The jest teased out a hint of that smile. “Had you not guessed before? I am a callow creature who loves nothing more than to see the shine of my wings.”

“Who did it?” she asked, thinking of the good-looking and well-dressed granddaughter, Worvua, who had the calm confidence of a highborn scion, one who knew the way of the world and wasn’t desperate to ingratiate herself. That quality could be very attractive to someone who tired of false praise and clumsy attempts to climb into his bed. Maybe Worvua was now eligible to become a palace consort.

The haunt’s smile slid headlong into rascal, or maybe smugness. A smug rascal. “Can it be I hear a pinch of jealousy in your tone?”

Is that what this tight feeling in her chest was? By the High Heavens, this would not do!

Elen gave a sniff of disdain. “It is no business of a deputy courier who braids a prince’s exalted hair.”

“Indeed, it is not.” His gaze flashed to her, then back to the road and the horses. “But I’ll tell you anyway. It was the lord herself, Genia. She has a deft hand with braids, I’ll tell you that. It appears she is the one who arranged for Hemerlin to be assigned to the prince’s household, back when Gevulin was a child. Rather than being a menial assigned to the palace and thus belonging to the emperor, Hemerlin’s devotion was therefore transferred solely to the child.”

“That’s quite a gift. How did that come about?”

“In an agreement with the prince’s mother, the Elegant Consort.”

“Genia and the Elegant Consort are kin?”

“Yes, as it turns out, they are. By marriage, not by blood. I had to figure out the truth between Genia’s words, because the prince clearly knows the whole. The prince is famous in the palace for his devotion to his mother, who is the architect of his rise.”

“How does Lord Genia fit into this?”

“From what hints I caught, Genia and the Elegant Consort’s mother—”

“Gevulin’s grandmother?”

“Yes. They were intimate friends in their youth. Lovers, most likely. Genia stands in some measure as a nest guardian.”

“Like a great-aunt, only without the blood connection.”

“The relationship explains Pelis Manor’s allegiance to Gevulin.”

“She wasn’t at all suspicious of you? If she knows the prince so well?”

“I asked her more questions than she asked me. The price of hallow-wood. How the harvest has been. The health of her people. How she likes living in Woodfall Province. She was eager to be listened to.”

“People usually are.”

“When she did get around to asking me questions, I said I had a headache.”

Elen laughed. “This journey has been quite a headache for the prince.”

“For the prince, perhaps,” he murmured, eyes on the road, “but not for me.”