Princess Astrid’s turn to give her counterpart a slight frown.

  “First the truth,” Princess Xenia said. “When I was young I tried to study magic with the hopes of becoming a wizard.” She sighed deeply. “Alas, I had not your grace’s gift for it. Though I do retain a few modest skills.”

  With one hand raised and a look of intense concentration, she managed to make her dessert fork wobble on the table for a moment, then rise hesitantly into the air a few inches, before falling back to the table.

  A bead of perspiration ran down the side of Princess Xenia’s face, and she was breathing hard, as though she’d run up a dozen flights of stairs.

  “Hardly much of a secret,” Princess Astrid said, arching an eyebrow. “Your father sent far and wide for tutors for you.”

  “Yes,” Princess Xenia said, getting her wind back. “But his grace wasn’t likely to know. And it’s hardly the sort of thing one admits to an accomplished wizard such as his grace.”

  Aefric would never have said so, but he knew Xenia for a failed apprentice the moment he met her. Training at magic leaves its mark upon a person.

  Which was part of what frustrated him about certain eldrani “spells” like the Cat’s Eyes. They didn’t feel like magic, but what else could they have been?

  Maev knew the Cat’s Eyes — the only human he’d ever met who did — but she carried no sense of magic-user about her…

  “Please,” Princess Astrid said dismissively, and pulling Aefric’s attention back to the conversation. “You only did your little party trick as an excuse for heavy breathing in that—”

  “And what of your secret?” Princess Xenia asked. “From the moment his grace mentioned the name Ser Grud, it was quite obvious that you knew the knight. Really, you must learn to school your reactions if you would pretend to hide such information.”

  Now that was interesting, and a truth Princess Xenia might not have realized she was revealing. Because until that moment, Aefric had considered her the more visibly responsive of the two princesses.

  But if she considered Princess Astrid’s momentary flinch a large reveal, what did that say about her own apparent reactions? Were they all affectation? Done in the service of a desired outcome?

  A disturbing thought.

  “For the promise,” Princess Xenia said then. “It was obvious from your grace’s tone earlier that he hates slavers. Well, we of Caiperas hate them too. And I promise to make contact with all our trade agents and gather such information as I can for your grace about these slavers that trouble his lands.”

  “Trade contacts from a landlocked kingdom,” Princess Astrid said, practically rolling her eyes. “I’m sure the information you gather will prove invaluable.”

  “Did I interrupt you, Astrid?”

  Princess Astrid raised her hands, conceding the point, and gestured for Princess Xenia to continue.

  “And the boon?” Aefric asked.

  Did these women train in shy smiles? The one Princess Xenia turned on Aefric then was at least as powerful as Princess Astrid’s.

  “I was hoping that, before I return to Caiperas, his grace might be willing to show me some of the magic I have heard so much about.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Aefric said.

  “Oh, thank you, your grace,” she said, smiling broadly.

  Princess Astrid took that as an opening to turn the topic back to Aefric and his magic, his training and the like, which topic lasted through the end of dinner.

  Dinner, at last, was ending, and Aefric looked forward to seeing the two princesses on their way so he could have a little time to himself before bed.

  At least they weren’t Armyrian noblewomen. He didn’t have to worry about their personal rivalry bringing them to his chambers that night.

  At least, he didn’t think that would happen…

  No. Someone would have warned him.

  No, soon they would return to their own rooms, and he could finally take time to read his letters from Maev, Byrhta, and Vercy. And then there were reports that he really ought to go over before his morning meeting with his advisers.

  He might even try to contact Karbin by message spell. He’d expected to hear from his old mentor well before now, and he was starting to become worried.

  He didn’t believe there was a true need for concern. Karbin had pulled himself out of tighter scrapes than a simple investigation into a ring of slavers. Hells, the man had once fought his way back from the Abyss itself.

  Still. Odd that he hadn’t reported in yet.

