Kieri raised his brows. “More illustrious than the ancient title of Fall?”

“Well, there is one.” The envoy gave him a meaningful look. Kieri almost laughed.

“I’m afraid Sofi and I have had words too often,” he said instead. “And besides, isn’t the girl already in the south? I could hardly leave Lyonya to go pluck her out of the Duke of Fall’s castle before the wedding.”

“We have others,” the envoy said, a bit sulkily.

“It is too early for me to think of marriage,” Kieri said.

“It is never too early to secure the succession,” the envoy said. Kieri remembered that the Kostandanyan princes were usually married off before they reached majority.

“I’m sorry,” Kieri said, nodding across the room as if in answer to someone. “But I must see my seneschal—”

Out of the room, in the passage, it was quieter and cooler. Kieri went on, flanked by his Squires, to the small parlor he’d had readied in case he needed it. Here, where he expected solitude, he found the Lady of the Ladysforest, his elven grandmother. As at their first meeting, he was at first struck dumb by her beauty and power; she appeared no older than a maid of twenty but carried with her the silvery radiance of the elvenhome kingdom, a glow that expressed her power. She smiled.

“If you need solitude, Kieri, I will go, but I was hoping to talk to you about the Pargunese lady.”

“As long as you do not talk to me about marriage, I am content,” Kieri said. “I just escaped from the Kostandanyan envoy, who would like me to marry one of Sofi Ganarrion’s daughters.”

“Isn’t he—”

“A mercenary commander in Aarenis who claims some connection to that throne, yes.” Kieri sank into one of the chairs. “I know Sofi. I would not marry one of his get for all the gold in the mountains.”

“Then let us speak of the lady of Pargun,” his grandmother said. “A subtle woman, for a human; more layers than an onion. What did you think of her?”

“The same,” Kieri said. “She spoke to me of peace between our realms, and laid fault on both sides for past conflicts.”

“So also would we, if we were asked,” the Lady said. “Though I suspect we would apportion it differently than she. Was it then an offer of truce or an end to war?”

“Not really,” Kieri said. He glanced at the table where he had arranged refreshments; before he or a Squire could move, the Lady poured water into two goblets and brought them to hand—all without moving. Kieri repressed the shiver he felt. He had seen her use greater magicks, but this homely familiarity chilled him. “We agreed that war is unpleasant, that peace is preferable—but that is all. I find it hard to trust such statements from a Pargunese.” He took a swallow of water.

“She may find it hard to trust them from you,” the Lady said. “I think it is a good thing that the word was so much as mentioned between you. If this enmity could end—do you truly want it to end, Grandson?”