But Crathach didn’t seem to have any more idea than he did. “Ever since Rolan arrived, I’ve been too busy to go near the command tent,” he replied and sighed. “And at the moment, my services as a Healer are in far more demand than those as a bodyguard.”

Alberich grimaced. “Wish I could, that otherwise it were.”

Crathach nodded. “And I. It is good to be able to use one’s Gifts, but—” He could only shrug helplessly.

They parted then, but having seen Talamir alive, if not exactly well, Alberich’s heart felt a little lighter.

But now it was time to face the Queen. And he was not looking forward to that. For no matter what Myste said, he was not at all sanguine about his reception. Surely Selenay would never want to see his face again, after what he’d done to her. If nothing else, she would never forgive him for keeping her away from her father’s side, and who could blame her?

Probably she wanted to see him only so that she could tell him she wanted him to return immediately to Haven and confine himself to the salle from now on…

It was in this mood that he presented himself at the command tent.

The guards—his choice, he saw, with pride—let him past. He tried to slip in unnoticed, but Keren spotted him, and bent down to whisper in Selenay’s ear. She looked up sharply.

“Herald Alberich—” she said.

Silence descended like a warhammer.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “You summoned me, Majesty.”

“I did. Come here, Herald Alberich.” Queens did not say “if you please.” Queens issued orders, and their subjects obeyed. As did he. He made his way between two ranks of officials and highborn who parted to let him pass, thanking his luck that the tent was not all that large, for to have to pass a gauntlet of only a double-handful of watchers was bad enough. She was sitting in her father’s chair, at his table, and she watched him with a measuring gaze as he approached.

“Don’t kneel,” she said sharply, as he started to bend. “And look at me.” She tilted her head to one side and looked him up and down. “You’ve gone back to your shadow-Grays, I see. Good; if you’ve no objection, except when we need you in Whites for—ah—formal occasions, I should like you to keep to them. It will serve very well to make it clear that while you are taking Talamir’s place for some little while, you are not the Queen’s Own.”

He blinked. Surely he had not heard that correctly. “Majesty?” he faltered. “I am—what?”