“Anything,” Mellony said quickly, then wilted under Lord Bayar’s glare. “If we possibly can, Corporal Byrne, we shall,” she amended.

“I would like to ask that my father’s ashes be buried near his liege queen, on Marianna Peak,” Amon said. At Mellony’s puzzled expression, he rushed on, “Not—not beside her or anything. Perhaps somewhere nearby, maybe at the foot of her tomb, somewhere he can continue to watch over her in death as he did in life.”

“Oh!” Mellony rose in a swish of silk, hands clasped in front of her, the tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, that’s so romantic. To think of Captain Byrne watching over his queen forever.”

“Don’t you Byrnes have a tomb in the Cathedral Temple?” Lord Bayar said, seemingly unmoved by romance. “Wouldn’t it be more proper to bury your father next to your mother?”

“Aye, Lord Bayar, it would seem so,” Amon said, looking the wizard in the eyes. “But my mother would understand. She knew when she married my father of the special bond between queen and captain. A bond that goes from life to death.”

Lord Bayar scowled. Amon guessed that the High Wizard instinctively wanted to deny the request, but could think of no good reason to do so. “Speaker Jemson,” Bayar said. “You will oversee Her Majesty’s memorial service. You are in charge of maintaining the old traditions. Doesn’t this seem…disrespectful?”

Jemson templed his fingers together and considered this, his expression solemn. “I am well aware of the bond between queens and captains,” he said finally, his face betraying nothing. “I would have no objection if that is what both families desire.”

“Lord Demonai?” Lord Bayar turned to Averill. “As consort to the queen, I would think you might question the propriety of—”

“I am not at all threatened by Captain Byrne’s ashes, Lord Bayar,” Averill said. “I have never had reason to question Captain Byrne’s loyalty nor the nature of his regard for the queen.” The look he leveled at Gavan Bayar could have frozen the Dyrnnewater.

Mellony smiled damply. “I think my mother, the queen, would be pleased to know that her captain sleeps nearby,” she said, sitting again.

Micah covered her hand with his own, leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She blushed and whispered something back.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Amon said, trying to ignore the display. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He much preferred the mean streets of Southbridge to the connivery at court. He’d gotten what he wanted, after all—a chance to survey the burial site ahead of time and an excuse to be in the thick of things at the memorial.