“I should like to see the sea,” she said.

Giddon’s eyes on her were incredulous.

“What? Is it such a strange thing to say?”

“It’s a strange thing for you to say.” He shook his head. He gathered their bread and fruit, then rose. “The Lienid fighter is filling your mind with romantic notions.” He went to his horse.

She ignored him so that she didn’t have to think about his own notions of romance or his suit or his jealousy. She rode hard across the flatlands, and imagined she rode across the sea.

IT WAS MORE difficult to ignore the reality of Giddon once they’d reached his castle. The walls were great, gray, and impressive. The servants flowed into the sunny courtyard to greet their lord and bow to him, and he called them by name and asked after the grain in the storehouses, the castle, the bridge that was being repaired. He was king here, and she could see that he was comfortable with this, and that his servants were happy to see him.

Giddon’s servants were always attentive to Katsa, whenever she was at his court. They approached her to ask if she needed anything; they lit a fire for her and brought her water so she could wash. When she walked past them in the hallways, they greeted her. She wasn’t treated this way anywhere else, not even in her own home. It occurred to her now that of course, Giddon had specifically ordered his servants to treat her like a lady—not to fear her, or if they did fear her, to pretend they didn’t. All of this Giddon had done for her. She realized his servants must look upon her as their future mistress, for if all of Randa’s court knew Giddon’s feelings, then surely Giddon’s servants had interpreted them as well.

She didn’t know how to be at Giddon’s court now, realizing they all expected something of her she would never give. She thought they’d be relieved to know she wouldn’t marry Giddon. They would exhale and smile, and prepare cheerfully for whatever kind, harmless lady was his second choice. But perhaps they only hoped for their lord what he hoped for himself.

Giddon’s hope bewildered her. She couldn’t fathom his foolishness, to fall in love with her, and she still didn’t entirely believe it to be true.

OLL GREW increasingly morose about Lord Ellis.

“It’s a cruel task the king has asked us to perform,” he said at dinner, in Giddon’s private dining room, where the three of them ate with a pair of servants to attend to them. “I can’t remember if he’s ever asked us to perform a task so cruel.”

“He has,” Giddon said, “and we’ve performed it. And you’ve never spoken like this before.”

“It just seems . . .” Oll broke off to stare absently at Giddon’s walls, covered with rich tapestries in red and gold. “It just seems that this is a task the Council wouldn’t condone. The Council would send someone to protect these daughters. From us.”