“Cock,” Lady Shenk said, looking at Grae as if the idea of sending him on this mission no longer seemed quite so absurd.

“Lady Shenk, you have added considerable wisdom to this discourse,” Barad said. “Even if the royal cock does not prove sufficiently enticing, Grae will still have the time and resources to uncover whatever secrets he can—including searching for The Song of Elenet—if it exists and if Corinn does possess it.”

“What if her highness accepts the king’s offer?” Lady Shenk asked.

Barad leaned back from the table, inhaling a long breath through his nose. “In that case, friends, we will have to keep a close eye on the young king. The lure of imperial power will be great. Just as the lure of Corinn Akaran’s bed will be. I trust, King Grae, that the honor of your ancient line and the righteousness of a free world will shield you against temptations to betray us?”

Grae aimed his blue eyes at Barad and held his gaze a long moment. “If I betray you, it will only be in that I cut the bitch’s throat before I deliver her. On all else, though, you may be sure that nothing can tempt me. I carry a hope that generations have been denied. It is bigger than you and bigger than I. I will be true to it.”

To this, Barad nodded, a gesture of finality that he would let stand for words. What he did not say was that he would arrange to ensure Grae’s loyalty by keeping Ganet close at hand. He would teach the prince things, mentor him, complete his knowledge of the Known World. Or so he would explain it. In truth, the young prince would be insurance. He would be safe and prospering as long as Grae stayed true. If the king somehow fell under Corinn’s power, however … well, they would face that if they had to.

C HAPTER
T WENTY

The morning Corinn was scheduled to meet with the Queen’s Council—just a few days since returning from her well-filling tour of Talay—she walked out into the sun of the upper gardens, Rhrenna at her side. Though the day was warm, she wore a long-sleeved dress of Teheen cotton, elaborately embroidered with overlapping animal figures that cavorted across her chest and back. She wore her hair in a tight bun, pierced by decorative combs that looked vaguely martial, as if she could pull them out and toss them as daggers if she grew angry.

She found Aaden swimming in the maze of canals and pools that cut through the gardens. His friend was with him. Devlyn was his name, the one Aaden seemed so fond of. It was unlikely that the pools had been intended for swimming, but Corinn had swum in them when she was young. It warmed her to see Aaden’s legs and arms sweeping out in the glass-clear water. He and Devlyn dove among gold, silver, and crimson fish, some as large as a man’s arm but all of them harmless. Up until this moment, she was still haunted by her nightly torment. She now banished the memory of the dream. It was a foolishness anyway. Aliver and Hanish were dead; Aaden was alive, and hers, and would be forever.