He snorted with exasperation, as if he suspected she was prevaricating. “Then make me a Herald!” he exclaimed angrily. “If that is all that it takes, just make me a Herald and get it over with! I don’t know why you haven’t bothered to do it already!”

“I can’t make you a Herald!” she replied, now getting a little angry herself. Hadn’t he listened to anything anyone had told him since he had arrived here? Or did he only listen when what he heard was what he wanted to hear? “Heralds aren’t made, they’re Chosen.”

“Then Choose—” he began, but she interrupted him.

“They aren’t Chosen by a person, they’re Chosen by their Companion,” she told him flatly, a chill over her words that he seemed oblivious to. “So you can’t be a Herald because none of them have Chosen you.” She didn’t bother to add that he would then have to go through the Collegium like anyone else before he became a full Herald and could be crowned co-Consort and King. If he really had ignored something so fundamental as needing to be a Herald before becoming a King, he would never grasp having to be schooled for four or more years first.

“You’re telling me,” he said, slowly and incredulously, “that the reason I can’t be King is because I don’t have a white horse?”

“They aren’t horses,” she began, but he was already pushing away from the table.

“There must be fifty or a hundred of those beasts in that field next to the Palace,” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice. “They can’t all belong to somebody. We’ll see about this nonsense.”

He stalked out, and she might have tried to stop him—except at that moment she lost her battle with her stomach, and with that, her will to try to break him of his delusions gently evaporated.

Let him stand around in Companion’s Field with a carrot in his hand for the rest of the day, if he elected to. He’d only look silly, and maybe when he was tired, hot, and ready to come back to the Palace he’d be more reasonable.

* * *

:Chosen—: Kantor said, just as Alberich was correcting one of the younger Trainees’ aim with his bow, nudging his feet into a better stance, showing him how to aim along the shaft, then elevate to allow for the arrow dropping in flight. :I don’t want to interrupt you, but there is about to be something of a crisis. And we are the closest—we, and Keren and Dantris, of course—to the situation.:

Calmly, Alberich stepped back and let the Trainee shoot, not changing his expression by a hair. :What crisis? What situation?: