“I must see them alone,” he said. “Despite their guardians. I must know more about them before I can refuse them without insult—I do not want to hurt the girls, however much I am willing to risk angering their families.”

“Refusing them won’t hurt their feelings,” Kaelith said. “Neither one has shown that kind of interest in you, Sir King. But what about their guardians? They are so protective—or that’s what they call it.”

“A walk in the rose garden in the afternoon,” Kieri said. “With you Squires for chaperons. It is an insult to me if they think that dishonorable. As Elis’s guardians are more likely to be difficult, we will ask her first. Arian, please convey to Elis my earnest wish that she spend a short time walking with me in the rose garden this afternoon. Who’s with her now?”

“Binir, Sir King.”

“Do you have night duty tonight?”

“No, Sir King.”

“Then you also attend us, and we will see if I can learn more from her. Tomorrow, Kaelith, I will walk with Ganlin.”

At the appointed hour, Kieri waited in the rose garden, now a fragrant glowing haven of color. Elis appeared with Arian and Binir. Her expression was, as always, guarded and cool; she curtsied gracefully. “Sir King, I am honored that you wished to see me.”

“I am honored that you wish to be my queen,” Kieri said, and noted the instant withdrawal and stiffening. She was no more eager for a marriage than he was. “Let us walk.”

She moved with him down the path between the roses and other flowers, silent and pale.

“My mother planted this garden,” he said. “She loved roses above all flowers, I am told. Does your mother?”

“She did,” Elis said, in a choked voice. “She had some in a pot. She … died. My father threw them away.”

Kieri felt a jolt of sympathy. “My mother died, too,” he said. “But luckily, my father also loved roses and chose to remember her by preserving her garden.” He did not know if that was true, but it seemed reasonable.

“My father says they are weak southern flowers, not worth the trouble.”

“They do not seem weak to me,” Kieri said. “But I never grew them in the north.”

Her hands, clasped at her waist, relaxed a little. “If—if I were to—to marry—would I have to stay here?”

“Stay here?”

“Inside the walls.” Her voice rose a little. She stopped and resumed very quietly. “If—would it ever be possible to—to walk abroad. Even—ride?”

“Your guardians are concerned for your safety,” Kieri began, but Elis made an impatient gesture.

“At home,” she murmured, “I rode … in trousers like those the Squires wear. But—but then—”

“Come this way,” Kieri said, and led her farther along the path, where an artfully designed waterfall gave an excuse to face away from the palace windows and the falling water would cover their voices. “Now,” he said, when he was sure they would not be overheard or their faces seen. “Watch the water and listen to me. You are unhappy: the women attending you have seen that. They tell me you have the hands and walk of someone who is used to weapons, and that you and Ganlin are passing secret messages. No—do not turn around and do not jerk like a frightened horse at its lead.”