Han had never realized that queens worked so hard—at least this one did. Maybe the old queen hadn’t done much of anything in the past year, or maybe it just seemed that way. Raisa toured the city’s fortifications, reviewed the Highlander Army, and attended services in temples all over the Fells. She sat through meeting after meeting—with her stewards, with the Queen’s Council, with the committees laying plans for the coronation. Some meetings were routine, while others had to do with projects Raisa herself was pushing. It wasn’t easy. Her advisers couldn’t agree that water was wet and the sky was blue. Also, there didn’t seem to be any money.

As Raisa’s bodyguard, Han attended nearly all of her meetings. He hoped to learn something useful—who was who and what was what. But it wore him out—it was all talk, talk, talk, and nothing much accomplished. He stood through most, vibrating like a plucked string, impatient at wasting so much time.

It struck him how alone Raisa was. There seemed to be few people at court the queen could trust. Even her father, Averill, had a clan agenda that might not fit with her own. She was always onstage, whether at meals or at a recital, or in conference with her economic advisers.

At one afternoon meeting with the Queen’s Council, she managed to get into a row with just about everyone.

They were seated around the table in her privy chamber (which Han thought was an amusing name, given what was often slung around). As was his custom, Han stood propped against the wall, looking as ruthless as possible.

“General Klemath,” Raisa said, lifting her chin in that way she had when she meant to do battle, “as the contracts with the mercenary forces come due for renewal, I want you to dismiss the foreign brigades and send them home.”

“Send them home, Your Highness?” Klemath stared at her in astonishment. “These are dangerous times, my dear. I know the brigades are expensive, but surely there are other places to cut costs.” He ticked off each point on his thick fingers. “There is conflict with the Waterwalkers on the western border. Arden is a threat to the south. The army might be needed to help the guard if we have a domestic rebellion.” He looked up at the ceiling, making a point of ignoring Lord Averill. “There is unrest among the upland clans. They are always unpredictable. Now is not the time to be frugal with the army.”