At that, Lome widened his eyes, exaggerating his surprise. “A service, Brother? Please tell me to examine all of our ale for taste and purity. Some of our tavern-keepers offer disgusting brews. They cause sloth and diseases. I am sure of it.

“Or perhaps it is wine that troubles you. I can—”

“Lome!” snapped Bifalt. “Stop this. I do not enjoy your version of wit. I am Belleger’s King, and I am in earnest. Whatever else you think of me, believe that.”

“Oh, I know, Brother.” Lome smirked. “I know.” Still, he avoided Bifalt’s eyes. “You do not have a frivolous bone in your body. It is a curious lack. Perhaps it is like your lack of sorcery, an accident of birth. Or perhaps it resembles your refusal of your Queen-Consort’s bed, a sign that you take yourself too seriously. I—”

“Lome,” said the King again. Grimly, he swallowed an impulse to slap the younger Prince. He knew Lome’s game, Lome’s desire to provoke him. Instead of hitting his brother, he unfolded his arms to poke Lome’s chest with one rigid finger. “You. I need you. You must save the folk of the Hand.”

Prince Lome tried to continue. “I—” But now his surprise was not exaggerated. “You—?” He gulped several times. “Say that again. You what?”

“Lome.” Bifalt made an effort to soften his tone. “Brother. Listen to me. You do not listen when I fault your drinking. In your place, I would do the same. But hear me now.

“You do not believe the enemy is coming. Perhaps you are right. If you are wrong, the peril is extreme. If the enemy is coming, he will break through our defenses in the Bay of Lights. When he has landed his army, he will march on the city. And here we have no defenses. He will raze the Open Hand.

“When he comes, our people must be evacuated. If they are not, they will die.”

Gripping his courage in both hands, King Bifalt said, “I want you to command the evacuation.”

In his own way, Prince Jaspid was as surprised as Lome. But his reaction was different. The light in his eyes was a warrior’s eagerness. It resembled pride. “There, Lome,” he said softly. “You crave a worthy place in the affairs of the realm. Your King offers it to you. Claim it while you can.”

Shock kept Lome silent for a moment. Then he remembered the attitudes that had shaped his life. “Command?” he said unsteadily. “Nonsense, Brother. Who would obey me?”

“Who would not?” countered the King. “You are a prince of Belleger. A son of King Abbator. And I cannot ask Jaspid. I need him to fight. Also, he is not suited to command. It is not in his nature. You know that.

“You are my best choice.”