  Aefric was just saying his goodbyes to the princesses, near the door of the dining room when Princess Astrid turned, a thoughtful look on her face.

  “Your grace,” she said. “As I must leave for Malimfar in the morning, to begin my investigations properly, might I have the honor of sharing a last drink with you on the balcony?”

  “Oh,” Princess Xenia said, turning. “That sounds like a lovely idea. It’s such a pleasant evening.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Princess Astrid said, and she smiled the way a cat smiles when it corners a mouse. “I imagine you’ll need to leave for Caiperas first thing tomorrow. Won’t you, Xenia?”

  “Well, I—”

  “After all,” Princess Astrid continued, “you did promise to use Caiperas’ extensive network of trade contacts to aid his grace’s search for those slavers. And surely that cannot be done from here by rika bird.”

  “Well,” Princess Xenia said, frowning, and visibly trying to find a way to counter Princess Astrid’s logic.

  “Although, from here,” Princess Astrid said, “it might be faster to travel to those port cities in person for your share of the investigation. Caiperas is such a long way from here by horse.”

  Princess Xenia opened her mouth to say something, but this time Princess Astrid didn’t even let her say “well” before pouncing.

  “And you did promise his grace, didn’t you.”

  Aefric had witnessed many duels in his day.

  Duels fought with spells, swords, axes, daggers, maces, bows, crossbows, hand crossbows, even one ill-advised duel fought with ballista. But rarely did he see so one-sided a duel as the verbal takedown of Princess Xenia he’d just witnessed.

  Princess Xenia sighed, and said, “You’re right, Astrid. I really should begin at first light.”

  “In that case,” Princess Astrid said, “I cannot object if you wish to join us. Should his grace be willing to share a drink and conversation with us.”

  “But of course,” Aefric said, smiling. And the smile was actually sincere. After all, they were both leaving in the morning. And neither one had so much as hinted about marriage.

  Well, all right. They’d hinted a little, but in such a roundabout way that Aefric felt he could be excused for ignoring those hints completely.

  And in the morning they’d be gone.

  Oh, they’d come back. That much was certain as well. But one thing Aefric had learned in his years of adventuring — focus on the problem at hand first. Tomorrow’s problem could wait until today’s problem left it enough room.

  So tonight, a drink.

  The balcony on the public floor of his apartments was wide and broad enough for a decent-sized party. Which probably meant that Aefric would be expected to throw parties here from time to time.

  Again, that was a future problem.

  Right now, he had two princesses, settling onto comfortable, padded greenwood chairs on that balcony that gave them a wonderful view of the lake. On a clear night like this one, they could see the lights in towns all around the lake.

  Even, only just barely, the lights of Behal, away to the south, and Lachedran, to the north.

  Just before joining them, Aefric called a servant over. A young girl who must’ve been in training, because he didn’t know her name.

  “Quick,” he said softly. “Run upstairs to Dajen and have him pick out a drink fit for these two princesses, then bring it down with enough glasses for three.”

  “At once, your grace,” the girl said softly, and whisked away up the stairs.

  “The drinks will be out in just a moment,” Aefric said, coming over to join them.

  “The view is magnificent, your grace,” Princess Astrid said, getting agreement from Princess Xenia. “Your grace really must visit us at Svarturvigi. Our castle is not so grand as this one, but we have amazing views of the sunset over the Risen Sea.”

  “At Reyvenue,” Princess Xenia said, “it is our view of the dawn that’s the most striking. As it first peeks over the tip of the Demon, our mightiest mountain, it looks as a battle out of the tales of the gods.”

  “We have both views here as well,” Aefric said. “The lake to the east, yes. But also the mountains to the north, and the Risen Sea to the west.”

  “But surely, your grace,” Princess Astrid said, “the Risen Sea is too far for a proper view.”

  “From the keep, yes,” Aefric said, then pointed up. “But from the Spike, which is what we call our central tower, the views cannot be beaten.”

