The librarian must have arranged them deliberately. Bifalt had not expected so much consideration from a woman he had never met.

“Do you see, husband?” whispered Estie. “There are many here that you do not know, but all of our people have come. You will not address an assembly of strangers.”

Bifalt would have felt more sure of himself if they were strangers. He could have faced them as if they were his foes. Instead, he trembled.

He found a brief comfort in the idea that at least his wife would not be able to hear him. But then he saw Commander Crayn standing nearby, ready to repeat whatever Bifalt said for his Queen.

Ah, hells.

Fortunately, he did not have to wait long. Soon two women filtered through the crowd, crossed the open center, and approached him. Both wore the robes of Magisters. One was small, almost tiny, with a lustrous sweep of black hair and an air of painful diffidence. The other, taller and more confident, had the knowing look of a woman who understood too much.

They both bowed. “King Bifalt,” said the taller, “I am Magister Oblique. Allow me to introduce Magister Beatrix Threnody, the librarian of the Last Repository.”

Her companion bowed again, hiding behind her hair.

“This gathering is for you, Majesty,” continued Oblique. “We are all eager to hear you. None of us have other duties. Say as much or as little as you wish. The Repository still stands because you have given it twenty years of your life. No one else could or would have done so much. We are simply grateful that you have consented to speak.”

Watching Crayn out of the corner of her eye, Estie nudged Bifalt. “Go now, beloved,” she breathed. “Trust yourself.”

As if he were on the way to a scaffold, King Bifalt walked out into the center of the hall. With his right hand, he held his left behind his back to keep his posture upright. Perhaps his audience would not notice the unsteadiness of his steps.

For a moment, he gazed around him. He could see too many faces. Along every wall of the refectory, men and women stood on chairs and tables to watch him. Near the back, three women had a table to themselves. He recognized them by their raiment, and by their sorrow, rather than by any other sign. They were Set Ungabwey’s daughters.

He had never felt so exposed. So small.

But this had to be done. Who was he, if he did not stand to meet every challenge?

Because he had seen those three women, he began with them.

“I hardly knew Master Set Ungabwey. I know that he sacrificed his living and almost his life to keep the Great God’s raiders away from Belleger. And I know more. Dying, he clung to life until he had destroyed many hundreds of the Great God’s men in Belleger’s Fist. He told me why. He did it for his daughters.”