Dissonant messages of consolation on her mother’s death and congratulations on her impending coronation arrived from the other monarchs in the realms, salted with opening bids in the marriage auction. Some offered younger sons who needed thrones to sit upon, others suggested the joining of the Fells to “kingdoms” as far away as Bruinswallow and We’enhaven.

Although Raisa ana’Marianna was not yet crowned, and rumor had it she was keeping a thief as a paramour, and that she likely had a hand in Queen Marianna’s death, most were willing to overlook that in consideration of the queendom’s mineral-rich holdings. They’d heard the northern queens were all witches anyway.

Everyone abroad seemed eager to help a young orphaned queen govern her queendom. Everyone at home seemed anxious to get her married off as soon as possible, as long as it was to their favorite.

The Klemath brothers reemerged as suitors amid a plethora of local hopefuls.

The foremost marriage candidate from the uplands was Reid Nightwalker. He spent more time in the capital than Raisa could ever remember, because of his assignment to Averill’s guard. The Demonai warrior launched a quiet courtship—bringing gifts of fur throws and leatherwork and clan-made jewelry, perfumes and aromatics from the markets. Clearly, he hoped to follow in Averill’s footsteps, and marry a queen.

Raisa and Nightwalker took long walks through the gardens sometimes, her Gray Wolves following a respectful distance behind. Sometimes they rode into the hills surrounding the Vale, but always with an escort. Nightwalker listened more than he spoke, and he didn’t push as hard as he had in the past to go beyond kisses and caresses.

I could do worse, Raisa thought, as a political match, anyway. She ticked off the advantages: Nightwalker was unquestionably committed to Fellsian interests. He wouldn’t be trying to make the Fells a minor province in a faraway realm. He would support her efforts to clean up the Dyrnnewater and keep the Wizard Council in check. A marriage to him would reinforce the ties between the clans and the Gray Wolf line.

And it would serve the Bayars right, after all of their plotting and scheming to marry Raisa off to Micah.

All in all, Nightwalker seemed like the safest choice, the same one her mother had made. On the personal side, at least he was closer to her age than Averill had been to her mother’s. He was lithe and graceful and handsome. Although it was unlikely he would remain faithful to her, that wouldn’t affect the line, at least.

Micah Bayar was another matter. With Raisa’s return, he abruptly left off his pursuit of Mellony. As a result, Mellony moped about, tearful and sullen much of the time, trying Raisa’s patience.

You’re just thirteen, Raisa thought. And a princess. Get used to it.