Mikeli shook his head with a rueful grin. “You are arguing with me, Brother. And here, in the privacy of my apartments, that’s legal. Just don’t upset our new Marshal-Judicar with it—or anyone else. You want the physical truth, but the most important truth is political. And we do not want it to become physical: we do not want a revolt against the Crown, bodies falling in the street, blood flowing. Enough of that right after the assassination attempt. The political truth is that the people do not want a magelord king, and we cannot afford to let them think the Crown’s bloodline is tainted with magery.” Camwyn started to speak, but Mikeli held up his hand. “You and I can talk about the details later, Cam, but I’m hungry and need my breakfast, and so do you. The armsmaster tells me you’re strengthening into your height—doing it on your own. I’m proud of you.”

“My shirts are getting tight around the chest,” Camwyn said. “The shoulders and arms as well.”

“I can see that. Tell me, Cam—what are you considering for your own future marriage?”

“Me?” Camwyn felt his blood run cold. “You’re not thinking of that Kostandanyan princess, are you? She’s older than I am. And anyway…”

“Time to start looking. Until I get an heir, you’re next in line. You’re doing better in your studies, I hear, and soon fathers will be trailing their eligible daughters past you.”

“I like Aris’s sisters,” Camwyn said. “They ride really well.”

Mikeli laughed aloud. “If you’re still thinking of girls in the context of how they ride or fence or draw a bow—”

“Kieri Phelan did.”

“That’s King Kieri of Lyonya to you, Cam, until it rolls off your tongue as easily.”

“Yes, sir king,” Camwyn said, and quickly filled his mouth with another ham roll. Mikeli feinted a punch at him, and he dodged.

“So … try to put your mind to more about girls than their athletic skills or your body will do it for you—very soon now, I think.”

“Did that happen to you?”

“Yes, of course. But I could not think of marriage until after my coronation. This—” He tapped the scroll still open on the table. “This must be answered one way or the other, and soon. And you, Brother, must not speak of it.”

“I won’t.” Camwyn finished that roll and scooped a large spoonful of stirred eggs onto his platter. “But don’t you think it would be better to marry someone from here?”