Page 225 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“So you would like your new Virtues Council to tell you only what you want to hear.” Ead raised her cup. “Very well, Your Majesty. Loth can be Duke of Flattery, and I’ll be Duchess of Deceit.”

“Enough,” Sabran barked.

“Peace,” Loth cut in. “Please.” Neither of them spoke. “We cannot quarrel. We must be united now. Because of—” His mouth was dry. “Because of what is to come.”

“And whatisto come?”

Loth tried to say it, but the words fled from him. He gave Ead a defeated look.

“Sabran,” Ead said quietly, “the Nameless One will return.”

For a long time, Sabran seemed to withdraw into her own world. Slowly, she rose, walked toward the balcony, and stood upon it, limmed by the sun.

“It is true,” Ead said eventually. “A letter to the Priory from a woman named Neporo convinced me. Cleolind stood with her to bind the Nameless One—but only for a thousand years. And that thousand years is very close to ending.”

Sabran placed her hands on the balustrade. A breeze caught a few strands of her hair.

“So,” she said, “it is as my ancestor said. That when the House of Berethnet ends . . . the Nameless One will return.”

“It has naught to do with you,” Ead said. “Or your ancestors. Most likely Galian made the claim to consolidate his new-found power, and to make himself a god in the eyes of his people. He fed his descendants to the jaws of his lie.”

Sabran said nothing.

Loth wanted to comfort her, but nothing could soften tidings like these.

“The Nameless One was bound on the third day of spring, during the twentieth year of the reign of Mokwo, Empress of Seiiki,” Ead said, “but I do not know when Mokwo ruled. You must ask High Princess Ermuna to find the date. She is Archduchess of Ostendeur, where documents on the East are stored.” When Sabran continued in her silence, Ead sighed. “I know this is heresy to you. But if you love the woman you know as the Damsel—if you have any respect for the memory of Cleolind Onjenyu—then you will do this.”

Sabran lifted her chin. “And if we discover the date? What then?”

Ead reached under her collar and withdrew the pale jewel she had taken from the Priory.

“This is the waning jewel. It is one of a pair.” She placed it on the table. “It is made from sterren. Its sister is most likely in the East. The letter said we need them both.”

Sabran looked at it over her shoulder.

The sunshine glowed in the waning jewel. Being close to it gave Loth a sense of cool tranquility—almost the opposite of what he always felt from Ead. She was the living flame of the sun. This was starlight.

“After Cleolind wounded the Nameless One, she appears to have traveled to the East,” Ead said. “There she met Neporo of Komoridu, and together they bound the Nameless One in the Abyss.” She tapped the jewel. “We must repeat what was done a thousand years ago—but we must finish it this time. And to do that, we also need Ascalon.”

Sabran returned her gaze to the horizon. “Every Berethnet queen has searched for the True Sword, to no avail.”

“None of them had a jewel that will call to it.” Ead hung it around her neck again. “Kalyba told me that Galian meant to leave Ascalon in the hands of those who would die to keep it hidden. We know he had a loyal retinue, but does anyone come to mind?”

“Edrig of Arondine,” Loth said at once. “The Saint squired for him before he became a knight himself. Viewed him as a father.”

“Where did he live?”

Loth smiled. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “he is one of the founders of the Beck family.”

Ead raised her eyebrows.

“Goldenbirch,” she said. “Perhaps I will begin my search there—with you and Meg, if you will keep me company. Your father has been wanting to speak to her, in any case.”

“You truly think it could be in Goldenbirch?”

“It is as good a place as any to begin.”

Loth thought of the night before. “One of us should stay,” he said. “Meg can go with you.”

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