“It says worse of those who styled themselves as Priest-Kings,” Heklatis put in dryly. “Or those who claimed to rule in the name of the gods. The temptation is to say that what you want and what the gods want is one and the same, and it is difficult for ordinary folk to prove otherwise.”

“As always, your tongue delivers wisdom as well as stings, Healer,” Kaleth said, nodding. “To be brief, then: I will not deny the gods what they will of me.”

Marit placed a hand on his shoulder; she said nothing, but her expression spoke as loudly as any words. No more shall I.

“I,” said Lord Ya-tiren, “would not be accepted by Tians, nor, more importantly, by Nofret. And, most importantly of all, the First Lady of my house would strip my skin from my flesh with her words if I were to try so foolish a thing.”

That brought another bit of laughter from those who knew the lady in question. Sweet-natured as Lord Ya-tiren’s wife was, she also had a dangerous tongue when she was angered. And there was little doubt how she would react to the notion of her husband attempting to take a wife young enough to be his daughter, she who had never permitted a Second Wife to enter the household. “I am pleased and happy to handle administrative tasks,” he finished, “but I know where my abilities best lie.”

“And I,” said Lord Khumun, “am, and always will be, a soldier. Ask me strategy, tell me that tactics are needed, and you will have all you desire. But outside that—” He shrugged. “And even less am I, a soldier of the Altans, like to be accepted by Tians.”

“I do not know how much you know of the ways of our people and their rulers,” Lord Ya-tiren said to the Tian priests. “In our tradition, the male twins of royal blood who marry the female twins of royal blood can be made Kings. And unless I am very much mistaken, in the Tian tradition, the man of the appropriate bloodline who marries the royal daughter can be made King. Is this correct?”

Baket-ke-aput nodded. “Entirely. And—” he added, with a lifted brow, “—there is a saying among our people that the man who least wishes to be King, is the man who is like to be the best suited. Still—”

“Then by all qualifications, Ari is the only choice for all of us,” Kaleth replied, “since he is Tian and will be accepted by Tians and I will not divorce my Marit to free her for some other husband.” Marit still had her hand on Kaleth’s shoulder, and he covered it with one of his own. “My beloved, who has the secrets of her sister’s heart poured daily into her ear, tells me that Nofret does not find Ari distasteful.”

“Ah, but Ari is a commoner,” Ari objected—