The lanterns in the tower had already been lit. It was, Iome had to admit, an ugly tower. A huge square block, six stories tall, with nothing in the way of adornment but the granite statues of past kings that circled its base. The statues themselves were enormous things, each sixteen feet tall. Along the gutters atop the tower were carved minstrels and dancing gargoyles, but the figures were so small that one could not see them well from the ground.

Iome wanted to run, to dart into an alley and try to hide behind one of the cows that had bedded there for the night. Her heart hammered so badly.

When she crossed the threshold into the King’s Keep, she nearly fainted. Her father held her hand, helped her keep standing. Iome wanted to vomit, but found herself following her father up the broad staircases, five stories, until they reached the King’s chambers.

Raj Ahten led them through the audience room, into the huge throne room. The King’s and Queen’s thrones were made of lacquered wood, with cushions covered in scarlet silk. Gold filigree adorned the leaves carved into the thrones’ arms and feet, and adorned the headboards. They were unimposing ornaments. Sylvarresta had better thrones stored in the attic. But the room itself was enormous, with two sets of full-length oriel windows that looked north, south, and west over the kingdom. Two lanterns burned at each side of the throne, and a small fire danced in the huge hearth.

The Wolf Lord took a seat on the King’s throne, seeming comfortable in his armor.

He nodded at King Sylvarresta. “I trust my cousin Venetta is well? Go and fetch her. Take a moment to freshen up. We will hold audience when you are more comfortable.” He waved at Sylvarresta’s armor, an order for him to remove it.

King Sylvarresta nodded, not a sign of acknowledgment, more a bending of the neck in submission, then went to the royal apartments. Iome was so frightened, she followed him rather than go to her own room.

Neither the King’s Days nor Iome’s followed. The Days chronicled every public movement of their lords, but even they did not dare defile the sanctity of the Runelords’ bedchamber.

Instead, Raj Ahten’s Days held a convocation with the Days of the royal family in an ancient alcove outside the bedchamber, where guards and servants often waited for their lord. There, the Days stood speaking briefly in code. It was often thus when Days from opposing kingdoms met. Iome understood none of their code, and simply closed the bedroom door on their chatter.

In the King’s bedchamber, Queen Venetta Sylvarresta sat in a chair, dressed in her finest robes and regalia, staring out the windows to the south. Her back was to the door. She’d been painting her nails with a clear lacquer.