they’d stop bowing.
As if her disdain for the custom couldn’t get any worse, Myth and her guards entered the palace and happened to encounter Lady Tari and Princess Gwendafyn—each carrying a baby, Gwendafyn’s twin daughter and son. Behind them trailed Gwendafyn’s quiet squire, Wulf, carrying what appeared to be an armful of baby blankets.
“Good morning, Your Royal Highness!” Lady Tari dipped in an elegant curtsy, holding the bundled baby secure with the ease of an experienced parent.
“Good morning, Your Royal Highness, Crown Princess Mythlan.” Gwendafyn’s smile was extra mischievous as she dipped into a curtsy.
“Lady Tari, My Princess Gwendafyn.” Mythlan went out of her way to bow deeply to Gwendafyn.
“Oh, no, no, the honor is mine, Crown Princess!” Gwendafyn executed an even deeper curtsy.
“No, I insist, the honor, pleasure, and greater admiration for you is all mine, My Princess.” Mythlan bowed deeper.
“Wulf, can you hold Cyderren? I can’t curtsy any deeper and hold her,” Gwendafyn said.
Lady Tari tipped her head back and laughed deeply. “By the light of the Evening Stars—you two will never settle this, will you?”
“I think not,” Gwendafyn said. “She is the crown princess, one day to become the queen.”
“And Princess Gwendafyn will forever remain My Princess, and my superior,” Myth said with equal firmness.
“Court functions have gotten much livelier since you were crowned, Mythlan,” Tari laughed. “And I can imagine it’s only going to get better!”
“Are we keeping you from something?” Gwendafyn gently rocked her daughter—who was only a few weeks old. “Seer Ringali mentioned he has another meeting with you regarding the study of High Elf runes today…”
“It’s nothing urgent. I am simply going to meet Arvel in the library,” Mythlan said. “He’s inspecting the last of the renovations.”
“The library is fixed, then?” Tari asked.
“Yes. There will be an official ceremony marking the occasion next week, I believe,” Myth said.
Gwendafyn turned around to peer back at Wulf, who nodded. “You are set to attend, Your Highness,” he told her in his gravelly voice.
“Splendid!” Gwendafyn smiled brightly, her purple eyes glowing. “I never miss a chance to pay homage to Their Royal Highnesses, Crown Prince and Princess—”
“Don’t curtsy again,” Myth begged.
Gwendafyn laughed. “Fine, but just this once, since I know you must be eager to see the library. Have a lovely morning, Myth.”
“Thank you, you too—Fyn, Tari, Wulf.” Myth met each of their gazes and fought the urge to address her hero by her full name. She smiled and walked off at a faster pace than usual—she didn’t want to give Gwendafyn the time to curtsy at her back—and trundled through the palace.
She stopped in Arvel’s study just long enough to cast off her cloak before marching the short distance to the library.
As usual, she felt calmer the moment she entered the library. The smoky smell had been driven out by the wizards and enchanters months ago, and since the skylights had been replaced, the building was nearly back to normal, lacking only the books and artifacts that had burned in the blaze.
Myth led her guards, tracing the familiar path up to the second floor. Sure enough, when she reached the top step, she heard Arvel’s animated voice and the lowered tones of someone replying to him. She wound around a few bookshelves—all of them brand new and still smelling faintly of varnish—when she came upon her husband talking and laughing with a Calnorian librarian and Wizard Edvin.
Blaise stood a few steps behind Wizard Edvin, her master, and when she spotted Myth she grinned. She glanced at her teacher, but apparently thought better of leaving his side because she mouthed to her, “Are we on for tomorrow night?”
Myth smiled in return and nodded. Princess or not, she’d kept up her pattern of meeting with Blaise—although now she was always accompanied by a squad of Honor Guards who wore plain clothes and supposedly blended in.
Blaise took a step in Myth’s direction, but Wizard Edvin—oblivious as ever—finished his bow to Arvel and then whisked her off deeper into the library, probably to finish some spells.
Myth slowly approached Arvel, giving him time to finish his conversation with the librarian and make his farewells before she gently bumped him.
Arvel grinned down at her. “Good morning, Myth. You saw the caravan off?” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Even though they’d been married for months, Myth still blushed. She cleared her throat and nodded to the librarian, who merrily waved as she scuttled past the Honor Guards, making her escape. “Yes, their exit was a success. They will do fine. How