  The serving girl came out with a bottle and three small, stemmed glasses. Both princesses checked the glasses and the bottle with their poison-detecting rings, then nodded for the girl to pour.

  The liqueur was thick, and amber in color, and smelled sweet.

  “To friendly relations among all our countries,” Aefric said, raising his glass in a toast. The princesses both raised theirs in agreement, and all three drank.

  The liqueur was strong, and tasted of honey and caramel. Both princesses made sounds even more approving than those they’d made for the dessert.

  “Where did you get this?” Princess Astrid asked.

  “I’ll have to ask my valet,” Aefric admitted. “I let him choose.”

  “And your grace admits that, rather than take the credit,” Princess Astrid said, as though surprised. She raised her glass and smiled. “To an honest nobleman.”

  “They’re certainly rare enough,” Princess Xenia said, and raised her own glass in solidarity.

  Aefric wasn’t sure whether he should raise his glass to the toast, but he did drink with them.

  “Oh,” he said after the drink. “I promised your highness a display of magic. And if you’re leaving in the morning, this is really the only time for it.”

  “Well,” Princess Xenia said, shooting a glance at Princess Astrid. “I’d been hoping for a private demonstration—”

  “I’ll bet you were,” Princess Astrid said.

  “—but under the circumstances, I suppose we must make do.” She gave Aefric a big smile. “Please, your grace.”

  “All right,” Aefric said, setting down his glass. “I imagine lightning is what I’m best known for. And it’s certainly showy.”

  “But potentially destructive,” Princess Astrid said.

  “I’m sure his grace knows what he’s doing,” Princess Xenia said, then fluttered her eyelashes at Princess Astrid. “Though perhaps a display of your grace’s ice magic prowess—”

  “Xenia!” Princess Astrid said, beginning to stand.

  “Please, your highnesses,” Aefric said, making calming gestures. “We were doing so well. Let us not descend again into pointless disputes.”

  Princess Astrid resumed her seat, but continued glaring at Princess Xenia, who was doing her best to ignore her counterpart, and pay her attention to Aefric.

  “I’m sure whatever your grace thinks best will be more than good enough.”

  “Lightning it is,” he said, calling the Brightstaff to his hand from where it stood no more than two feet away.

  Princess Xenia made a small, impressed sound at that, while Princess Astrid rolled her eyes at her.

  Aefric took his staff in both hands and raised it horizontally.

  He mumbled a few nonsense words for effect, while he focused his will and his skills through the powers of his staff.

  White fire began to play along the staff’s length. He shifted his grip, and thrust the yellow diamond into the air.

  Bolts of lightning shot off into the clear night sky. Yellow bolts at first, then green, blue, indigo, violet, red, orange, and yellow once more.

  He thumped the staff on the ground, extinguishing its flames.

  Both princesses applauded. Princess Xenia effusively, but even Princess Astrid looked impressed.

  Aefric left the Brightstaff standing beside him, resumed his seat, and poured them each a little more of the liqueur.

  The conversation was lighter then, but measured. As though the two princesses were still involved in some kind of conversational duel.

  If so, though, Aefric couldn’t quite follow the strikes and parries. Because they were discussing nothing more significant than ships and horses, weather, favorite meals and places and times of year.

  By the time they finally departed that night, each giving Aefric a smile and a kiss on the cheek — which he took as a gesture of friendship — he had the feeling that he’d been involved in one conversation while the princesses were having another.

  And he didn’t know what it was.

  With the princesses finally gone, Aefric ascended his carved, curved staircase to the private floors of his apartments.

  Dajen was waiting for Aefric in the sitting room, standing crisp and tall at the top of the stairs, as though he’d known exactly what moment his duke would arrive.

  Always. He always seemed to do that. If Aefric didn’t know better, he’d’ve sworn magic was involved.

  “I trust that your grace intends to retire to his study for a time?”

  Not just a lucky guess, that time. Aefric had made it an almost nightly habit, before bed.

