"It is hard to mistake the Queen's dislike," Cyrene told her.

"Yes, Kaliana is one not to be reckoned with, even on her best day," she said through gritted teeth. "She is infuriating, that one. I'd steer clear of her if you can."

"Easier said than done."

"I could have you moved into my duties," Daufina offered, seemingly offhand.

As much as Cyrene wanted to work with the Consort, she couldn't accept Daufina's offer. She would just be switching hands from one woman to another, and both wanted to control her. At least Daufina was open about it, but it still didn't excuse the fact that the women had similar agendas.

"While I appreciate the offer, I think I will stay with the Queen-at least until I finish my latest a.s.signment."

"As you wish. The offer is always open to you. Now, the matter with Edric. I think his interest in you goes beyond your physical beauty. He does not dole out his affection lightly, and if you are important to him, then you are important to me."

Cyrene had no idea what to say. I'm important to the King?

"You will join us on his vessel?"

She knew that she couldn't actually refuse, but Daufina wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important, which meant she had some bargaining power.

"Can Maelia come with me?" Cyrene asked.

"Maelia? My Maelia?" Daufina asked in surprise. "I did not realize you two were acquainted."

Cyrene could never figure out how no one ever saw Maelia when they were together. "Yes, we're together all the time."

"Well, I don't see why not. I'll change it to two rooms then. Is there anything else you'll require?" Daufina asked dryly. A note in her voice said Cyrene was pushing her luck if she kept trying to negotiate.

"No, Daufina. Thank you for considering me."

"No, Cyrene, thank you. I cannot wait for our procession together." Daufina clasped their hands together.

Even though Consort Daufina had given her much to think about, especially regarding what entertaining the King would entail, the only thing on her mind was how to let Jardana and her minions know that she was going to be seated with Edric on his vessel while they trailed behind on the Queen's ship.

Cyrene laughed to herself as she thought about Jardana's comment about Cyrene being on a smaller vessel than the Queen's.

A smaller ship indeed, thanks to my newly acquired position.

With a sigh, Daufina watched the girl leave her office. Cyrene was too young to be dealing with this sort of court maneuvering. Though she wore her strength like Edric's cloak around her shoulders, she had so much to learn. Daufina worried about subjecting her to this, to breaking the innocence of a girl who had just come into adulthood, but she would do what was necessary for Byern, for Edric. She always had done so, even when he had been the King at only fifteen and lost and confused without his mother or father.

Well, he was not that child anymore. When he had come of age, he had shaken off all his father's advisors, who had attempted to take control. She was the only one he'd let in, and she would rest the weight of that on her shoulders to make this country run.

Exiting through a secret pa.s.sage in her study, she walked directly into Edric's war room. She could have taken the same route to his bedchamber, but she was certain she would find him buried under a mountain of paperwork as he prepared for the procession.

His head snapped up at her entrance.

"Ah, Daufina, come in," he said distractedly.

She floated across the room and then stood next to his desk, taking a peek at the trade negotiations he had before him. "News from Eleysia?" she asked.

Edric ran a hand over his face and then leaned back in the chair. "They will close the borders to all Byern citizens if we do not comply with their demands. Queen Ca.s.sia is sending her son as an emissary for me to meet with once we arrive in Albion."

"Are they still requiring that import taxes be lessened?"

"Yes. They're also asking that there be no goods searches. I can't stomach it. These safety measures have been in place for two hundred years, and they levy similar taxes on our goods."

Daufina clasped her hands behind her back and stared off in thought.

"What do you counsel?" he asked.

"Speak with their Prince. Perhaps you can come to an accord. If no compromise is available, then severe action will be necessary, Edric."

He pushed the papers away from him. "This is not the reason you came to see me."

"No, it is not."

He sent her a questioning look, urging her onward.

"You sent the Affiliate a cloak."

"Would you like one?" he asked.

His eyes were bright, and she saw a trace of the boy she had once thought she would love. Their relationship had lapsed into more of a casual affair when she realized that she had only ever loved the throne.

"You know that is not why I mentioned it."

"Then, why did you mention it, Daufina? I have a thousand things to do, and you're concerning yourself with one Affiliate."

"You have made it my business to concern myself with her."

"I've done nothing of the sort," he said, standing to his full height and looking down upon her.

"I see the way you look at her, Edric. Your eyes follow her, you dance the longest dances with her, and now, you're sending her presents. I've known you too long not to know that this is unlike you. You're not Kael. You don't fraternize with the Affiliates who parade themselves in front of you, hoping for a sc.r.a.p of your time. Yet here you are with this Cyrene. What is she to you?" Daufina asked.

At her question, Edric paced the long room. She watched him through the silence and wondered what he was thinking.

"You told me once that you would inform me if you wanted to take a mistress-"

"I do not want to take a mistress," Edric snapped.

Daufina straightened in surprise. He never raised his voice with her.

"I apologize," he said with a sigh. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Just talk to me."

"Would you believe me if I said that I didn't want anything to do with her?" His eyes were pleading.

"No," Daufina admitted.

"No," he agreed. "No, I wouldn't either. I keep telling myself that I'm acting like a fool, Daufina, but then I see her again." He stroked his chin as he tried to find the words. "She has this pull. When I'm with her, the throne slips away, and I'm just a man with a beautiful woman. It both intrigues and terrifies me." He splayed his hands before him. "I can never be anything but the king...but when I'm with her, I want to be."

Cyrene shielded herself from the harshness of the blazing summer sun and hurried toward the shade of the booths in the Laelish Market. Many of the foreign merchants were missing from their shops, and she worried that Basille Selby might have already come back from Levin and then gone on his way. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found the tent still up. The flap draped over the entrance, indicating that it was closed but not empty.

