She snatched a floating tangerine from the pool and began peeling it, lifting the first golden section to her mouth and closing her eyes as the tart-sweet juice tingled on her tongue. The days were long and so much the same, with little to set one day apart from another. This day, at least, there was the bull dance to look forward to and, at twilight, the sacrifice.

Those diversions sparked her life with momentary excitement. Without them, Charis felt she would be driven mad by the unrelenting sameness of life in the palace. Now and again she imagined that she would like to run away, to disguise herself and travel the tumbled hills, to see life among the simple herdsmen and their families; or perhaps she would take a boat and sail the coasts, visiting tiny, sun-baked fishing villages and learning the rhythm of the sea. Unfortunately, making good either of those plans would mean taking action, and the only thing more palpable than the boredom she endured was the inertia that enclosed her like a massive fist. The weighty impossibility of changing her life in any but the most insignificant detail insured that she would not try. She sighed again and returned to the corridor, pausing to pick a sunshade from a nearby bush, idly plucking the delicate yellow petals and dropping them one by one, like days, fluttering from her hand.

Upon entering the long gallery which connected the great hall with the royal apartments, she saw a tall, dignified figure ahead of her. “Annubi!” she called, flinging the remains of the flower aside. “Annubi, wait!”

The man turned stiffly and regarded her, his solemn features pressed into a frown. Annubi was the king’s seer and advisor-as he had been to Avallach’s father, and Avallach’s father’s father. He was also Charis’ special friend and had been ever since Charis could remember; alone of all her father’s retainers, Annubi had always had time for a little girl and her curiosity.