“Tell me, how did you make your choice, Regan?” Edyon asked. Regan’s wife had died young, Edyon had learned. She had been from a rich family—richer than Regan’s.
“Purely from my heart,” Regan said. “We had a short but happy time together.” And he put on a pained expression of grief, adding, “I wish all could be so happy as I was.”
“She sounds quite special. I wish I could have met her.”
“Indeed. Excuse me, Your Highness.” And Regan, overcome by his memories, bowed and left.
Edyon watched him go. “She must have been a remarkable woman, to have been able to make Regan happy.”
“She was remarkably rich, they say,” Byron replied.
“I sometimes wonder about Lord Regan. He’s given a lot of thought to the wealth of Abask.”
“He gives a lot of thought to his own wealth.”
“Do you trust him?”
Byron frowned. “I . . . in what way?”
“Is he loyal?”
“Yes. Undoubtedly, Your Highness. He’d die for Calidor.”
Edyon replied, “All the lords are loyal to Calidor. They know their future is tied to this country and their lands. They’d rather die than lose their land. So they fight to the death. It’s self-interest.”
Byron shook his head. “I think you do many of the lords a disservice, including my father. He loves his land, but also the people on it.”
“I’m sorry, Byron. I spoke rashly. Please forgive me. I meant no insult to you or your family.”
But Edyon looked around. This place didn’t feel like his land—he wouldn’t want to die for it. It felt like a lie. “I don’t know if I belong here. I could build a castle and a village, but the people who moved here wouldn’t be Abask people. I’m not Abask.”
“You’re the Prince of Abask, Edyon. It is your land. You can do with it what you want. Make it what you want.”
Edyon forced a smile. “You’re a good person, Byron. Sometimes I don’t know what to believe. I’m not sure what is the truth and what is a lie. But perhaps one day I’ll build a home here—a place to retreat from the world.”
“Whatever you choose, make it your truth, Edyon.” And Byron reached across and lifted Edyon’s hand and kissed it.
To Edyon’s surprise, tears filled his eyes. He felt that someone truly cared for him. And immediately his thoughts turned to March. What he’d have given for March to say that to him, to have March kiss his hand again.
CATHERINE
NORTHERN PITORIA
If the ship leaks, everyone gets wet.
Pitorian saying
CATHERINE RELEASED Tzsayn’s hand as dawn broke. She had spent the whole night with him, talking, kiss-ing, sharing their hopes and plans, but now she had to leave.
She whispered to him, “Be strong. Once this is over, we’ll be together.” Then she kissed him on the cheek, then on the lips.
Tzsayn caressed her neck. “I’m feeling stronger already, thanks to you. Savage knows what he’s doing. I’ll be glad to be rid of this darned leg if it means we can start our future life together.”
Catherine kissed him again. “I’ll be thinking of you.”
“Think of me some of the time, but also think about your own safety. Do as Ffyn says. He’s there to take possession of these ships but also to protect you.”
“Once I’ve signed a loan agreement so huge all the finan-ciers in Calidor will be cheering, and I’m totally safe, then I’ll think only of you. Is that acceptable?”
He smiled. “That is definitely acceptable.”
“I have to go. One more kiss, then I’m leaving.” But it was at least ten more before she managed to tear herself away.
Catherine left the camp on horseback with General Ffyn and a hundred soldiers, her white-hairs as well as Tzsayn’s blues. The men were immaculate, their armor and horses gleaming. Catherine’s own armor glinted in the sun and, with her white dress below it, she looked, according to Tanya, “like someone from another world, someone invincible.”
As they passed through villages along the way, people ran out to watch and cheer, and Catherine and the men waved back. It was all part of the performance of being a queen. So much of life seemed to be a performance that it was some-times hard to know where that ended and the real Catherine began. Here she was, dressed in armor and looking invincible, but inside she had never felt so afraid. Afraid for Tzsayn, the pain he was in and the pain yet to come. And yet very few people even knew he