“Not our problem for now,” Kieri said. He picked up his sword and belt. “Would you like any help before I go down to practice?”

“No, thank you. In another two tendays, though, I may need you and two Squires to get me out of bed. Go on, now. I’d rather not have anyone watching this.” She grinned at him, and Kieri bowed, then left the room.

All during practice he considered who to question first on the problem of the remaining patterns. How many were there? One in every bedroom? He met the steward on his way back from practice.

“How did you determine there were none of those elven patterns in the bedrooms?”

“The elven lady, sir king. She asked to come upstairs to see if the patterns were upstairs as well as down. Of course I said yes, and she told me that none had been put upstairs. I asked if she was sure, and she said yes.” He looked worried. “Was that all right? Did she … um … steal anything?”

“No,” Kieri said. “She lied. There was a pattern in my chamber.”

“Sir king! I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I don’t blame you,” Kieri said. “You could not know. She was an elf; she could have laid a glamour on you—and anyway, why would you suspect her?”

“I didn’t … I really thought—”

“Of course. But we will have to find how many there are—”

“Did something happen?”

“An elf visited. Nothing happened but that. I’ll talk to Amrothlin.” He would more than talk to Amrothlin; he would demand answers, but that was not the steward’s worry.

He was finishing a leisurely breakfast—Arian had sent word she planned to breakfast upstairs—when Amrothlin appeared, looking flustered, and followed by last night’s visitor, still wearing a crown but not clothed in light. Kieri sat back, eyeing the pair with no great favor.

Before he could speak, Amrothlin apologized. “I did not know, sir king—Merithllyn offered to check the upstairs as I was searching for patterns down here—”

“And you did not think of this when I told you what happened in the place my mother died?”

“No, I swear it. It had passed from my mind.”

“Um.” Kieri looked at the other elf, wondering what the proper term of address was for a “lord of the western forest” who wore a crown.

The elf bowed. “Lord king, I have known Amrothlin for longer than your life, from before your mother was born. I believe him to be telling what he knows.”

Which was not the same as the truth, necessarily. Kieri broke open a roll and spread jam on it.

“There are things you must know,” the visitor said. “Things Lady Arian must know.”

“I am not,” Kieri said, around a mouthful of jam and bread, “going to risk our children to travel or attempt great mageries I do not know how to control.”