“To Queen Phoria.” Thero raised the bottle and took a small sip; he had work ahead of him tonight, hopefully.

Korathan raised his cup again. “The queen is dead. Long live the queen!”

“Queen Elani, the Four protect her.”

They drank again.

“And to victory,” Korathan rasped, and Thero could tell the prince had started drinking long before he’d arrived.

“To victory, thank the Flame.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Korathan cleared his throat and asked, “Phoria— She died well?”

“Yes, Highness, in the thick of battle. Klia said she’d tell you the rest when she returns. She sails tomorrow, bringing the queen’s body and the Sword of Gherilain back to the city.”

“A wise woman, my little sister. This should put an end to any further rumors.” He took another sip. “Between you and me, Thero, I know Elani will make a fine queen, but Klia would have made a great one.”

“She doesn’t want the crown. She’s said so a number of times. She loves soldiering.”

Korathan let out a mirthless laugh. “As do I. Here’s to choosing one’s own path. To Klia.”

“To Princess Klia.”

Silence fell again, and again it was Korathan who broke it.

“You and the others have served Skala well, even when ordered not to.”

“As loyal Skalans—” Thero began, but Korathan shook his head.

“I’m not a stupid man, Thero. The Watchers serve more than just queen and country.”

“But never are those in opposition, Highness.”

“Never?”

“I can only speak for myself, and for Nysander when I knew him, but no. Never.”

“I haven’t told Elani about you yet. What do you think I should do?”

Thero considered this seriously; for one fragile moment they were, if not peers, then two men who held the safety of the nation in their hands. At last he replied, “When the time is right you should tell her, in any way you like.”

Korathan raised an eyebrow. “When the time is right? When will that be?”

“When we are needed.”

“I see. Yes. Well, thank you for bringing word to me.” His face remained a calm mask as Thero rose to go, but the lightest of touches across the prince’s mind revealed a bottomless well of grief.

Thero felt strangely guilty at leaving the man alone, but he’d clearly been dismissed so that Korathan could grieve in private.

As soon as Thero was gone, Seregil gave the signal to Micum to move out. The man disappeared down the shadowy street, only to reappear at the front of the house in time to intercept the watchman and engage him in conversation. Seregil couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the other man appeared glad of a break in the night’s boredom.