And Okelai, she wanted to borrow a horse in the morning and head for the Dragonscar.

  So Aefric was alone on his balcony, sipping some of the slightly sweet, yet quite strong ishka they’d shared over that lemon pie dessert.

  At least, he was alone until Dajen knocked and announced the arrival of his invited guest.

  Zoleen Fyrenn was smiling as she stepped out onto the balcony. Her copper hair was down and bouncing with each step. She wore a flattering, low-cut dark blue gown covered in dozens of straps and ties.

  “Aefric,” she said, arms spread wide, “do you like my dress? I bought it with you in mind.”

  Aefric didn’t stand to meet her. And he didn’t gesture for her to sit down. Two things that were not lost on Zoleen. Though perhaps his serious expression was a factor there.

  She stopped just out of arm’s reach. Frowned, and Aefric wondered how much of her pout was exaggerated, for effect.

  How much of everything she did was exaggerated, for effect?

  Had he even met the real Zoleen Fyrenn? Or was every word he’d heard from her pretense, trying to create the image of the woman she believed he would fall for?

  “What’s the matter, Aefric?” she asked softly. “What ever could be troubling you so? Tell me. Let me help you.”

  “I’m the wrong person to ask,” he said.

  “Who is?”

  “Ler Flizan Ol’Orvash.”

  Aefric thought he could see her making connections, behind those sapphire eyes.

  “That I sent him a rika?” She gave him a slow smile. “Are you jealous, Aefric? I assure you it was just family business. A little something my sister asked me to take care of.”

  “You’re good,” Aefric said, nodding. “You’re really very good.”

  “You should know,” she teased.

  “Family business,” he said. “Something your sister asked you to take care of. Words calculated to make me think you were doing a favor for Ashling. Maybe something trade related.”

  “What makes you think I wasn’t?”

  “Oh, it might’ve been Ashling who put the idea in your head,” Aefric conceded. “Or it might’ve been the queen. Either way, the family business in this case wasn’t trade, was it? It was the business of joining families.”

  “What have I done to displease you, Aefric?” she asked. “How can I make it right?”

  Aefric had to admit, she both looked and sounded sincere.

  But did that mean anything?

  “You must know that Byrhta Ol’Caran and I write each other regularly.”

  “I do, and I freely admit I’m jealous that…” She closed her eyes with a small “oh” sound. Grimaced. “Ler Flizan is in Riverbreak. And so is Byrhta Ol’Caran. But … no. I’m afraid I’m still not sure what you think I did to wrong you.”

  “Very well,” Aefric said. “If you will make me say it. I think that as soon as word got around that Byrhta and Vercy were coming to visit, you took to the rookery to use family connections to keep your competition for my affections at bay.”

  “Well, really, Aefric,” Zoleen said, drolly. “In her most flattering dreams, Vercy Ol’Karmak could never compete with me. And Byrhta Ol’Caran, well, properly speaking she’s no competition either. The impoverished daughter of your own vassal?”

  Zoleen laughed softly and shook her head. “Still. The woman is so damnably beautiful that she could be a dangerous distraction.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Of course, Aefric,” Zoleen said, as though surprised she understood something that Aefric didn’t. “Your choice of brides is one of the most important decisions you will make as duke. It will shape Deepwater for generations to come. You really can’t afford to be distracted from your duty here simply because that woman was gifted with a face and body that the gods themselves would envy.”

  “So you don’t deny using your connections to keep her away?”

  “Deny it?” Zoleen asked, still looking puzzled. “Of course not. Why would I? How could I ever spend any time with you, prove that I’m the right woman for you, if I let Byrhta Ol’Caran keep you busy chasing the bliss moment with her?”

  Zoleen cocked her hips and an eyebrow. “I hope I’ve at least proven myself a worthy candidate in that regard.”

  “This isn’t about the bliss moment,” Aefric said, shaking his head. “What it’s really about is the fact that I liked you.”

