“I thought a quiet evening for your first.” He gestured to the table.

“Thank you,” Arian said again, and sat in the chair he indicated.

For the rest of that meal, she was aware of the king’s youth and of his fascination with her. Though perfectly polite in speech, his expression revealed a boy half enchanted by the mere idea of meeting an elf-maid. Which she wasn’t.

“You know I am with child,” she said finally. He blinked, and a little color came to his cheeks.

“I—I can scarcely believe what I am told, that you are of age to bear children, let alone the king’s age.”

“A year older, in fact,” Arian said. “Or so I was told by my mother; we half-elves do not attend as much to actual age as you do.”

“And a wife and soon to be a mother,” he said, as if instructing himself to remember it. “When your king was a duke here, he seemed much older than you look.”

“Because he was reared among humans and away from the elvenhome,” Arian said. “My early life was very different from his. And, my lord, he now looks younger than he did.”

“With such a wife, of course he would.”

An attempt at gallantry but not welcome; Arian frowned. “Not so, my lord. It is the taig and elven magery combined that have restored his body.”

“I’m sorry.” The king flushed again. “I didn’t mean any rudeness—”

Arian relented. “I am not offended; do not fret yourself.”

“You sound like my aunt,” he said. “Now I can believe you are older than I.” He ate another pastry and let silence build briefly. “Do you always go armed?” the king asked suddenly. “You have your Squires to protect you.”

“I’m a Knight of Falk,” Arian said, touching her ruby. “And we, like you, have been attacked in our own palace. Are you ever far from your sword?” She had seen it hanging at his side.

“No, but—but you’re the queen.”

“And you’re a king, and so is Kieri. Perhaps it is not the custom here for noblewomen to bear weapons, but it is with us. Sier Davonin, who’s gone completely gray and is old enough to be my mother, trains with us as well.”

He left that topic for another, and another, and finally invited her to take a brief tour of the palace that evening. Rather than return to the stuffy suite, Arian agreed. A chance to see the royal salle and meet the Knight-Commander of the Bells would give her an opportunity to look for the elven patterns Kieri thought she might find.

Their path through the palace’s labyrinthine tangle of passages brought them at last to the Marshal-Judicar’s office.