“And there you go,” she said, almost wistfully. “You knew I loved you.”

“I loved you, too,” I admitted. “It took me a long time to realize it. I guess I messed up, though.”

“You didn’t love me enough,” she said. “Not enough to trust me. And so you lost my trust.”

I looked away.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not good enough,” she responded. “Thus, we are become enemies.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Too late,” she said. “Too late.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, and I hurried away.

Thus, I came to Jasra, in a red, diamond frame. Her bright-nailed hand reached out and caressed my cheek. “Going somewhere, dear boy?” she asked.

“I hope so,” I said.

She smiled crookedly and pursed her lips.

“I’ve decided you were a bad influence on my son,” she said. “He lost his edge when he became friends with you.”

“Sorry about that,” I said.

“…Which may make him unfit to rule.”

“Unfit or unwilling?” I asked.

“Whichever, it will be your fault.”

“He’s a big boy now, Jasra. He makes his own decisions.”

“I fear you’ve taught him to make the wrong ones.”

“He’s his own man, lady. Don’t blame me if he does things you don’t like.”

“And if Kashfa crumbles because you’ve softened him?”

“I decline the nomination,” I said, taking a step forward. It was good that I was moving, for her hand shot out, nails raking at my face, barely missing. She threw expletives after me as I walked away. Fortunately, they were drowned amid the cries of the others.

“Merlin?”

Turning to my right again I beheld the face of Nayda within a silver mirror, its surface and curled frame of a single piece.

“Nayda! What are you down on me for?”

“Nothing,” the ty’iga lady replied. “I’m just passing through, and I need directions.”

“You don’t hate me? How refreshing!”