Kero answered with only half of her mind occupied by the conversation; the rest monitored the feast and the peoples’ reactions to her, a response as automatic as breathing. She couldn’t help but contrast the reaction of the Rethwellan Court to that of her brother’s. Despite the similarity of the circumstances—that she had personally rescued both Dierna and King Faram—in her brother’s home she had honor without admiration. Here she had both; an embarrassment of admiration, in fact. Some of the young ladies of the Court, those in the hero-worshipping early teens, had even taken to dressing like her. Predictably, Daren found this very funny.

But better that than fear; she was as much feared as admired by many of the Court. King Faram’s people had seen her in action and knew what she could do, now, where her brother’s people saw her successes as being mostly luck.

On the other hand, .fear didn’t bother her as much as it used to. I guess I’ve gotten thicker-skinned. As long as the babies don’t run screaming from me, I think I can handle a little fear.

King Faram impressed her as much as she had evidently impressed him. I can see why Daren loves his brother, she thought, watching the relaxed and easy manner they had between them, sharing jokes or admiring a particularly toothsome lady. It would have been very easy for Faram to resent what I did for him, but there’s absolutely no sign of any such thing.

In fact, he had ordered the sow’s head prepared and served alongside the boar’s head, and presented to her with a full retelling of the story. The Court Bard was a good one; with very little warning he’d done the tale up with bangles and bells, making her sigh, and wonder if this song was going to make the rounds the way “Kerowyn’s Ride” had. He had promised her a boon when the song was over; right now she had no idea what she’d ask for, but something like that was worth taking time to think about.

The feast was a bit more than she was comfortable with, anyway. Her people ate well, but nothing like this. She didn’t recognize half of what was served, and even though she did no more than nibble at what she did recognize, she was ready to end the meal when it was only half over.

Probably that was as much reaction as anything else, though. As always, she got her battle-nerves after the fact, when everything was over and done with. If I was standing, my knees would be knocking together. And I never, ever would have been able to pull that one off without Hellsbane.