we can’t complain. Things have been pretty peaceful over the last few years. Even Talak’s been quiet for months.”
Gwen settled into his arms. “Let’s hope it stays that way. I’d hate for something to ruin as lovely a day as this.”
They kissed and then sat quietly on the bench, listening to the birds and enjoying the day. Neither of them spoke of the return of Darkhorse, Talak’s army marching, or Shade’s plot. What point was there in talking about such things?
None of them had happened.
XIII
A DAY HAD passed since the departure of the column, and it had been a day of change. It was not something that Erini found she could put her finger on at first. A glance from one of the palace guards, the curt words of one servant to another, and the politeness of Counselor Quorin. The last worried her most, for if the advisor had reason to be polite to her, it probably meant trouble.
Melicard’s manner seemed to be the only positive result of yesterday’s events. He was actually jubilant.
One final change confused more than worried her. After insisting that she allow him to protect her better, Iston had found reason after reason to summon his men away. From Galea, she had been told that the captain was out somewhere, honing his troops to battle-fitness as every good commander should; while from Magda, she received only an amused smile, a response to Galea’s simplistic explanation. Erini suspected that neither of them really knew what Iston was actually doing.
Breakfast with Melicard went swimmingly, as her father would have put it. The princess was astounded at how pleasant he could be. More and more, his talk turned to peaceful times, times without the Dragon Kings and what he would then hope to accomplish. He even began talking about bridging the chasm that he had set up between himself and his neighbors, especially Penacles and Irillian. It would have been an idyllic world, the one he built up over the course of the meal, if it had not had one major flaw.
There was no mention of the drake race in his new world. From the way the king spoke, Erini knew that there would be no room for the drakes. It marred an otherwise wonderful morning. Finally, she put the thought aside, assuring herself that she would press him on it once they were married.
For the first time, Melicard broached the subject of marriage.
The two of them had walked outside onto one of the marble terraces that seemed to have been a preoccupation with one of the palace’s designers. Two sentries stood stiffly at attention as the royal couple glided by. At home, Erini would have expected to see at least a dozen guards nearby—just for her protection. Melicard, however, seemed confident of his own safety. Erini was not so certain.
“You’ve made a change here, my princess. You know that, do you not?”
“What could I have done? I’ve only been here a short time.”
The king closed his one eye (though the light made it seem as if both eyes closed) and appeared to make a rapid calculation. He opened his eye and smiled with the good half of his mouth.
“It has been only a short time, hasn’t it? I’ve begun to feel as if you have been here always. Quorin says the same thing.”
With a very different meaning behind it, the princess thought in grim satisfaction. “This is my home. I feel that way, too.”
Melicard turned his gaze away from her, embarrassed. This was not the sort of thing he understood well. Battles and vengeance were his forte. “I told you something to the effect that love at first sight exists only in tales. I think I was wrong.”
“You were. I know from personal experience.”
Without thinking, he brought up the elfwood arm and took her hand. The arm was pleasantly cool to the touch, smooth without feeling lifeless. Erini noticed how its feel seemed to be dependent upon her betrothed’s mood.
“I cannot say how long this crusade will last, or if it will even end during our lifetimes, for that matter. Regardless, if you are willing, I think it’s time that we put an end to the ‘royal courtship’ and began planning for—the future.”
She laughed lightly, positively delighted with the way he had put it. “Marriage? Is that the word you sought, your majesty?”
Melicard nodded with mock severity. “Yes, I think so.”
Her kiss proved to be the proper response. As with the false arm, she hardly noticed that a