“It is not a royal command,” the messenger said, when she looked up. “The prince realizes that you have been estranged from your family these many years. But it is a heartfelt request.”

“He will need an answer quickly,” Dorrin said. “It must be settled …”

“He is sorry to inconvenience you …” the messenger said.

Dorrin almost laughed. Inconvenience? If she accepted, governing Verrakai would be far more than an inconvenience. “My situation here must be settled before I give my answer,” she said. “I must speak to the king, and arrange for someone to command the troops I brought with me.”

“Then you accept?”

This weight she had never sought, never wanted, never dreamed of, settled on her shoulders. “I will give you my answer when I have spoken to the king, who is still my liege.”

But he had read her real answer in her eyes, for now he was smiling. “Of course, my … Captain.”

“And now,” Dorrin said, ringing for servants, “you must take refreshment, and rest. Whatever my answer, you have a long, cold ride ahead of you.”

The king was studying rows of figures and making notes as she came into the small dining hall.

“Sir King,” Dorrin said. He looked up and smiled.

“What, Captain?” His expression sobered. “You’re upset … the troops?”

“A messenger from Tsaia, from the prince—for me.”

“He wants the cohort back,” Kieri said. “He wrote me.”

Dorrin shook her head. “Not that—he wants me to take over Verrakai. As the only—as he puts it—honorable Verrakai of my generation.” She laid the scroll before him, and watched as he unrolled it.

“That’s … interesting,” he said as he read.

“No, Sir King, that’s terrifying. And worse, I feel a pull …”

“You’d be good, Dorrin,” he said, looking up. “You are the best Verrakai; you could change the family history.”

“But you know my story, my lord. The family hates me, and I left …” He gestured to a chair and she sat, too tense to relax into it.

“Dorrin. Captain. Change comes. I must give up my land and my Company, abandon the home and life I made for myself, the people I swore to protect and care for, to assume the responsibility for these people, this place … to assume the responsibility of a king. Even the Company will not be the same—”

“I know.” Tears stung her eyes. The Company without Kieri Phelan—she had already contemplated that, with misery. Jandelir Arcolin was a fine man, a good commander, but he was not Kieri Phelan.

“Then perhaps it is time for you, too, to take a bold leap.”

“I understand that things will never be as they were. But this—this is different.”

“And yet you feel a pull. At some level, Dorrin, you want it. You have always wanted to redeem your family.”

She sighed. “Yes. But I cannot imagine how it can be successful. How to go about it.”

He laughed, startling her. “Oh, Dorrin—do you not remember when we were building the stronghold in the north? No one thought that would be successful. An upstart no-name granted land and title? No family fortune? And yet you joined me, and now—barring the fact that I can no longer be there—it is a thriving land. You have more experience than I had then.”