Page 66 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“Rise,” Sabran said. “Please.”

Lievelyn obeyed. There was a brief silence as the companions-to-be took the measure of each other.

“We understand Your Royal Highness has visited Ascalon once before,” Sabran said.

“Yes, Majesty, for the marriage of your parents. I was only two years old, but my mother, who was also present, spoke often of how beautiful Queen Rosarian looked that day, and how the people were praying that she would soon be delivered of a daughter as gracious and resilient as she. And so you have proved to be. When I heard that Your Majesty had cowed the right wing of the Nameless One, it only confirmed what I knew of your strength.”

Sabran did not smile, but her eyes shone. “We had expected to meet your noble sisters.”

“They will come soon, Your Majesty. Princess Betriese was taken ill, and the others would not leave her side.”

“We are sorry for it.” Sabran held out her hand again, this time to the ambassador. “Welcome back, Oscarde.”

“Majesty.” The ambassador stooped to kiss the ring. “If I may, I would like to present my mother, Lady Aleidine Teldan utt Kantmarkt, Dowager Duchess of Zeedeur.”

The Dowager Duchess curtsied. “Your Majesty.” She was a striking woman, possessed of rich copper hair and hooded eyes. Crow’s feet were etched into her olive skin. “What a great honor.”

“You are welcome to Ascalon, Your Grace. As are you,” Sabran added to someone behind her, “Your Excellency.”

When Lievelyn stood aside, Ead drew a breath. The ambassador who had just entered the Presence Chamber wore a golden headdress and a cloak of tinseled satin, dyed the rich blue of larkspur. Behind him were the Ersyri and Lasian delegations.

“Majesty.” With a smile, Chassar uq-Ispad bowed. Faces turned to look at this mountain of a man, with his swathed head and his full black beard. “It has been a very long time.”

He was here.

After all these years, he had come back.

“It has,” Sabran said. “We began to think His Most High Majesty would send no representatives.”

“My master would never insult Your Majesty in such a manner. King Jantar sends his congratulations on your betrothal, as does High Ruler Kagudo, whose delegation joined us in Perchling.”

Kagudo was High Ruler of the Domain of Lasia, head of the oldest royal house in the known world. She was a direct descendant of Selinu the Oathkeeper, and was thus a blood relative of the Mother. Ead had never met her, but she often wrote to the Prioress.

“Fortunately,” Chassar continued, “Prince Aubrecht had just docked when we came ashore, so I was able to enjoy his good company for the remainder of the journey.”

“We hope to enjoy Prince Aubrecht’s good company for the foreseeable future,” Sabran said.

Some of the maids of honor hid their giggles behind their fans. Lievelyn smiled again.

The courtesies went on, Sabran never taking her eyes off her betrothed, and he never taking his eyes off her. Chassar glanced at Ead and gave her the very smallest of nods before looking away.

Once the audience had reached its end, Sabran invited her guests to the tiltyard to watch the lance games. Challengers would joust in view of a thousand citizens from the city. They just about lost their heads at the sight of Sabran, cheering for the queen who had banished a High Western. She was Glorian Shieldheart come again.

“Hail, Sabran the Magnificent,” they shouted. “Long live the House of Berethnet!” The roars of appreciation loudened as Lievelyn sat beside her in the Royal Box.

“Protect us, Your Majesty!”

“Majesty, we take heart from your courage!”

Ead found a place on the shaded benches with the other ladies-in-waiting and watched the crowd, waiting for a crossbow or pistol to appear in the stands. Her siden was all but extinguished, but she had knives enough for a slew of cutthroats.

Chassar was on the other side of the Royal Box. She would have to wait until after Sabran had retired to speak with him.

“Saint, I thought that introduction would never end.” Margret took a glass of strawberry wine from a page. Two knights-errant lowered their visors. “I do believe Sabran likes her Red Prince. She tried to hide it, but I think she is already smitten.”

“Lievelyn certainly is,” Ead said, distracted.

Combe was in the Royal Box. She scoured him with her gaze, trying to work out whether he looked at Sabran as though she were his queen, or a piece to be moved on a gameboard.

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