Micum chuckled. “Consider it done.”

Micum set off just before midday and gave his horse a good gallop back to Deep Harbor. As beautiful as Mirror Moon was, he was more unsettled by the previous night’s spirit visitation in the hallway than he cared to admit. Finding out how the wind was blowing in a new place was much more to his taste, and he was looking forward to it.

The road branched as he neared the town and he decided to come in from the north, passing by the governor’s mansion as he made his way to the wealthy district that bordered that estate. Quite a number of fine houses here were shuttered, the gardens already sprouting weeds. Nonetheless, there were carriages and riders about, and not a few of them looked to be Plenimaran, judging by the preponderance of dark hair and eyes, not to mention some of the unfriendly looks he was getting.

It was a bit of a surprise when a dandy on a fine black-and-white mare reined in to ride beside him.

“Good morning, sir. You arrived with the princess’s entourage yesterday, didn’t you?” He looked to have Plenimaran blood, but his accent was pure island.

“Word certainly gets around fast here,” Micum replied, and extended a hand. “Micum Cavish of Watermead.”

The man shook with him. “Azrin of Kouros.” He gave Micum a wry look. “Formerly a lord myself, as it happens, but alas, times change.”

“Yet you’re still here.”

“I was born here. My grandfather came over from Benshâl years back, but I’ve never been. Don’t let my appearance fool you; I’m as island as they come.”

“So you had no problem taking the oath?”

Azrin shrugged. “Queen or Overlord, it’s all the same to me, so long as I get to keep my farm. This is my home.”

“Home is home,” Micum agreed. “Say, if you can point me to a good tavern, I’d be happy to stand you a meal.”

“My pleasure! The Fox is just two streets over.”

The Fox turned out to be a fine establishment, with superb mussels boiled in ale and wild herbs. Azrin was well known here, and a lively dining companion. They talked horses, which Azrin’s family had traded for generations.

“I know the Mirror Moon herd well,” he told Micum. “Please tell the new baron that if he wants to sell off his stock, I’d be happy to assist.”

Micum chuckled. “I don’t think he’ll be parting with any for the moment, and there are two barons: Seregil and Alec.”

“Two? Are they brothers?”

“No.”

Azrin raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I see. Such things are common in Skala, I suppose. Which one is the ’faie?”

Micum grinned and pretended to not notice the man’s clear disapproval on both counts. “That would be Baron Seregil. Do you think they’ll be unwelcome here?”

“It’s none of my business. Are you their friend?”

Micum shrugged. “I met them on the ship.”

“And do you approve of such—relationships?”