Maelyn had grown sensitive to this term when it was spoken by nobles. She had noticed they avoided saying 'your father' and staunchly clung to his name, as if wishing to deny Maelyn's relationship to him. She knew some did it intentionally, but for people like Lady Aspen it was impossible to tell.

Like you, I fully expected Alder to take his place. But Alder has a fast-growing family and his tenants to oversee. He also suffers from occasional pain in his spine because of an injury some years ago. I believe King Jarrod was being considerate in appointing Willow, a younger and healthier man, not yet encumbered with a wife and children. He has always been most generous to our family.

HA! Maelyn thought. Uncle Jarrod was generous to no one. If he had wanted Alder as his messenger, he wouldn't have cared two carrots about Alder's spine, or the inconvenience to his family. Uncle Jarrod had appointed Willow because he had wanted Willow. Generosity played no part in it.

I trust Willow is fulfilling his new duties with the same consideration as his departed brother. Should you have any dissatisfaction with him, please write to me without hesitation. At times, I do believe he might be missing his former life. But we were never ones to shirk our duty to the king.

With much respect,

Lady Aspen of Grunwold

Safe and boring, Maelyn thought, rolling the letter. Saying what one would expect Lady Aspen to say, with nothing to get her in trouble if the letter were intercepted. Maelyn gave the hired messenger a silver and told him she would send no reply. Once he had gone, she crossed her legs at the ankles, sat in deep thought for several minutes, then read the letter again.

At times, I do believe he might be missing his former life. That had been the only line of interest, the tiny crack in the carefully constructed wall of words. Did Willow's mother not want him to be the messenger? Maelyn realized she had no knowledge of what Willow had done before he came to Runa. Knew almost nothing about his interests and hobbies. He seemed to understand her appreciation of books, so he must enjoy reading. What else did he enjoy? She would have to find that out.

With the throne room empty, she now waited for the wang-wang of Heidel's bell. Maybe she would take her meal to her room-she didn't care to see Coralina just then. Maelyn rolled the letter again, unaware that someone had crept into the room and now stood just below her throne.

"OH!" Maelyn jumped. "Oh Ari, you scared me to death!"

"You didn't hear me come in?"

"Not a bit. I was reading a letter."

"There's no one on the hill."

"Good! Maybe it's too hot." Maelyn loved that about the summer, making the people less willing to face the uphill hike to the castle. Her callers always dropped in midsummer and midwinter.

"Would you have time for one more person?" Arialain asked.

"There's someone else?"

"Yes. Me."

Maelyn felt her defenses rise. Formality was unusual for Arialain. "Is there something you want from me, Ari?"

Arialain nodded. She wore her favored cherry-red dress with the sash and sleeves of rosy peach. Her wispy hair was tucked behind her ears and turned upward where it touched her shoulders. Her body looked as lithe and weightless as those astonishing female acrobats who could balance on top of each other. Except for the gentle blossoming of her chest, she had barely changed since she was ten years old.

"I wondered if I could train for something," Arialain said.

"Train for what?"

Arialain opened her mouth. Closed it. Then seemed to choose new words. "For sword fighting."

This was not what Maelyn expected. "Sword fighting? Real sword fighting?"

"I think if I wore a sword... at the door... it would be safer for us. And I like doing it."

Maelyn had often seen Arialain smacking wooden swords with her sisters, and sometimes, with that awful boy. She did seem to love it. She was always pestering someone to fight her.

Maelyn looked down at her sister, standing on the strip of crimson carpet that led up to the throne. "Well, as it happens, I will be asking the knights of Lumen Fortress to pay us a visit. Perhaps one of them could give you some lessons."

Arialain's green eyes jumped wide open. "You're going to LET me?"

"I don't see why not. It's a good skill."

"You don't think I'm too small?"

"You are small so you'll have to be careful. But I don't mind if you learn."

Arialain gave an excited squeal. "Thank you, Mae!" She flew up the shallow steps and gave her sister an impetuous hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so excited and I love you forever!"

