“Katsa, only you would consider the collapse of the ceiling a good joke.”

There was a knock at the entrance to their room then, and Po actually began to giggle. “You’ve been in the cider,” Katsa said accusingly as she went to the door. “You’re drunk.”

And then she swung the door open and almost sat down on the floor in astonishment, because before her in the hallway stood Raffin.

He was muddy and smelled like horses. “Did we get here in time for the food?” he asked. “The invitation said something about pie, and I’m starving.”

Katsa burst into laughter, and then into tears, and once she started hugging him she couldn’t stop. Behind Raffin stood Bann, and behind Bann stood Oll, and Katsa hugged them and cried over them as well. “You didn’t tell us you were coming,” she kept saying. “You didn’t tell us you were coming. No one ever even told me you were invited.”

“And you’re one to speak of sending word,” Raffin said. “For months we didn’t hear a thing from you—until one day Po’s brother appeared at our court with the wildest story any of us had ever heard.”

Katsa sniffled and wrapped her arms around her cousin again. “But you understand, don’t you?” she said to his chest. “We didn’t want to get you mixed up in it.”

Raffin kissed the top of her head. “Of course we understand.”

“Is Randa with you?”

“He didn’t care to come.”

“Is the Council well?”

“It’s moving along swimmingly. Must we stand here clogging the hallway? I wasn’t joking about starving to death. You’re looking well, Po.” Raffin peered doubtfully at Katsa’s short hair. “Helda’s sent you a hairbrush, Kat. Much use it’ll be.”

“I’ll cherish it,” Katsa said. “Now come inside.”

LIKE ANY EVENT requiring formal clothing, the crowning ceremony was tedious, but Bitterblue endured it with the appropriate gravity and poise. The rim of the great golden crown was padded with some thick purple material, to keep it from sliding down to rest on her nose. It looked, Katsa thought, as if it weighed as much as the girl herself did.

Katsa didn’t mind the tedium, for Raffin was on one side of her and Bann on the other, and not five minutes passed without them amusing themselves in some way. When Bann whispered to her about Raffin’s new medicinal discovery that cured bellyache but caused itchy feet, and his subsequent discovery that cured itchy feet but caused bellyache, Katsa giggled. Standing three rows ahead with his two sons, Ror whipped his head around to glare at her. “This is not a Sunderan street carnival,” he whispered with great and dignified reproach. And Po’s shoulders began to shake with laughter, and various voices whispered for Ror to shush but then realized whom they were shushing and issued an appalled stream of apology.

“Yes, all right,” Ror was left saying, repeatedly and with increasing volume. “Truly, it’s all right.” The interruption grew to something rather large and intrusive, causing a coronation attendant to stumble in his litany of the Monsean rulers across time. Bitterblue smiled softly at the attendant, and nodded for him to continue. After that, word passed through the crowd that the young queen was kindhearted, and not one to punish small mistakes.