“Master-trader Chalvers, who is now on my Council, suggested digging out a harbor in that swamp and trading directly with the coastal cities and all the way south to Aarenis, as Pargun and Kostandan do. No more need to transport goods by land across Tsaia, paying their tolls. His best estimate of location included some of your land. If he is right, a town or even city there would bring income from the trade—and you, as part owner, would have money to improve your new lands.”

“I don’t know anything about making a harbor.”

“Nor do I, but Chalvers seems to. I am not asking an answer now, but only that you consider it.”

“If it brought a way to pay for a new house for that family the Pargunese burnt out … cattle … farm tools…”

“Those you will have from the Crown,” Kieri said. “But such a project as this could profit us both.”

Her back straightened. “I … I think it might be a good idea.”

“Good. I will talk more to Chalvers. It cannot be done in a day or ten hands of them—perhaps a year or two—but it seemed a good idea to me.” He reached out and laid his hand over hers. “Now … you can of course take Sier Tolmaric’s body to bury in your own burial ground, but we have a ground here where he could be laid with all honor, and when his bones are raised, you could take them instead.”

“You said he was bad to see. Maelith and Naren told me it’s better not to look sometimes. I thought it was my duty.” Her eyes filled with tears once more, but she did not break down this time.

“I think not in this case,” Kieri said.

“Does he look … normal … in the shroud?”

“No,” Kieri said. “And that, besides the honor due him, is another reason I offer the royal burying ground, to prevent distress to your people.”

“The children,” she said. “Do you think they would notice?”

“We could not lay him straight,” Kieri said, hoping such bluntness would not start another storm of emotion.

Her lips trembled, but she did not sob. “Then … to spare the children … lord king, you are so gracious … let him be laid in the ground here, and maybe Alyanya will mend his bones.”

“That is my hope as well,” Kieri said.

“I will dream badly,” she said, “if I do not at least see him in his shroud. Let it be as unnatural as you say, for me—I am a plain woman—it is better to know than to imagine.”

“Very well,” Kieri said. “Come with me, then.”

She stared a long time at the crooked bundle, lips pressed tight together. “He was a good man,” she said finally. “A good man to me, a good father to our children, a good Sier to our people.”

“He was indeed a good man,” Kieri said. “I honor him.”