  “I do,” Aefric said, then hurried along to cut off what Dajen would inevitably say next. “I do not, however, require a robe, or other lounging attire. What I have on will suffice.”

  Dajen frowned. “Your grace is certain? He might be more comfortable in—”

  “Dajen,” Aefric said. “I appreciate your efforts. You must know this. But you must also remember. I used to live out of two or three sets of clothes for aetts at a time. I don’t need to change my outfit three or four times a day, the way some nobles do.”

  “Your grace also often lived on” — Dajen frowned in distaste — “trail rations and the low cooking of the basest inns and taverns. Should I then ask his cooks to refrain from providing him such fine cuisine as he enjoyed tonight?”

  Aefric laughed. “Don’t you dare.”

  “I would never dream of providing your grace anything less than the best available of all things,” Dajen said, a triumphant gleam in his eye. “And as your grace makes the transition to the expectations of a duke’s life, he must consider that there are reasons for all such benefits. Including the changes of clothes.”

  “All right, all right,” Aefric said, raising his free hand in surrender before Dajen started explaining what those benefits were. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future. But for now, for tonight, I’m not changing my clothes again.”

  “If your grace insists,” Dajen said with a slight bow. “May I provide any other service?”

  “Some water for my study?”

  “A fresh ewer and goblet await your grace even now.”

  “I should have known,” Aefric said, shaking his head. “Three other things, then. Send word to my historian that I need a copy of the justiciar’s report on Ser Grud Ol’Garan for Princess Astrid of Malimfar. Preferably prepared before the princess leaves in the morning.”

  “Of course, your grace,” Dajen said.

  “I’d also like two bottles of that excellent liqueur you chose for tonight prepared as gifts. One each for Princess Astrid and Princess Xenia.”

  “A fine choice, your grace,” Dajen said with a small bow. “I’m pleased that they appreciated the honsach.”

  “They admired it a great deal,” Aefric said. “And for the last thing, please inform my councilors that the princesses depart in the morning, and that our morning meeting will be a breakfast meeting, after I’ve said a proper goodbye to the princesses.”

  “I shall see it done, your grace.”

  Aefric thanked and dismissed Dajen then, and retired to his study, speaking the word that lit the room as he entered, closing the door behind him.

  Ah, peace at last.

  Aefric’s study was one of his favorite rooms in the castle. Possibly because no one would disturb him here short of a pressing need.

  But also, he enjoyed the study on its own merits. The cool blues and greens of the painted plaster on the walls. The soft, gray rugs spread out across the black walnut floorboards.

  One long wall was covered in a tapestry map of Deepwater, from Kerrik Forest to the Risen Sea, and from border of Merrek to the Dragonscar. But the towns and cities were missing from the map, as were the castles of his vassals.

  Instead, only personal residences of the duke himself were marked. The Castle at Water’s End. Behal Castle. His hunting lodge in the Forest of Souls. A handful of other properties scattered across the lands held by his vassals.

  On the short walls hung four large paintings Aefric had commissioned of views from atop the Spike. The north and east views on one wall, the south and west views facing it.

  The other long wall featured windows, for such times as Aefric wished to gaze out over the lake. This evening, he had the navy blue curtains drawn shut. He’d seen enough of the lake today.

  He had a large, calinwood desk in the center of the room, with a matching armchair. He also had a place to sit along each of the three interior walls, all of them overstuffed: a navy blue couch before the long wall, and a pair of facing armchairs on the short walls.

  In the wintertime, braziers would probably need to be brought in, to drive away the chill. But tonight, the room was pleasant. Not too warm and not too cold. And the air smelled faintly of something floral.

  Honeysuckle?

  Perhaps. Or perhaps he’d just had Maev on his mind too much lately. That scent he always associated with her.

  A small bookcase sat beside the door. Normally, it held only whatever books Aefric himself brought in from his library, for casual reading. Tonight, it held that copy of kindaren poetry that Dajen had spoken of.