  Zoleen clearly heard his use of the past tense. Her eyes widened with worry. “Aefric,” she started, but Aefric kept talking.

  “I did. I enjoyed your company enough that I looked forward to spending time with you. But the problem is, you’ve proven I can’t trust you.”

  “No,” she gasped. “You can’t mean that.”

  “Whatever else they may be,” Aefric said, “Byrhta and Vercy are my vassals. And they asked my permission to come for a visit. To see me, yes, but also to see their majesties. Not everyone has the queen herself for a sister or cousin. Not everyone can visit their monarchs anytime they want.”

  “Oh, Aefric,” Zoleen started again, but Aefric still wasn’t finished.

  “You went behind my back. Applied pressure to keep them away. And in so doing, you have denied them a rare opportunity for an audience with their majesties.”

  Tears welled up in those sapphire eyes.

  “And you hurt me in the process,” Aefric continued. “You yourself pointed out that King Colm is using this visit to check on me, as a duke. Well, now two of my most fiercely loyal vassals won’t get to speak on my behalf.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, voice raw with emotion.

  “I believe you,” Aefric said gently. “And I would like to think you will never do anything like this again.”

  He held up one hand to stop anything she might say.

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t try promising me you won’t. Not right here and right now. I wouldn’t be able to believe you.”

  “What can I do?” she lamented.

  “I don’t know,” Aefric said, shaking his head. “What I do know is that right now I can’t trust you. Not after that. And trust is too important to me.”

  “There must be something.”

  “Perhaps,” Aefric said. “Perhaps not. I honestly don’t know. But right now, it’s too soon for me to forgive you, much less consider trusting you again. I’ll be too worried that you’re covering. Just doing better at hiding those intrigues you swore were not your way.”

  Those tears began sliding down her cheeks now.

  “Will you at least let me try to make up for this?”

  The pain welling within him wanted to say no. But that would be going too far.

  “Yes,” Aefric said, though the word tasted bitter. “I will let you try. But not now. And not soon.” He drew a deep breath. “Tomorrow morning, I want you to leave Water’s End.”

  “No! Don’t send me away, Aefric. Please.”

  “I need distance from you right now,” Aefric said.

  And he did. The sincerity in her eyes and her aspect was making his heart pound with doubt. As well as the desire to take her in his arms and wipe away those tears.

  But he had to be strong.

  Everything she was doing could have been an act. Even the tears.

  “So,” he continued. “You will leave Water’s End with the morning tide. And you will not return without my permission.”

  “But what about tonight?” she asked, almost begging now. “Give me tonight, at least, Aefric. One more night in your arms.”

  “Tonight you return to your rooms.” He shook his head. “I don’t want any company at all tonight.”

  “One last kiss, at least?”

  Aefric shook his head. “If I kiss you again, I want it to be out of joy and desire.”

  “Then I shall do everything in my power to resurrect those feelings in you,” she said, with so much determination that Aefric was reminded of both her sisters.

  “Until that day,” Aefric said, heart beating even heavier now, “I think it’s better if you address me as ‘your grace.’”

  She sobbed aloud, and fled from the balcony, crying.

  Aefric let out a long, deep sigh.

  He felt terrible, but knew he’d done what he needed to do.

  “Wow. That was rough. Deserved. But rough.”

  Maev’s voice?

  Aefric turned to see her clamber up onto the rail of his balcony — from the outside.

  She smiled.

  “Are you sure you won’t accept any company tonight, Aefric?”

  Aefric couldn’t believe his eyes, but there she was.

  Maev. Clad in her buckskins. Silhouetted against the starry night sky. Her long black hair flying wild behind her, even though the breeze wasn’t all that strong.

  She crouched on the rail of his balcony, not a dozen paces from where Aefric sat on a greenwood chair. A swallow of that sweet, strong ishka still in the small glass he held.