Maelyn laughed and patted her sister's back. "It's no trouble." She was glad to see Arialain so happy. Developing talents was important. What she didn't say aloud was that she intended to find the youngest, most agreeable knight to train her. If-as a side benefit-he turned Arialain's head and distracted her from that odious boy, so much the better.

*********

"Not sorry, don't miss him!" Heidel said.

"I understand that," Maelyn said patiently. "He provoked you. It wasn't wrong to be angry. It's just that your... methods of expressing your anger could land us in a lot of trouble."

"Eravis' father won't attack us." Heidel had come with the tray of warm milk and honey they liked to drink before bed. Not every night, but they did it often, usually in Maelyn's chamber. This included Briette, who sat with her cup and stared at the cold fireplace, mostly silent. Briette usually preferred to listen rather than speak.

"Well, it would be a silly reason to go to war," Maelyn said.

"Erlamon won't go to war," Heidel said, referring to Eravis' father. "He's too busy having conversations with the bricks in the wall. Of course, Eravis would declare war on me in a second, but he's not the king yet. Let him stay inside and lick his wounds."

"Only dogs do that," Briette said, and Heidel burst with laughter. Maelyn smiled and eased off her shoes with her toes, letting the warm milk seep down through her limbs. She still wore her throne room finery.

"Have you apologized to Ivy?" Maelyn asked.

Heidel blew a gust of air that sent her bangs flying upward. "Yes. Thought she would take it better, though. She's still pretty mad at me." She set her cup down on the small table they shared between the three chairs.

"Why does Eravis taunt you so much?" Maelyn asked. "He behaves quite decently with the rest of us. Why does he always make you his target?"

Heidel shrugged. "Well, we were friends for a short while when we were younger. But he got too competitive and I stopped liking him and his pride couldn't handle that. He's never forgiven me and torments me whenever he sees me. Which I now hope will be never again."

Maelyn suppressed a sigh. They had now grossly offended both Prince Luxley and Prince Eravis. Did her sisters not realize that princes didn't come by the dozen? She had hoped-and still hoped-that Luxley and Eravis would seek their wives among the nine princesses. They were both decent men with forgivable flaws: Luxley, a little silly and vain; Eravis, more than a little sarcastic, and also vain. Perhaps that came with being a prince. But her mother had liked them, and seemed to think them good enough for her daughters.

Which was why these mishaps distressed Maelyn so much. Whatever path in life her sisters would walk, they would probably choose someone to walk with them. Most people got married at some point or other. But when it happened with her sisters, she needed the husbands to be princes or kings, as their mother had wished. "Remember, I took you out of poverty," Runa had told her daughters at one memorable supper. "Do not marry back into it."

That's why she had to separate Arialain from Tofer, besides the fact that he was a disrespectful louse. And why she had to keep Willow at arm's length. With her sisters, she could perhaps accept a high-ranking noble if no prince presented himself. But not Maelyn. As the next queen of Runa, she must marry very high. She would not disappoint her mother in any detail.

Briette looked inside her cup. "Could I get some more milk?"

Heidel shook her head. "Pearl hasn't been giving us much. Can you blame her? She hasn't seen the outdoors in two weeks. She's not eating well, she's gotten thinner, and she looks miserable. It's a problem."

"We have to get her out of there. We should've done it by now," Maelyn said. "Could we carry her? If say... two of us each took a leg?"

Heidel slapped the arm of her chair and laughed. "Thank you for that mental image!" She laughed more. "We would probably hurt Pearl. And ourselves. No, there will be no cow carrying around here."

"Then what do we do? A ramp?" Maelyn asked.

Briette shook her head. "The angle of the stairs would make it too steep. This is very serious. The entire fourth floor is beginning to smell like a barn."

Heidel looked at Maelyn and grimaced. "We have to bring in the butcher. We have no choice."

"No, no, no." Maelyn couldn't do that to Shulay. To have that happen to Pearl in Shulay's own bedroom would traumatize her for life. But something had to be done. Sixteen days until Uncle Jarrod arrived to prove that Maelyn was an incompetent ruler.

And she couldn't even get a cow out of her castle.