The ship skimmed across the harbor to a secluded cove on the seaward side of a wooded island just beyond the outer moles. Sailors rowed them ashore and Elani led the company up to a pretty wooden pavilion that stood in a clearing just above the shingle. Its ornately carved posts and railings were weathered silver with age and decked with flower garlands. While the servants prepared the midday meal and the older courtiers settled down to gamble and gossip, Elani, her ladies and sisters, and the younger nobles wandered the trails that wound through the woods to various vantage points overlooking the sea.

Seregil found himself revising his view of Elani. She’d been bored at Alaya’s salon until the talk had turned to hunting and bows, and had been cheerful and friendly at the lists. This island was clearly a special place for her, and she seemed much more her age as she held her youngest sister, Princess Leali, by the hand and led the party to gulls’ nests that covered the ground on the leeward side to see the fuzzy grey-and-white chicks, and on to a shadowed glade where rare pink and white saphis flowers bloomed, the frilled, slipper-shaped blossoms swaying gently on their long stalks. There was a pond, as well, stocked with huge, precious gold-and-white-striped fish that rose greedily to eat the crumbs the girls scattered for them.

Duke Reltheus occupied a favored place at her side. He made her laugh, and she occasionally took his arm. Seregil and Alec, however, found themselves at the back of the pack among the lesser courtiers.

“Her Highness certainly seems fond of the duke,” Alec remarked to Earl Stenmir.

“She’s fonder of the father than the son, they say,” Tolin murmured, keeping his voice down. Then, without much warmth, “And you seem to have made quite an impression in a very short time, Lord Alec.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, but you have. Wouldn’t you say so, Lord Seregil?” Stenmir insisted with a somewhat nasty grin.

“They’re both archers,” Seregil said with a shrug.

Neither answer seemed to satisfy the count. “Of course, you’re some relation to the princess, aren’t you, Lord Seregil? Odd that we haven’t seen more of you at court. Is it true that you’re in trade?”

“I amuse myself with a few investments now and then,” Seregil replied with an easy smile, not rising to the bait of what was clearly intended as an insult.

“And with Lord Alec,” a young countess said with a laugh.

“A lucky thing for our friend Reltheus,” Duke Solis, a friendlier sort, noted, nudging Alec good-naturedly with his elbow. “He wouldn’t welcome any competition for a certain person’s hand.” He shot a meaningful look in Reltheus’s direction that no one missed.

“Do you think his hopes are well founded?” asked Seregil.