In a room lit by oil lamps, a cluster of men stood at one side, near windows that let in a cool breeze. Most were young; the prince and his companions, Dorrin thought. The older man in rose and white would be one of the prince’s uncles; the other older man wore Marshal’s blue.

“My lord prince, Duke Dorrin Verrakai,” the officer said. Dorrin went down on one knee. She could feel the tension in the room.

The prince moved from the others and came to her, his expression guarded. “Duke Verrakai, do you come to tell me all your renegade family are safely confined?”

“No, my lord prince. I come at your request to pledge fealty and see you crowned rightful king of Tsaia.”

“I have heard, from sources I do not fully trust, of a secret crown and secret realm.”

Dorrin said, “My lord prince, there are matters we must discuss, but by your leave I would rather bring proof than words.”

“You name me rightful king. Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” Dorrin said. “With all my heart.”

He put out a hand. “Rise, then, lord Duke, and be welcome here until such time as you choose another allegiance or play me false.”

Dorrin took his hand and stood. “I intend neither,” she said.

“The gods do not always cooperate with human intentions,” the prince said. “Come, I will introduce you.”

“My lord prince,” the guard-captain said. “The duke’s arms?”

The prince looked at Dorrin. “You would have known the paladin Paksenarrion—”

“Yes, lord prince.”

“Where is she now, do you know?”

“Watching over Verrakai lands, my lord. She came from Chaya and urged me to accept your invitation, which I had been loath to do because I had not yet captured all you commanded. She said she would watch it for me, and indeed there is none I trust more.”

“Well then, I will trust you to bear arms in my presence the same as any other noble of your rank.” He nodded at the guard captain. “Return the duke’s arms, and inform the palace guard that the Duke is as privileged in that regard as any other peer.”

“At once, my lord,” the guard-captain said. He gestured to the soldier who carried Dorrin’s belt and sword. “If the prince will excuse me now—”

“Of course,” the prince said. He smiled at Dorrin. “And now, let me introduce you—”

Dorrin recognized the colors, and had seen some of the nobles on the streets of Vérella; she had never met them. The older man, Duke Sonder Mahieran, the prince’s uncle. High Marshal Seklis. Kirgan Marrakai, Kirgan Valthan Serrostin and a younger brother Rolyan, Kirgan Konhalt. All young men of breeding, near or just over majority, heirs of noble fathers. Dorrin bowed to each, and each bowed in return, though without real warmth.

“You arrived today, I think,” the prince said.

“Indeed, my lord. It will seem strange to all of you, but—having been estranged from my family for so long—I had never been to their residence here, and finding it—and making it safe to inhabit even in part—took up the rest of the day.”