A knock on her door was such a rare occurrence that she flinched, then ran to it, pulling it open before asking who was there.

"May I speak with you?" Baron Peto asked.

She stepped back, eyes downcast, hiding all the clashing emotions his presence aroused. "Of course," she said. "Will you come in?"

He sat in a chair beside her dressing table while she took the one she'd been using. From where she sat she could see her own reflection, and noted how obvious the flush on her cheeks had become.

"I haven't had a chance to meet privately with you since I came here. I want to ask you if you have any requests to make of me."

"Requests?" No one had ever asked her such a question.

"Your brother tells me that you have some affection for a young guardsman who served your father. If you wish, I could arrange for him to stay here. If he deserves it later, perhaps even a promotion."

Marishka began to understand. If she'd been less embarrassed, she might have laughed. "Before he came here, he'd never been away from home. He was lonely, and so was I. Now that the fighting has ended, he's going back to his village. I hope they welcome him."

Peto thought of Mihael's dire warning about the fate of his father's troops. "He could stay if you wish," Peto said.

"He wouldn't want to," she replied.

"I won't be in Kislova long, but I would like to take the baron's place as best I can," Peto said. "I need to know the customs of your land, the stories told by its people. Could you help me learn?"

"I really haven't been to any place beyond Pirie, and that is only a few miles north of here. You could ride over to see it for yourself," she said.