With perfect timing, they reached the dais just as the music ended. And in a silence remarkable for a room holding so many people, the three of them ascended it.

Waiting for them there were the chief members of the Council, ranged in a half circle behind the throne—the Seneschal, the Lord of the Treasury, the Lord Marshal, and the chiefs of the Heraldic, Bardic, and Healer’s Circle. Representing all of the various and varied religions of Haven was the Patriarch Pellion d’Genrayes; Alberich didn’t know which sect and temple he represented, but he looked every inch the part—white-haired, bearded, in robes of purple and white that were absolutely stiff with white embroidery, and an imposing staff capped with a huge globe of amber.

“Who comes before the throne of Valdemar?” the Lord Marshal thundered, placing his hand on the hilt of his purely ornamental sword.

“I, Selenay, daughter of Sendar, and rightful Queen of Valdemar,” she replied, in a voice as cool as mountain snow. “In the name of the gods, I lay claim to the throne of Valdemar.”

“By what tokens do you claim the throne?” asked the Seneschal, who looked nothing near as imposing as the Lord Marshal. Truth be told, he looked as if he should be asking, “Have we got the order of precedence right?”

Selenay answered the challenge as her father’s daughter should. “By the token of my blood, of the line of Valdemar, first King of this land. By the token of my Choosing, by the Companion Caryo. By the token of my mind, trained to rule this land as wisely as the first King. By the token of my heart, that is given to the service of the people of this land. And by the token of my right hand, that will wield the sword of war or the staff of peace over it as need be.” She held her head high, and her voice remained steady and clear.

“And who vouches for these things?” the Lord Treasurer asked.

“I vouch for her blood, of the line of Valdemar, for my Healers saw her born of Sendar’s consort,” said the Chief Healer.

It was the Chief Herald’s turn. “And I, that she is Chosen by the Companion Caryo, for my Heralds saw her trained and granted Whites.”

“I,” the chief Bard said, somehow putting far more theatrical flourish into the words than anyone else, “vouch for her mind, for my Bards have tested her training, and found it complete.”

Now it was Talamir’s turn; his voice trembled a little, but only a little, and Alberich didn’t think that anyone noticed but him. “I vouch for her heart, for I am the Queen’s Own, and her heart is open to me.”