snuggling comfortably onto Ostvel’s lap. Rohan sought out the other fine young lords who would teach Pol: Maarken, Sorin, Andry, Tilal, who would be his friends and support in the future. Eltanin’s boy Tallain would be another, and the children Walvis would have with Feylin—who loved dragons. He smiled, wondering if Sioned’s other prediction would be right, too, and they would name a daughter after her.
Just as Rohan had arranged to have happen at this juncture, a loud, powerful voice boomed into the Great Hall. “Cousin,” called out Prince Volog of Kierst, “I ask the indulgence of this assembly on a private matter.”
“You have our attention, cousin,” Rohan agreed affably.
Volog grinned, unable to contain his glee. But his voice turned to silk and Saumer’s head jerked around, his eyes slits of suspicion.
“My esteemed cousin of Isel and I have more in common than our island. We each have several charming daughters—and we each have an unmarried heir.”
“Yes? That’s intriguing,” Rohan commented blandly, and barely kept a straight face as Andrade gave a complex snort. “Go on, cousin.”
Volog turned to Saumer. “Need I say more?” he asked sweetly.
Saumer turned scarlet and tried not to choke. The audience tittered, appreciating that the price Saumer would pay for retaining his princedom after his support of Roelstra would be its eventual union with Kierst. His grace of Isel glared briefly at his grinning rival of Kierst, then swallowed and said, “How perceptive of you, my lord, and how elegant a suggestion it is.”
Rohan smiled with benign good humor. “We are all certain that by the next Rialla, your island will be united in true affection and harmony.” His eyes told Saumer it had better be. It was an excellent bargain, after all; they had managed to work together during and after the Plague, and with a little effort, the union of at least one pair of children would submerge the age-old enmity between the princedoms in the interests of family harmony. He felt a little guilty about dictating the lives of the young people involved. After all, he had not much liked the idea of being married off to some girl chosen by his parents. Looking down at the wife chosen for him by Andrade, he gave a rueful inner laugh. Leave it be, he decided; there was a good chance that duty would coincide with real affection, both heirs being pleasant young men and most of the daughters being as charming as Volog had asserted. The faradhi power ran in Kierstian royalty, too; Sioned’s grandmother was Volog’s grandmother as well, and it was possible that even if none of his offspring was fully gifted, a little of the magic would be there. The possibility of another prince with Sunrunner skills like Pol’s troubled Rohan a little. But that, too, was for the future, when they would puzzle out just what kind of new prince Andrade’s scheming had created.
Thought of his son brought Rohan back to the last and most serious shock of the evening. In pleasing himself through the elevations of Walvis, Ostvel, and Tilal, he had formed a future for Pol; in the maneuver with Saumer and Volog he had done the same while amusing his fellow princes mightily, if their dancing eyes were any indication. Now would come the final announcement. He glanced furtively at Andrade, who leaned back in her chair with every evidence of delight at the entertainment he had provided her. She read nothing in his eyes—but Sioned did, and rose to stand beside him, taking his hand in hers. The breach of etiquette—a princess standing when only princes were allowed to do so—silenced the Hall.
“There is yet one land lacking a prince,” Rohan said softly, a deceptively casual observation that no one had dared make out loud in the last five days, at least not in his hearing. “No male heir of the late High Prince’s body lives. His daughters have renounced all claims for themselves and their children. We were the victor in the war waged by Roelstra in violation of the law, a victory gained with the invaluable assistance of their graces of Syr and Dorval.” He paused and swept his gaze around the room, as if noting all those who had failed to give active support. “And by the rights of this victory in war we lay claim to Princemarch, all its lands, holdings, titles, trade, and wealth. We make this claim not for ourselves, but for our beloved son, Prince Pol. Will your