They had shared several conversations now, which were, if not completely private, certainly mostly private. He really did understand the terrible burden of the crown, of being unable to ever have much real privacy, of having to be everything to everyone. They had talked about all the times when, as children, they had lost entire holidays being on show for the people. They’d spoken of the difficulty of finding real friends. She thought that he understood these things as not even a Herald could. If he wanted her, well, he had her. But only if he truly wanted her; she was not going to go into this now unless she had him just as truly.

He would have to say so. More than that, he would have to convince her that he meant it. Otherwise—

Well, in the end, she still might marry him. But it would not be for a while, maybe not for years. If this was to be nothing more than an alliance marriage, then she was not going to throw her heart after him.

:That’s the first sensible thing you’ve thought of,: Caryo said. She started; Caryo had been uncharacteristically silent lately, and had not—until now—said a single word about the Prince.

:What was the point? I don’t like him; I don’t know why. But you—you’re in love with him. Or with his face and manners and fine words, anyway, and you’re not going to send him away just because I don’t like him. I’d have to give you a lot better reason than that, and I don’t have one.:

Selenay bit her lip and stared at her mirror. :But if you don’t like him—:

:I’m also not going to try to stop you from doing something you really want to,: Caryo said, irritation clear in her mind-voice. :And if he can convince you that he’s as much in love with you as you are with him—well, there’s nothing more to say. It won’t be the first time that someone in a bride’s family hasn’t gotten along with the groom. If human families can put up with such a thing, so can I.:

Selenay found herself horribly torn between annoyance at Caryo and gratitude—annoyance, that Caryo would have the infernal gall not to like Karath, and gratitude that she was not going to stand in the way of what her Chosen wanted. She settled, finally, on the gratitude. There was no point in being annoyed, anyway. Caryo would do what Caryo did; the two of them didn’t always see eye to eye.

:It hasn’t happened,: she reminded Caryo. :And what would be better—him, or someone that was beholden to one or more of my Council, someone we couldn’t trust not to have a dozen people whispering in his ear?: