“No,” I replied quickly, and hearing the brusqueness of my reply, I added, “I think things are best as they are now. I am as comfortable as I need to be.” I would live here but I could not make it a home. It was useless to try. That private thought jolted me. Home, I reflected, was a place shared. The loft over the stable with Burrich, or the cottage with Nighteyes and Hap. And the chambers that I now shared with the Fool? No. For there was too much caution in both of us, too much privacy preserved, too much constraint imposed by the roles we played.

“. . . arranged for a monthly allowance. After this, Chade will see you receive it, but I wanted you to have this today.”

And my queen was setting a purse before me, a little bag of cloth embroidered with stylized flowers. It clinked sturdily as she placed it on the table. I flushed in spite of myself, and could not hide it. I looked up to find her cheeks equally pink.

“It does feel awkward, doesn’t it? Make no mistake in this, FitzChivalry. This is not pay for what you have done for me and mine. No coin could ever pay for that. But a man has expenses, and it is not fitting that you should have to ask for what you need.”

I understood her, but I could not forbear from saying, “You and yours are also mine, my queen. And you are right. No amount of coin could buy what I do for them.”

Another woman might have taken it as a rebuke. But my words brought a gleam of fierce pride to Kettricken’s eyes and she smiled at me. “I rejoice in the kinship we share, FitzChivalry. Rurisk was my only brother. No one can ever replace him. But you have come as close to that as it is possible for anyone to do.”

And at that, I thought we understood each other very well indeed. It warmed me that she claimed me through our kinship, through the bloodlines I shared with her husband and her son. Long ago, King Shrewd had first made me his with a bargain and a silver pin to seal it. Both pin and king were long gone now. Did our bargain still remain? King Shrewd had chosen to invoke his claim on me as the right of my king rather than as my grandfather. Now Kettricken, my queen, claimed me first as kin and second as brother. She struck no bargains. She would have scowled at the thought that any setting of terms to my loyalty was necessary.

“I wish to tell my son who you truly are.”

That jolted me from my brief complacency. “Please, no, my queen. That knowledge is a danger and a burden. Why put it upon him?”

“Why deny that knowledge to the Farseer heir?”

A long moment of silence held between us. Then I said, “Perhaps in time.”