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SHIANAN’S FIRST THOUGHT as he entered was that someone had moved the great portrait from its prominent palace corridor. Then he saw she was no portrait, and he realized he had entered the wrong room. He fell into a bow and retreated a step, hoping for quick escape, but Ethan was already closing the door behind him.
No, he had been brought deliberately to this. He collapsed more than knelt and dropped his head low over his knee.
“Good evening, Bailaha.”
“Your Majesty,” he forced.
“Thank you, you may rise. I want to see you.”
He did so, keeping his eyes on her feet. Silently he cursed. How had he come here? How had he even received an invitation when the queen would be present? He drew in a breath, awaiting the worst.
Ethan was gone. Shianan was alone before the queen.
“I did not expect to see you here tonight,” she said neutrally.
“I—I did not know Your Majesty would be attending. I offer my deepest apology—”
She rose from her chair and started toward him. Her movement silenced him, although it should not have.
Shianan straightened and clenched his jaw as when he’d awaited an eviscerating scolding from his captain, as when he’d been verbally flayed by the king. At least if he was to be scorned and humiliated now, there was no one else to see it.
She stepped to one side and tipped her head to regard him. “You would not have come tonight had you known of my presence?”
He stared stiffly at the chair she’d vacated. “I would not have troubled Your Majesty.”
“Troubled?”
Offended, then! he thought madly. Why did she torment him? “I know Your Majesty would not be—pleased to see me.” He blinked and hoped she would not see fit to correct his understatement. Not pleased? I hate your odious form.
“No,” she agreed, “I was not. But you were a boy when I saw you last. Before you were sent away.”
“I was, Your Majesty,” he answered the chair.
She sighed. “Am I so fearsome as that? You needn’t look so—so military. I’m not one of your generals. I wanted to speak with you, not hear monosyllabic agreement.”
He did not know how to respond to that. He glanced momentarily at her, a fleeting impression of Prince Soren’s eyes, and then looked forward at the chair again.
She sighed again. “I suppose that outpost or wherever left its mark. Very well. What are you now?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Tell me something about yourself. I want to know something about you.”
“I...” Shianan faltered. How could he answer, when every promotion he’d earned, every position he’d held was an affront to her?
She waited a moment, watching him, and then she turned back toward her chair. “I think I believed you would be like Lucien. He was never acknowledged, but we inside knew it. The duchess’s extra son. He was an insufferable little pustule.” She stopped and looked at Shianan again. “He, at least, would not have been utterly tongued-tied when asked to speak of himself.”
“Oh, Bailaha can speak, my lady mother,” Soren offered as he entered by the far door. “He can wax quite eloquent on the subject of ugly pigherds, for example.” He came to stand beside the queen as Shianan bowed. “But I never knew old Baron Lucien was illegitimate.”
“You weren’t meant to know,” she answered. “And you probably believe he died in battle, too. Well, that much is true, at least, but we don’t know for certain whether the guilty blade was theirs or ours.”
Soren was visibly startled. “He was killed? For his birth?”
“It’s possible, though I rather think it was for for his wretched personality.” She seated herself again and gave Soren a significant glance. “For example, he was often inserting himself where he wasn’t wanted.”
Soren acknowledged the reprimand with a chagrined expression. “I only thought to drop in and see how you were getting along. After you borrowed Ethan—”
“I am quite capable of managing without you. You have guests. Go see to them.”
Soren made her a bow before retreating. The queen looked after him curiously and then glanced at Bailaha. “Well, he did say he found you an interesting man.”
Shianan did not know what she meant by this, but he felt somehow more vulnerable now that the prince had departed.
Queen Azalie put two fingers thoughtfully to her chin and regarded Shianan as if he were a portrait to be approved. He stood utterly still, almost without breathing, wishing he were anywhere, anywhere at all but here.
“Shianan Becknam,” she said finally. “That is it, isn’t it? Your own name?”
He opened his mouth and found his voice had fled. He nodded.
“Commander Shianan Becknam, Count of Bailaha.” She blew out her breath. “I must admit, I was furious when he ennobled you. I raged in Kalifi.” She quirked her mouth. “I overreacted.”
