Voice bland, the functionary replied, “This is the only invitation I was charged to bring here.” Valmiru sighed when he heard that. All the servants would hear it in short order. So would Krasta, and that was liable to be ugly.

But Merkela nodded as sharply as if her family had been noble for ten generations. “Then we’ll be there,” she declared. The functionary bowed and departed. Only after the butler had closed the door behind him did Merkela let out something that sounded very much like a wail: “But what am I going to wearV

“Go out. Go shopping,” Skarnu said--even he, a mere man, could see why she might be worried.

But he couldn’t guess how worried she was. In something like despair, Merkela cried, “But how do I know what people wear to the palace? I don’t want to look like a fool, and I don’t want to look like a whore, either.”

Valmiru coughed to draw her notice, then said, “You might do well to take someone who is knowledgeable in such matters with you--Bauska, perhaps.”

“Bauska?” Merkela exclaimed. “With her half-Algarvian bastard?”

“She’s Krasta’s maidservant,” Skarnu said. “She knows clothes better than anyone else here.”

“She knows what I think of her, too,” Merkela said. “She’d probably get me to buy something ugly just for spite.”

“Whatever she suggests, bring it back and try it on for me first,” Skarnu said. “I know enough not to let that happen. But Bauska’s the best person you could choose . . . unless you wanted to go out with Krasta?” As he’d thought it would, that made Merkela violently shake her head. It also persuaded her to go out with the maidservant. Skarnu hadn’t been so sure that would happen.

Gedominu woke up while his mother was on her expedition to Priekule. Proving he’d been away from his servants for a long time, Skarnu changed him himself and fed him little bits of bread. The baby hummed happily while he ate. Skarnu wished he himself were so easy to amuse.