The Count of Andressat found the journey to Vérella, escorted by the Phelani cohort, safe enough but unpleasant: why would anyone choose to live so far north? Cold, wet, sunless country … but then the sky cleared on the last day, revealing the city ahead as if cut in crystal. At noon, they were close enough to hear the bells peal. Jeddrin felt his heart lift.

Duke Verrakai’s letter gave him instant entrance to the palace, where he was assigned a comfortable guest room.

“The king will see you before dinner,” a palace servant told him. The man was richly dressed, Andressat saw, an upper servant, surely, unless he was a nobleman. He wished he’d paid enough attention over the years to learn the colors and symbols of rank in this kingdom. In the interval he was offered a bath and refreshment, and by the time the summons came, he felt much better.

The king surprised him: so young a face, and yet so firm, and yet at the same time so welcoming. A young man of breeding, Andressat would have said, even without the crown he wore and the chain of office. Two armed guards stood either side of the king’s chair. Andressat bowed low; the king waved him to a chair and invited him to sit.

“Duke Verrakai has written some of what you told her, but I would like to hear it all from you,” the king said. “If it takes long enough, we can dine here, in my study, or break until after dinner. I normally dine with a few friends and my younger brother.”

“As you wish, Sir King,” Andressat said. He began as he had with the others, explaining about the family archives, about Alured’s ambitions, about the rumors.

“What rank did your own family have in Old Aare?” the king asked. “Is there a chance you yourself are the heir?”

“No, Sir King.” It was easier to admit to this young man, whom he had never insulted. “Though I long thought my family’s descent came straight from Aarean nobility, in truth many lesser titles were created after the flight from Aare, and mine is one of those.”

“It is what men do that matters,” the king said. “By all accounts—what I have heard from Duke Phelan, who is now a king himself—you have governed well and bravely, as did your fathers before you. I merely asked to ascertain if you had a counterclaim to Alured’s. As far as I am concerned, you are equal to any count of my realm.”

Andressat blinked back the stinging in his eyes. The king could not realize his words were both reassurance and rebuke … for he himself had long considered northern counts as meaningless. He went on with his assessment of Alured’s menace; the king asked pertinent questions about Alured’s resources and the likelihood of war in the south spilling into the north.

“He believes there is an ancient crown in the north,” Andressat said. “And he wants it.”