As Cyrene drew closer, she heard raised voices inside, and she sighed in relief. Someone is here.

"Excuse me," she called. "I'm trying to find Master Basille Selby."

The voices suddenly broke off, and then she heard rustling, followed by a crash and cursing. The flap flew open, and a man's huge form filled up the s.p.a.ce.

"Who's askin' fer Master Selby?" He fixed her with a sharp look.

She recognized the man from the day she and Maelia had come down to the market all those weeks ago. She had just forgotten how big he was.

"So nice to see you again," Cyrene said.

"We met?"

"I was here several weeks ago, trying to locate Master Selby about a book he sold me." She shot him a charming smile.

"I thin' I do 'member ya now." He scratched under his stubbly chin with one scarred leathery hand.

"Wonderful. Has Master Selby returned from Levin?"

"I 'aven't seen 'im."

"I heard you arguing with someone before I arrived. If that was not Master Selby, then who was it?"

"It wa' n.o.body. Now, clear out. I gots work ta do." He shooed her away.

"I can't leave. I have to speak with Master Selby about a book. I'm leaving on the procession in a week, and I don't know when I'll get a chance to speak with him again," she desperately told him.

Gather's eyes bulged. "Youse one of dem-dem people? An Affiliate?"

"Yes. I'm an Affiliate, so I won't have another time to get down here."

His jaw set, and he spit off to the left. Cyrene reflexively stepped back at the fire in his eyes.

"Basille don' deal with youse kind," he growled. His already daunting figure reached an additional height.

She gaped at the fierceness of his scowl. No one had ever reacted so negatively to her t.i.tle.

"I've no idea why you despise Affiliates, but I don't mean you or Master Selby any harm. I merely want to ask about a book." She reached inside the small bag she was carrying and pulled forth the book. "This book. Please, if you could, take this to him and tell him I have questions about it. That's all I'm asking. I swear by the Creator, I'll never bother you again."

He seemed to be weighing his mistrust of the situation with what she was saying and the book in her hand. "Youse people 'ave broke promises before."

"I don't." She looked him dead in the eyes as she shoved the book into his burly chest.

"I'm 'a regret this," he mumbled, taking the book from her and closing the flap in her face.

She huffed irritably as she baked in the afternoon heat. His reaction worried her. Every other time she had uttered her position, she had been shown much respect and deference. Her parents were always shown similar esteem. In fact, she had become accustomed to it. But this man had not only been angry with her, something in his face had shown that he was actually scared of her.

What could an Affiliate have done to that man to make him scared of me?

Cyrene mopped her forehead with a handkerchief and waited.

A short while later, he returned, looking none too pleased. He suspiciously eyed her up and down. "I dunno why he's lettin' ya in, but if ya cause any trouble, I be throwin' ya out," he warned her. "Here's ya book."

After tossing her cloak off her head, she grabbed the book out of his hand and followed him inside the tent. Under the confines of the tent, the drop in temperature was startling. She gazed around and saw that more than half of the books were missing from the tables, and a large portion of the remaining knickknacks was gone, but a few Levin-made products were on display.

"He's in da back." He pointed to a back room covered by a magenta curtain.

"Thank you," she responded politely. She braced herself and walked through the curtained wall.

The back room hosted a mountain of half-empty boxes on top of a surprisingly clean brown rug. A small desk stood off to the side, covered in rolls of parchment, a few pouches-one that had toppled over and spilled a handful of gold Byern pences-and two large maps Cyrene couldn't make out. The back flap of the tent opened to reveal a covered wagon hitched to a pair of brown steeds.

In the corner, rifling through one of the boxes, stood the man she had been looking for. He was exceptionally tall with an almost stringy, lean body.

"Excuse me, Master Selby."

He swung around to face her with a flourish. He wasn't exactly what she was expecting. Some might have considered him handsome with his slicked back dark hair, manicured beard and mustache, skilled long fingers, and general fluency of his movements.

"I did not mean to interrupt," she said.

"Not at all, Affiliate. Not at all," he said with a beautiful flowing Eleysian accent. He swept her a deep bow that would have befitted the Queen. "It's always a pleasure."

How interesting, considering the other man's revulsion at the t.i.tle.

"The pleasure is all mine. Please, do call me Cyrene."

"Cyrene it is then, and I am Basille Selby, a humble Eleysian merchant," he said with a crooked smile. "At your service. Now, how can I be of a.s.sistance?"

"It's a matter of this book." She showed him the cover. "My sister purchased it from you as a birthday gift for me."

"Fine gift there. Fine gift," he amiably told her.

"Yes, yes, it is. She said that when she purchased it from you, you said the book was for the Children of the Dawn. I was curious. Who are the Children of the Dawn?"

Basille, until that moment, had seemed every bit the cool, composed businessman, but at the utterance of the name, he intently stared at her with his sharp chocolate-brown eyes. He reached his hand out to take the book from her. He skimmed through the blank pages, his muscles tensing at the movement, and then he quickly returned it to her.

"Why are you interested in the Children of the Dawn, Affiliate?"

"Please, call me Cyrene," she reminded him. "You were the one who told my sister about these Children, and I don't know who they are, nor can I find any information in the libraries about them."

Basille snorted. "Of course you can't, Affiliate. Not in Byern libraries at least. The Children of the Dawn are no longer spoken of in this world...or many other worlds either."

Cyrene had a sudden flashback to the Ring of Gardens. The royalty present at her ceremony had said that they had held back the histories of their lands for protection. Could this be part of that history?

"What do you mean?"