Page 257 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

The grievoushead had her in its vise. Ead tried to knead some warmth into her hand, to no avail.

“I still do not understand why she put the barb in me.” Sabran brushed her belly with the other hand. “If she speaks true, then she loved her daughter, Sabran the First. I am her blood.” The barb itself had disappeared. According to the physician who had taken it, all that remained was a lock of hair.

“Kalyba is divorced from her humanity now. You are her blood, but the affinity is not strong enough for her to love you. All she wants is your throne,” Ead said. “We may never understand her. What matters is that she is in league with the Nameless One, and that makes her our enemy.”

A knock came at the door. A Knight of the Body entered in her silver-plated armor.

“Majesty,” she said, bowing, “a bird has just arrived from Brygstad. An urgent message from Her Royal Highness, High Princess Ermuna of the House of Lievelyn.”

She handed her the letter and left. Sabran broke the seal and turned to face the window as she read.

“What does she say?” Ead asked.

Sabran drew in a breath through her nose.

“The date is—” The letter fluttered to the floor. “The date is the third day of . . .thisspring.”

And so the sandglass turned. Ead had expected the knowledge to fill her with dread, but part of her had already known.

The thousand years are almost done.

“Neporo and Cleolind must have bound the Nameless One six years after the Foundation of Ascalon.” Sabran placed her hands on the mantel. “We do not have long.”

“Long enough to cross the Abyss,” Ead said. “Sabran, you must send your ambassadors to the East with all haste to make the alliance, and I must go with them. To find the other jewel. At least then we could bind him again.”

“You cannot run blindly over the Abyss,” Sabran said, tensing. “I must write to the Eastern rulers first. The Seiikinese and the Lacustrine will execute any outsider who sets foot on their shores. I must seek their permission to land a special embassy.”

“There is no time for it. It will take weeks for a dispatch to get there.” Ead made for the door. “I will go ahead on a fast ship and—”

“Have you no care for your own life?” Sabran said hotly. Ead stopped. “I spentweeksbelieving you dead when you left Ascalon. Now you want to go across the sea without protection, without armor, to a place where you could face death or imprisonment.”

“I already did that, Sabran. The day I came to Inys.” Ead gave her a weary smile. “If I survived once, I can again.”

Sabran stood with her eyes shut, hands white-knuckled on the mantel.

“I know you must go,” she said. “To ask you to stay would be like trying to cage the wind—but please, Ead, wait. Let me arrange the embassy, so you have strength in numbers. Do not go alone.”

Ead tightened her grip on the door handle.

Sabran was right. A few days of waiting would be time lost in the East, but it might also save her head.

She turned back and said, “I will stay.”

At this, Sabran crossed the room, eyes full, and embraced her. Ead pressed a kiss to her temple and held her close.

Sabran had been dealt a cruel hand. Her Lady of the Bedchamber had died while she slept, her companion in her arms, her mother before her eyes. Her daughter had never drawn breath. Her father—if he had been her father at all—had perished in Yscalin, beyond her reach. Loss had dogged her all her life. Little wonder she was holding on so tightly.

“You remember the first day we walked together. You told me about the lovejay, and how it always knows its partner’s song, even if they have been long apart,” Ead whispered to her. “My heart knows your song, as yours knows mine. And I will always come back to you.”

“I will hold you to that, Eadaz uq-Nara.”

Ead tried to memorize her weight, her scent, the precise tenor of her voice. To lock her into her memory. “Aralaq will stay to guard you. It is why I brought him here,” she said. “He is a surly creature, but loyal, and he can tear through a wyvern well enough.”

“I will take good care of him.” Sabran drew back. “I must meet with the remaining Dukes Spiritual at once to discuss the embassy. Once the rest of the Virtues Council arrives, I will put this . . . Eastern Proposal to them. If I show them the waning jewel, and explain the significance of the date, I am confident they will vote in my favor.”

“They will battle it to the end,” Ead said, “but you are golden-tongued.”

Sabran nodded, hard with resolve. Ead left her looking out over her city.

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