Above us, the brass choir began to play, and we went to our seats, the king at the head of the main table and the queen, with the prince in her lap, at the foot.

The king had said nothing to the queen in my hearing about a vacation. I glanced again toward the chaplain, whose place was directly across the table from mine. He gave a slight shrug, with no better idea than I. Could the king really be planning to leave Yurt?

Servants brought steaming trays from the kitchen, and we all began to eat, too hungry for more than minimal conversation. It was early summer when the days are longest, and yet the sun was setting outside. But as we reached dessert, people settled back more comfortably to talk. I sat at the table, as I always did, with the queen’s aunt on my right side and the king’s nephew on my left.

Dominic, royal nephew and presumptive heir until the birth of the baby prince, was built along the lines of a bear, large and solid. The layer of fat that had begun to replace his muscles did not conceal the fact that plenty of muscle still remained. Like a bear too, he moved slowly-these last few months especially-but there was always the suggestion that he could move very rapidly if he wanted to.

The Lady Maria, on the other hand, gave an impression of constant motion even when quite still. Although in the two years since I had come to Yurt her golden curls had turned a rather attractive ash gray, and she had given up lacy gowns for dark colors and severe styles, her manner still verged on the girlish.

“I’m always so impressed with King Haimeric when he gives judgment,” she told me. “He cuts right through to the truth!”

“He certainly had a complicated case this afternoon,” I agreed.

“I’m sure it’s a great help to him to have the assistance of a Royal Wizard at his side!” she added with a smile. “Our old wizard hardly ever assisted in legal affairs.”