“Oh, she is that,” Dutiful agreed as he turned his gray. Myblack snorted as the other horse cut her path and seemed reluctant to turn and follow him. The hills and a longer gallop enticed her. “She is a queen before she is a child or a woman. She has not said one incorrect word to me. Nor one word that might betray what goes on behind those bright black eyes. She offered me her gift quite correctly, a chain of silver fitted with the yellow diamonds of her land. I must wear it tonight. To her I gave the gift my mother and Chade had selected, a coronet of silver set with one hundred sapphires. The stones are small, but my mother favored their intricate patterning over larger gems. The Narcheska curtsied as she took it and told me in measured words how lovely she found it. Yet I could not help but notice how general her thanks were. She spoke of ‘my generous gift,’ never once saying a word on the designs or that she liked sapphires. It was as if she had memorized a speech that would suffice for any gift we gave her, and then recited it faultlessly.”

I was almost certain that was exactly what she had done. Yet I did not feel it was right to fault her for that. She was, after all, only eleven years old, with as little say in these proceedings as our prince had. I said as much to the Prince.

“I know, I know,” he conceded tiredly. “Yet I tried to meet her eyes, and to let her see something of who I am. When first she stood beside me, Badgerlock, my heart truly went out to her. She seemed so young and small, and such a foreigner in our court. I felt for her as I would for any child snatched away from her home and forced to serve a purpose not her own. I had chosen a gift to give her that was from me, not the Six Duchies. It was in her room, awaiting her, when she first arrived. She has made no mention of it, not even a word.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“Something I would have liked, when I was eleven,” the young man replied. “A set of puppets carved by Bluntner. They were dressed as if to tell the tale of the Girl and the Snow Steed. I was told it is a well-known tale in the Out Islands as well as the Six Duchies.”

Lord Golden’s voice was neutral as he observed, “Bluntner is a skillful carver. Is that the tale where the girl is borne far away from a cruel stepfather by her magic steed, and carried off to a rich land where she weds a handsome prince?”

“Perhaps not the best tale in these circumstances,” I muttered.

The Prince looked startled. “I never considered it in that light. Do you think I insulted her? Should I apologize?”

“The less said, the better,” Lord Golden suggested. “Perhaps when you know her better you can discuss it with her.”