“Not very often,” Arian said. “But enough to know what would happen when I did.”

“I’m surprised at Juris and Roly; I suppose they thought everyone would be busy with your visit.”

“Perhaps they learned something new while Rothlin was away and wanted to show him.”

“Still, they shouldn’t. They’re dukes’ sons; they should set an example.” If I have to, that meant. Arian reminded herself that this king was very young, had lost both his parents early, and only the year before had been nearly killed in his own palace. He went on in a different tone, “Though if I set them a better example, maybe they wouldn’t do things like that.”

“Do they often?”

“No. That’s why I was so surprised. We’re going to the grange-hall for the Bells now—it’s the other place you could practice. The Knight-Commander would need to know you were coming—it’s the training hall for the Knights of the Bells, and sometimes it’s full.”

“I understand,” Arian said.

The Knight-Commander was in his office when they arrived, writing in a ledger. “Sir king,” he said, rising and bowing. “Milady queen.” Juris Kostvan was a man of the king’s height with light blue eyes and honey-colored hair. He wore a long blue surcoat with the symbols of the Knights of the Bells embroidered in silver on the breast. He was new to this post, Arian knew; one of the king’s uncles had been the previous Knight-Commander, killed the same night as the previous Marshal-Judicar.

He gave Arian a tour: the armory with its racks of swords of different styles, the polearms, the battle-axes and maces, the crossbows hanging from hooks, the longbows on racks. “And now the grange-hall,” he said. This hall was much larger than the royal salle, with ranks of seats along one side. “We hold the trials of arms here—so we needed more space for witnesses.”

Arian started to ask a polite question, but as he moved forward, the light from his torch picked out a faint incised pattern on the floor, a pattern she recognized. It pulled at her less strongly than the one in Chaya, but she felt it nonetheless. “What is that?” she asked, bending to touch it. Her fingers tingled.

He looked embarrassed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Some knight-candidates have asked, but it must be accidental, some flaw in the stone. The surface is smooth, as you felt, and it’s all one block of stone—you can see the joints to the next.”