  Joy sang all through Aefric’s system. He felt as though every nerve in his body were dancing at the sight of her. As though he weren’t just smiling with his lips and eyes, but with the whole of his body, and maybe more besides.

  After the complex feelings he’d had, dealing with Zoleen, to feel such pure, strong joy was dizzying.

  Maev smiled back like he was prey she’d finally managed to corner after a long hunt.

  “How?” he asked, torn between delighted laughter and pure confusion. “How could you possibly have climbed here from your rooms?”

  He pointed down and to the right along the shimmering dark blue castle walls, nearly glowing in the moonlight.

  “There’s at least a hundred feet of castle wall between our balconies. All of it smooth as glass.”

  “You’re right, of course,” she said, silently hopping down onto the balcony and striding closer. She was taking so much pleasure in all this she was practically glowing.

  “Impossible, isn’t it?” she teased. “I mean, unless one is a wizard, or a dweomerblood or something. Perhaps I have secret magics you—”

  Aefric couldn’t take the delay another second. He crossed the distance between them and took her in his arms.

  Then they were clutching each other like shipwreck victims, clinging to a floating bit of deck amid stormy waters.

  She still smelled of honeysuckle.

  “Gods I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “No more than I’ve missed you,” she said. “Gods, I feared I might never see you again.”

  And then they kissed, and everything else went away. They just sank into each other, in that kiss. Aefric felt as though he’d been frozen in ice, and now the spring sun had come out to free him.

  How long that kiss went on, Aefric couldn’t begin to guess, but when it finally ended they were both laughing in each other’s arms.

  “The look on your face,” she said, then licked her lips, picked up Aefric’s glass, and finished his ishka with a small sound of approval.

  “I still want to know how you did it,” he answered.

  “Well,” she said playfully, setting down her glass, “I could ask you to let a girl keep her secrets…”

  Another wonderful laugh burst out of her.

  “Kindaren scouts taught me,” she said, still laughing. “During the wars. It’s a trick they use to scale sheer rock face, but it works just as well with your castle walls.”

  Aefric shook his head, amazed. “The kindaren are said to guard their secrets even more jealously than the eladrani.”

  “What can I say?” she asked nipping at his neck, and nuzzling. “I am beloved by all.”

  “You’re beloved by me,” he said, and kissed her again.

  Oh, the wonder of that kiss. It was as though that kiss were a whole universe, born in a blaze of fire and shared only between the two of them.

  The kiss might’ve gone on forever, but somewhere in there Maev pulled back.

  “Come on,” she said, taking Aefric by the hand and leading him across the balcony. “Sooner or later they’ll realize I’m gone. And before they do, I want a lot more from you than kisses.”

  “You and me both,” he said, hurrying his own steps while the Brightstaff followed at his heels like an eager puppy.

  They entered his sitting room to see Dajen admitting her majesty, Queen Eppida.

  Aefric and Maev stumbled to a halt in his public sitting room. Only a few short steps from the spiral stairs up to the private level of the ducal apartments.

  Their smiles died on their faces, as they took notice of the unexpected visitor.

  Strangely enough, Queen Eppida was still dressed in her yellow silk gown. But then, Aefric hadn’t changed into eveningwear either. It had just been that kind of day.

  For a moment, all three of them simply stood there. Aefric and Maev, staring at Queen Eppida, and the queen staring right back.

  And the queen did not look happy.

  Dajen, who had admitted her majesty, quietly slipped away.

  The queen made a show of noticing that Aefric and Maev held hands. And where they were obviously going.

  “Well, well,” Queen Eppida said softly.

  Maev drew a tight, deep breath as though girding herself for battle.

  “I confess,” the queen continued. “When I left my sister, crying, in her rooms, I didn’t expect your grace to have replaced her company so soon.”

  She looked over at Maev, who returned a haughty expression, as though the queen were amusing her.

  “And really, your grace,” Queen Eppida said. “Not only am I left wondering at your dismissal of my sister, but here I find you hand-in-hand with the one woman I asked you to forebear.”

