That he could do, having thought about them since Duke Verrakai first brought them. “Possession of them must have affected Verrakai policy,” he said. “If only in keeping them secret so long. We do not have all the records of Tsaia during the Girdish war, but I would guess—”

“Guessing is not history, Prince.”

“I know that, sir, but it’s all we have. The Verrakaien had these things and might well have thought to be kings when the old king fell in the war—only they weren’t allowed. They would resent that; anyone would. They kept the things secret and used blood magery to bind them—”

“And no blood magery binds them now—so why are they bound?” asked the steward, coming nearer.

“They bound themselves,” Camwyn said. “At least that’s what I heard—” And his sources, he knew, would be dismissed by his tutor as mere gossip.

“So it seems,” the steward said. “But why? Was it part of a Verrakai plot to move their influence here, into the heart of the realm?”

“I doubt it,” Camwyn said before his tutor could get a word in. “If we stipulate—” A word his tutors used often; he was proud of himself for using it now. “—that the former Verrakaien were hostile to the Crown, they were doing their best to keep the regalia and knowledge of it secret. I think the king thinks that keeping it secret was treasonous and handing it over was not.”

“True,” his tutor said. “But that does not explain how the box sealed itself. Or why.”

“To keep anyone but Duke Verrakai from opening it,” Camwyn said. “And—there’s that necklace people talk about, the one stolen from Fin Panir. If the magicks in this box—” He patted it and felt his hand tingle. Oh, please, don’t let it light up! He rushed on. “If the magicks in this box somehow know that the necklace was stolen—if the regalia have a will and want to be together—then it might fear having pieces stolen here.”

“But it’s in the treasury,” the steward said. “It’s safe here.”

“The Marshal-General thought the necklace was safe in the treasury in Fin Panir,” Camwyn said.

Silence for a moment; they all looked at him as if they could see his thoughts. He hoped they couldn’t.

“I did wonder if it was Duke Verrakai’s magery,” the steward said. “That she did not trust me—or the king—and wanted it to open only in her presence. But she said it talked to her—I heard her say so.”

Camwyn held himself still with an effort. If it talked to her, and to Mikeli, and to him … that had to be its own magery somehow. “If the other Verrakai held it bound in blood magery—then they weren’t listening to it.”

“That doesn’t necessarily follow,” his tutor said. “Maybe they forced it to talk.”