After seeing the royals into their magnificent carriage, Thero and the others accompanied the actors to a local tavern that everyone else seemed to be familiar with. The host saw to them personally and Thero found himself seated between the dark-haired beauty, Merina, and the pretty young woman named Tanni, who’d played the wizard’s daughter—another inconsistency, that, since Orëska wizards were always barren. But he soon forgot about such things, as both of them were charming and flirtatious. Brader was quite modest and reticent for an actor, and hard to draw into conversation. Atre, however, fit the mold perfectly, charmingly ruling the table. A very charismatic fellow, this one.

“You must dine out every night with one admirer or another,” Palmani remarked.

“Not every night,” Merina replied. “We’d never get any work done if we accepted all invitations. But yes, we are in demand lately.”

“Even if we do have to perform for our supper now and then,” the old actor named Zell said with a laugh.

“Aren’t you worried about the plague in the city?” asked Palmani.

“If we were still in Basket Street, I would be,” Atre replied. “Fortunately, through the generosity of our patrons, we feel quite safe where we are.”

“Who have you entertained lately?” Seregil asked.

“Let’s see,” said Atre. “Duke Almand, Marquis Dorander, and Marquis Kyrin, to name a few.”

“Don’t forget us!” chided Reltheus.

“Of course not, my dear Duke. Who else? The late Duke Laneus, Lady Ethia … And at a few of the houses in the Street of Lights, too. Your friend Eirual’s among them. Lovely woman, quite the hostess. I saw her at your party, didn’t I, Lord Alec? And with another beautiful young lady, too. Now, what is her name? I’ve quite forgotten it.”

All the merriment fled from Alec’s face. “It was Myrhichia. You visited her at Eirual’s house, as I recall.”

“Did I? It’s all such a whirl!” He paused. “But you said ‘was.’ Did she—?”

“She died,” Alec said tersely, and Thero was surprised at the anger that lay just below the surface of Alec’s restrained good manners.

“She was a good friend,” Seregil said smoothing the moment over. “She passed away recently.”

“I am sorry. We must drink to her memory.”

A toast was raised and Seregil tactfully steered the conversation in another direction. As skilled as Alec had become at playing a role, the sadness stayed in his eyes for some time.

“I’m fascinated by Skalan magic, Lord Thero!” Atre enthused over the apple tart. “Is it true that your powers come from having some other blood mixed with yours somehow?”

“Yes,” Thero replied, rather surprised at the question. Anyone should know that. “Aurënfaie.”

“Atre hasn’t been in Skala very long,” Alec explained. “He’s from the northlands, like me. No one knows much about Orëska magic there.”