  She clucked her tongue. “I must admit I’m disappointed.”

  “Jealous that I’ll be the one sharing his bed tonight?” Maev asked.

  Queen Eppida turned her attention to Maev.

  “Oh, dear Maev, really,” she said. “Didn’t we discuss this? Didn’t we agree that this was a bad idea?”

  “You agreed it’s a bad idea,” Maev said pointedly. “I think it’s one of the best ideas I’ve ever had. And I’m not convinced Father disagrees with me.”

  “She really can be quite willful,” Queen Eppida said, turning to Aefric now.

  “Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Maev growled.

  “Then I shall revisit a few of the points from our discussion earlier. As you seem to have forgotten them—”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing,” Maev said casually. “I merely disagree.”

  “—and as his grace is intimately involved in the situation, it seems only fair that I revisit the major points.”

  “Can we do this later?” Maev said. “I want to bed this man before the snows come.”

  “We shall do this now,” Queen Eppida said, snapping off that last word so hard that Aefric almost bowed.

  Maev, however, didn’t look impressed.

  “You are promised in marriage to King Dalius of Varondam,” Queen Eppida said.

  “I am negotiating an alliance between Armyr and Varondam that might include marriage,” Maev said, sounding as though she’d repeated these words a thousand times before. “No promise of marriage has yet been made.”

  “In the last five hundred years, Varondam has forged no alliances without marriage,” Queen Eppida said.

  “Which means that when I accomplish it,” Maev said with a smile, “I will be proven the best negotiator in at least this half of the millennium.”

  “Varondam does not practice the noble privilege,” Queen Eppida continued, as though Maev hadn’t spoken.

  “Which explains a lot about their nobles,” Maev replied, and then muttered to Aefric. “I swear, they all tried to ravish me with their eyes.”

  “And Varondam does not care for our practice of the noble privilege,” Queen Eppida continued.

  “And when in Varondam, I shall do as the Varondami do,” Maev said. “Fortunately for me, I am not in Varondam. In fact, I, an Armyrian princess, stand in a castle in Deepwater, an Armyrian duchy, with Aefric here, an Armyrian duke.” She turned to Aefric. “Tell me, Aefric, does Armyr practice the noble privilege?”

  “Yes, I believe it does,” Aefric said, and Maev was getting him to smile even over the disapproving glare of her majesty.

  “And do you personally practice the noble privilege?”

  “I have been known to, on occasion.”

  “And do you have any objection to me, personally?”

  “You know I don’t.”

  “Excellent.” Maev turned her smile on Queen Eppida. “I believe that settles the matter. I, a member of the Armyrian royal family, am going upstairs with Aefric, an Armyrian noble, intent on asserting the noble privilege and seeking with him the most intense bliss moments of our lives. See you in the morning.”

  “Maev, do not take one step toward those stairs.”

  Maev whirled on the queen, fire in her eyes.

  “Your majesty,” Aefric said, keeping his voice low. “I have not forgotten our conversation from before. But you yourself must admit, you have no right to deny us the noble privilege, if we choose to seek it together.”

  “What conversation was that?” Maev asked the queen.

  “The conversation that would not be necessary if you were a dutiful daughter to your father, and a responsible princess.”

  “You go too far this time,” Maev said, dropping Aefric’s hand and clenching her fists.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “I will not let you destroy an alliance we need,” Queen Eppida said, matching Maev glare for glare and tone for tone.

  Both looked ready to go for weapons.

  Dajen answered the door.

  “Please,” Aefric said. “Surely we can discuss this.”

  “No,” King Colm said from the doorway, “I’m afraid talk won’t settle the issues between these two. Not here and now, at least.”

  King Colm strode into the room to stand between the queen and Maev.

  “One of these days one of you will kill the other,” King Colm said. “And whichever way it goes, I’ll be quite angry at the survivor.”

  “But she—” Both the queen and Maev started at the same time.