A cool wind snaked through the depths of the forest and shifted the long, thin branches spread above Rerdas' hiding place. He crouched an arm-length behind a fallen tree, its moist bark obscured by a blanket of spicy-scented green moss.

He had been hunched there long enough to sink into the peculiar, patient trance that possessed him whenever he was on the trail of some elusive animal. Breath came and left him slow and even, drifting in and out of his lungs without a sound. His feet were rooted firmly in the damp earth, and his hands caressed an arrow poised against the scarred wood of his bow.

Beyond the heavy fallen trunk, he spotted movement at last. Herds of yarrow deer were moving through the forest on their seasonal journey east. Rerdas' breath stilled when the sunlight glanced against a rack of impressive antlers. One of the biggest bucks he had seen in some time. Fingers tightened, he waited until the deer dropped its head before inching his bow up, positioning his shot. The deer's head jerked back up, ears swiveling. Rerdas eased the bowstring back.

A clumsy arrow flew from somewhere behind him and  clattered into the trees far from the buck. The deer sprang back into the protection of the shadowed woods, the sounds of its flight fading as quickly as it had appeared. Rerdas straightened up and glared at the spot where it had stood.

Crunching and crashing from the woods behind him announced the arrival of the crown prince and his entourage. The little man stomped through the underbrush and emerged into the clearing, slapping aside leaves with a vehemence most people saved for combat. Rerdas masked his annoyance and bowed when the prince's gaze passed over him.

"I almost had it," the prince said plaintively. Slope-shouldered Yagru, the Queen's first huntmaster, trailed in his wake. Further behind them came the merry chatter of a crowd. Inofar's royalty did not travel without an obscene retinue of noble flatterers and servants.

"Of course, Your Majesty, of course. Most likely someone startled it," Yagru said. He shot Rerdas a nasty look.

"Yes. You must train your Second Huntsmaster further, Yagru."

"I have tried, but he is an eager young man. Too eager, perhaps," Yagru replied. Rerdas bit back his reply and arranged his expression to look contrite.

"My apologies, Your Majesty. It was my error," he murmured. Never mind that the gods-be-damned parade of courtiers was scaring off half the game in the kingdom.

The prince spared barely a glance for him. "Your master is merciful," he said absent-mindedly. "This looks like a nice spot. The hunt has gone on long enough. We will rest here a while."

At his announcement, the clearing bustled with servants, laying down heavy rugs and low tables quickly laden with food and drink. Rerdas dropped back to stow his bow in Hastings' saddlebags and tie the horse.

Yagru scurried after him. "What were you thinking?" the man hissed once they were both safely hidden from view by the horse's broad side. "Do not ever take a kill from the future king, you idiot. Imagine what would have happened if you had shot it! He'd have both our hides!"

"I'm sorry," Rerdas muttered. "I was just...hunting."

"Your job," Yagru said, jabbing a gnarled finger into the younger man's arm, "is not to hunt. It is to save your royal masters from the slightest embarrassment. Taking down a prize buck that the prince is unlikely to win himself would be a ridiculous breach of etiquette. We've been over this!"

"It won't happen again," Rerdas said. He needed Yagru to like him if he wanted to keep the position. It was either that, or curry favor with the nobles far above him and such cat-and-mouse games made him nervous.

The Queen's First Huntsmaster squinted at him, his lips pursed. Then he turned away, muttering something about the insolence of young men.

Rerdas fiddled with the straps of Hastings' saddle. Checked the girth and rearranged his bow and quiver. He delayed joining the throng around the prince as long as he could. He was no good in a crowd. Especially not this one.

            "Don't be upset with yourself," a cheerful voice said. "Everyone could see that the deer jumped after that rotten shot from the prince."

Rerdas looked up quickly to meet the warm brown eyes of the Duke of Umber. He blinked and took a step back from the young royal peer.

"His Highness was very close to taking the deer, Your Grace," he said.

Umber snorted. "I see Yagru has impressed upon you his politician's sensibilities. Probably a wise thing in the land of our fair Queen Kuraya." He peered at Rerdas and tapped a finger against his chin. Rerdas' attention was caught by the silver band that ringed the Duke's wrist. It was set with rubies the size of walnuts.

"You are cousin to the Lady Etiana Toriem, aren't you?" the Duke asked.

