“I do not know,” Arian said. Her expression was thoughtful but remote. “That was half my lifetime ago, and he never asked. I doubt he would have; he had told me before that his family wanted him to marry in the old human lines, not half-elven. We celebrated our knighthood as many did—the king knows—” She looked at Kieri, who nodded.

“And that is all?” the Lady asked, with a glance at Arian’s father.

“Enough,” Kieri said. “I do not see that these questions concern you, if I do not choose to ask them.”

The Lady raised her brows. “She knows you had a wife; surely you should know if she had … liaisons.”

“That is between her and me. And if she did, what matter?”

“If you truly cannot see what the matter is, then you do need my guidance and my questions,” the Lady said.

“What I see is that you are using her to punish her father,” Kieri said. “You are willing to risk the future of the realm to satisfy an old quarrel.”

“You are wrong,” the Lady said. “But you are not in a mood for reason. Will you at least delay until your blood cools?” Kieri felt another nudge from her glamour but resisted it.

“I have said I will leave,” Arian said. “I meant it.” She pulled her hand from Kieri’s. “Sir King, you know the realm must come first. I will not be the cause of a quarrel that harms it. I cannot be. And it will be harder later.” She looked at the Lady. “My Lady, you are wrong: I did not trap your grandson, and I am not like my father. It is indeed true love I bear for him. If you come to realize that, before he finds another, I am sure your taig-sense will find me.”

Kieri reached for her, but she evaded him. “Arian, please—”

“No. War may be brewing with Pargun—we know that. The taig is in peril from without; it must not be in peril from within as well. Fix your mind on your kingdom, Kieri …” Her voice trembled on his name, the first time she had said it to him. “We have both been alone a long time; we are not children who must have their pleasures now or howl for them.” With that she turned on her heel and ran down the hill’s slope, vanishing into the path that led back to the palace.

“She is more a queen than you,” Kieri said to the Lady. He could scarce keep his voice steady for the pain that pierced him like a blade, the anger below it that threatened to break loose again. “She thought first of the realm.” He turned and ran down the hill, anger lending him speed. Where the other Squires waited, he ran past them without a word. He heard their voices, their footsteps, but ignored them.

When he reached the palace, Arian was nowhere to be found. Winded, Kieri checked the stables, in case she had taken a mount, and found her Squire’s tabard hung neatly on the door of an empty stall. No other trace remained of her; she had taken her own mount and the travel pack all the Squires kept ready.