There were voices and the sound of hooves in the courtyard. She glanced through the open door to see that Roric, riding Goldmane, had joined the king’s sons. His rather ferocious good looks, straight dark eyebrows over deep-set eyes, a muscled body always in motion, usually made her heart turn over, but today she felt more irritation than anything else. In the one glimpse she had of him he appeared carefree, and he did not glance at all in her direction. Could he have forgotten already?

“I had not realized your leg was bothering you again,” she said, turning back to the king.

He shrugged. “I have not spoken with you for nearly two days, Karin,” he said, “since I had to tell you about your brother. By now I hope you have adjusted to the news.”

Oh no, she thought. Here it comes. He’s going to ask me to marry Valmar-or even himself.

Instead he smiled and tucked a finger under her chin. “So sober, my little princess.” He had not called her that in years. “I know you realize this makes you heiress to your father’s kingdom. The All-Gemot of the Fifty Kings will be held at his castle this year. Would you like to accompany me across the channel?”

This was not at all what she had expected him to say. The All-Gemot, she thought wildly. She had contemplated it during the long hours two nights ago when she had sat up, dressed, in the dark, listening to the restless tossing from the king’s bed. If Gizor and his thugs had killed Roric, she would have found some way to accuse Hadros before the Fifty Kings.

She had not known the All-Gemot would be held in her own father’s kingdom. She tightened her lips. They had sent her out a prisoner, a little girl, someone less important than Hadros’s offer of peace. But she would be coming home a woman and a future queen.

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I would very much like to accompany you.”