Rerdas nodded. He knew he should say something to keep the conversation going, but his voice seemed to have run off into the damned woods.

Umber gave him an enthusiastic smile. "A wonderful girl! Would that she were out with us today. Come over and sit with me. I want to hear if the rumors are true."

"Rumors, Your Grace?" Rerdas' shoulders cramped as he followed Umber toward where the courtiers were sprawled out in the sunny clearing. If the Duke said anything about Aunt Uralta they were in trouble. Rerdas' heart flopped into his stomach at the thought of what would happen if his aunt's condition were discovered.

Umber made room on one of the rugs, ignoring the indignant looks he got from two of the ladies when he unceremoniously shoved the trains of their dresses aside. "Yes...is it true she's decided to get into battleboxing? With the Duke of Wester's disgraced fighter, no less?"

"Oh." Rerdas' muscles unclenched. "Yes. She is very excited about her prospects." He almost rolled his eyes, but stopped in time. Such familiarity with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom was far from his place.

The Duke let out a peal of delighted laughter and shook his head. "She must see something the rest of us do not. I was at Imalroc's last match, and it was a sad thing. He's a far cry from the fighter he was last season."

"She has a plan for him, Your Grace," Rerdas said. His stomach turned uneasily.

"Umber!" the prince squeaked from somewhere amid the circle of courtiers, who moved so that Rerdas and the Duke could see the crown prince.

"Your Majesty?" the Duke responded, still relaxed. Few but one of the Queen's favorites addressed the crown prince with such ease.

"Settle a point for us," the prince began. "Countess Brognac is of the opinion that the court should move south and winter in Sol Serene. What do you think?"

"Certainly not, Your Majesty," Umber returned. "I, for one, am quite tired of some of the airs put on by the Southern Felds. Sol Serene is a lovely city, but it is a far cry from Kirinoll."

"Duke Umber, you cannot be serious!" Countess Brognac broke in. She was quite young, with a round face atop a skinny neck. "The Southern Felds are wonderful. And they throw such magnificent affairs!"

"If it is a party you want, Countess, you have only to ask. I've been toying with the idea of a grand ball myself. In Kirinoll of course."

Umber's suggestion was met with an excited burst of responses, and the nobles launched into a discussion of every element of the event, and in the hubbub Rerdas saw the prince wore a small, relieved smile. Rerdas glanced at Umber, who was surveying the chattering courtiers.

The Duke caught his gaze and smiled broadly. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

Rerdas inclined his head. "Artfully done, Your Grace," he answered. "I do not think the Countess Brognac meant any harm by her suggestion."

"Of course not. She's lucky the Queen wasn't here for that thought though. The Southern Felds are far from Her favorite at the moment," the Duke said. He looked pensive for a moment, and then blinked and cleared his throat as though he had let something slip.

Rerdas turned the reaction over in his mind, but he did not have Etiana's nose for politics. The Queen's discontent with the Southerners was hardly a secret, and whatever else Umber might have alluded to had darted past him unseen.

"You and your cousin must come to the ball," the Duke said.

Rerdas gulped. The Duke of Umber was ranks above the Toriems' normal social circle and his interest did not normally come without strings attached.

"Don't look so worried. Just tell Etiana that I would so appreciate her lively company," the Duke added gently.

He knew he ought to look thrilled, or at least grateful, but all he could muster was a sickly smile. "Your Grace is too kind."

"Hardly. I look forward to receiving you both."

For a very brief moment, Rerdas examined him, but Umber's motivations were indiscernible.

One of the ladies beside them plucked at Umber's sleeve and claimed his attention with detailed questions about the themes of his party. Rerdas sat silently for a while before unobtrusively slipping back among the horses.

He was preoccupied the entire ride back into Kirinoll. He and Etiana could hardly accept the Duke's invitation. They were trying to avoid scrutiny, not step directly into the center of the city's swirl of gossip. He would have to think of some suitable reason to avoid the party without offending the Duke. But Umber's fondness for Etiana had been surprising. Rerdas turned over a new possibility in his mind. His cousin was beautiful, unattached and charming. It was not ridiculous to entertain the notion that she might have captured the Duke's attention.

Umber rode ahead of him, beside the prince. Rerdas' sharp gaze traveled over the gleaming gold and studs of precious stones that trimmed the Duke's ornate saddle. Perhaps they should make an effort to appear at the ball. Their luck might finally be about to shift.