On the fifth day, he decided that he was ready. Not to make a speech—hells, no!—but to pretend that he could for her sake.

As he informed her with Crayn’s help that he would attempt to satisfy the librarian, her delight brought tears to her eyes. She kissed him again, a soft, lingering kiss that left him light-headed. Then she hurried away to apprise Magister Threnody.

A few hours later, the Queen returned to escort her husband to the gathering of the Repository.

During the interval, the excitement of her kiss had faded. A darker mood took its place. A speech? Him? What could he possibly say that would vindicate the sacrifices that Belleger and Amika had made, the suffering that their people had endured, the lives that both realms had lost? For the first time since the war’s end, Estie’s smile did not lift his heart.

With a glance, she took in his drab raiment, but she did not comment on it. Taking his arm, she held him tightly. As she steered him to the door, she said, “I know that this does not please you, beloved. Whatever you say, I am yours.”

That assurance failed to steady him, but it helped him walk.

After some distance, he began to recognize her destination. It was etched in his memory despite the intervening years. He had first encountered Commander Forguile there. Magister Rummage had almost broken his wrists. Elgart had faced him in mortal combat.

The refectory of the Last Repository.

It was a vast hall cut deep into the keep’s stone. Ordinarily, it held trestle-tables and chairs enough to accommodate several hundred hungry people at any time of the day or night. Now, as on the occasion of Bifalt’s confrontation with Elgart—the moment which had transformed Bifalt into a man he hardly knew—the tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls, making room for a multitude.

Apart from a small clear space in its center, the place was full.

The sight cost Bifalt a moment of balance. His vision swam. These were the people on whom the librarian depended most, these hundreds? And they expected him to—what? Explain himself? Shame them for the former librarian’s dishonesty and arrogance? Without Estie’s clasp on his arm, he might have stumbled.

But then he began to make out familiar faces. In fact, most of the people around the inner ring of the clear space, the people who would stand nearest to him, were men and women he knew. General Klamath was there, enjoying his King’s discomfiture. Holding Magister Astride’s hand, Elgart grinned like a madman. Prince Jaspid stood directly behind a most holy devotee of Spirit with his arms wrapped around her. If she objected, she showed her disapproval by leaning her head on his shoulder. Captain Rowt and a number of the riflemen acknowledged King Bifalt’s arrival with their best bows. The Amikans among them performed their florid salutes. Sub-Commander Hellick supported himself on a crutch. Magister Trench applauded until he noticed that no one joined him. Magister Brighten bared her teeth like a woman who would have preferred to be surrounded by men and women she could kill.