Page 226 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

At last, Sabran turned to face them again.

“Whether this legend is true or not,” she said, “I have no choice but to trust you, Ead.” Her face hardened. “Our mutual enemy will rise. Both our religions confirm it. I mean for us to stand against him. I mean to lead Inys to victory, as Glorian Shieldheart did.”

“I believe you can,” Ead said.

Sabran returned to her seat. “Since there are no ships heading north tonight,” she said, “I would like you to attend the Feast of High Winter. You, too, Loth.”

Loth frowned. “The feast will still proceed?”

“I think there is more need for it than ever. The arrangements ought to be in place.”

“People will see that you are not with child.” Loth hesitated. “Will you tell them you are barren?”

Sabran dropped her gaze to her belly.

“Barren.” A thin smile. “We must think of a different word for it, I think. That one makes me sound like a field stripped of its crop. A waste with nothing left to give.”

She was right. It was a cruel way to describe a person.

“Forgive me,” he murmured.

Sabran nodded. “I will tell the court that I lost the child, but as far as they will know, I might yet conceive another.”

It would grieve her subjects, but leave them with a ray of hope.

“Ead,” Sabran said, “I would like to make you a member of the Knights Bachelor.”

“I want no titles.”

“You will accept, or you will be in too much danger to remain at court. Crest told everyone you were a witch. This position will dispel any doubt that I believe you loyal.”

“I agree,” Loth said.

Ead offered the barest nod of acknowledgment. “Dame I am, then,” she said, after a pause.

The silence yawned long between the three of them. Allies now, yet they seemed to sit on a glass in that moment—a glass broken into faultlines of religion and inheritance.

“I will go and tell Margret of our journey,” Ead said, and rose. “Oh, and Sabran, I will not be wearing court fashions any longer. I’ve had more than enough of trying to protect you in a petticoat.”

She left without waiting to be dismissed. Sabran looked after her with a strange expression.

“Are you well?” Loth said to her quietly.

“Now you are back.”

They both smiled, and Sabran covered his hand with hers. Cold, as always, the nails tinged with lilac. He had teased her about it when they were children.Princess Snow.

“I have not yet thanked you for all you did to liberate me,” she said. “I understand you were the one who roused the court in my defense.”

He squeezed her hand. “You are my queen. And my friend.”

“When I heard that you had left, I thought I would go mad . . . I knew you would never have gone of your own accord, but I had no proof. I was powerless in my own court.”

“I know.”

She pressed his hand once more. “For now,” she said, “I am entrusting to you the duties of the Duchy of Justice. You will decide whether Combe, Fynch, and Stillwater truly were returning to help me.”

“This is a grave obligation. Meant for one with holy blood,” Loth said. “Surely one of the Earls Provincial proper would be better.”

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