No summons had arrived. He was hoping this meant his visit had not been noticed or speculated upon. When he thought of the consequences to his people if such a scandal became known, he shivered with dread. Yet whenever he wasn’t worrying he found himself planning ways to visit her secretly when she returned.

If she wants me to. She might regard me as a night’s entertainment. A lover she’ll cast off when she realizes how inconvenient he will be to keep around. If only I could find out what she wants.

There was a way, but it was dangerous. He could dream link with her.

Don’t be an idiot. If she reports you they’ll have you stoned.

She won’t tell anyone.

“Leiard?”

He jumped and looked up, surprised to find Jayim standing in front of him. The garden was now lit by the faint light of dawn. He had been so lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed.

The boy yawned as he took the seat opposite Leiard. He had wrapped himself in a blanket. Winter is coming, Leiard thought. I should teach him ways to keep himself warm.

“Will we practice mind-linking again?” Jayim asked.

Leiard considered the boy. They hadn’t linked since the day Jayim had observed Leiard’s attraction to Auraya. He had been so disturbed by that, he had put off further lessons in the skill.

Now the thought of linking with his student filled him with fear. If he did, Jayim was bound to learn of Leiard’s night with Auraya. He would see, too, Leiard’s hopes to continue the affair. If Jayim knew that, there would be two people in Jarime from whom the White could read Leiard’s secret.

“No,” Leiard replied. “The air is chill this morning. I will explain the ways the body is affected by cold, and teach you how to counter it.”

High Priest Ikaro paused outside King Berro’s audience chamber. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Attendants, advisers and representatives of the greater trades stood about the throne. The seat was empty, however. The king was standing before an enormous urn.

It was decorated in the new style, Ikaro noted. A black coating covered the urn, then designs and figures had been scratched out of it, revealing the white clay beneath. The king glanced at Ikaro, then beckoned.

“Do you like it, High Priest Ikaro? It is of myself naming Cimro as my heir.”

“I do indeed,” Ikaro replied, moving to the king’s side. “There is grace and skill in these lines, and the detail is exquisite. You do me a great honor, your majesty.”

The king frowned. “By showing this to you? I intend to place it here. You will see it each time you enter this chamber.”

“Yet I will not have an opportunity to stand and admire it, your majesty. My attention will always be on more important matters.”