If there were a way that he could flee, without flagrantly disregarding all conventions of respect and obedience... If only there were an attack on Alham that required his defense—if the Ryuven were to besiege the Naziar Palace—if Pairvyn ni’Ai himself were to burst into the room—
“Shianan Becknam,” said the queen, “I have something to say to you.”
Shianan’s knees obeyed before he could think. He knelt and bowed his head, awaiting her scorn or her orders or her warning.
“I have been a foolish woman. It is not the first time I have been, and it is not the first time that my foolishness has cost another.” She paused. “What are you doing on your knees again?”
His throat worked frantically. “Your Majesty...”
“Get up, man. You cannot kneel to hear my apology, that’s hardly fitting. Stand and listen to me.” She watched him get to his feet.
His thoughts whirled. For decades he had been trained to avoid the queen, and he could not navigate these waters.
“Shianan Becknam, I once hated you. I hated you because you were not a person, in my mind. I never thought of you as a person. You were a living sin, a name, nothing more.”
Shianan swallowed against the stone in his throat.
“But you did not have a part in your birth, and now I see you for yourself.” She looked at him with cool eyes. “I do not pretend that I know you and like you. I do not pretend we shall be friends. I only know that while I hated the concept of you, you were in fact only a boy, a young man, a soldier, a courtier, and I have wasted myself in spite.” She shook her head. “Part of it is hearing his bragging, of course. It’s cruel to praise a bastard to the mother of your children, isn’t it? But that is another of his crimes, not yours.”
Shianan stared at her in disbelief. “Your Majesty...?”
“And Soren likes you, so that says something for you as well. I didn’t know; he’s never spoken of you. Perhaps he was worried for my reaction. Regardless, I hold his opinion in high esteem, so there must be something worthwhile about you.”
Shianan’s knees were weak. He could not speak.
“Bailaha?”
“I—I never meant to offend you—I never wanted...”
She gave him a small, grim smile. “It was never a matter of what you intended. But it seems you are determined to prosper here regardless of my favor, so I might as well grow accustomed to the idea. Perhaps you’re not the horror that I thought.”
Shianan bowed low. “I shall try not to be, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Now go out that door, but slowly. It won’t do for the prince-heir to be caught listening at keyholes.”
Shianan could not think of a safe answer for this, and so he bowed again and backed to the escape of the door.
As he closed it safely behind him, he saw Soren waiting a dozen paces down the corridor. “I’m sorry,” Soren said immediately. “I’m sorry. I had no idea she would be here. I tried to keep her from noting you...”
Shianan shook his head, confused and alarmed at the prince’s consternation. “No, no—my lord, Your Highness, it is my fault for coming here.”
“No,” Soren said firmly. “It is not your fault. You were invited, weren’t you? Then you should have come.” He looked down. “It’s all right. I’ll talk with her later. I’ll tell her something.” He glanced at Shianan, almost nervously. “Was she—did she challenge your invitation?”
Shianan shook his head. “No, my lord.” In fact, he was stunned at how—indifferent she had been. He’d never thought to meet the queen face to face and walk away intact.
Soren relaxed a little. “Still, I’m sorry for that.”
Shianan didn’t understand why the prince would apologize for such a thing. “No, it’s all right.” He hesitated. “If it pleases Your Highness...”
“What? Oh, certainly. Go back to the ball.” Soren gestured up the corridor. “Good evening.”
Shianan bowed. “Good evening, Your Highness.”
He was nearly at the hall when he heard Ariana’s voice. “Thank you, but again, no. I’m waiting—”
“Yes, darling, I heard, but you’re still here. He can’t be worthy of you if he makes you wait so long. Come dance with me.”
“No, thank you, I will wait.”
Ariana. Shianan’s spine elongated and his shoulders squared as he exited the corridor. Ariana and a young baron glanced at him.
Shianan pointedly ignored the young man. “I beg your pardon, my lady mage,” he pronounced as he bowed to Ariana. “I was detained, and I apologize.”
“Oh, you’re nearly forgiven, your lordship,” she answered smoothly. “Linner did not leave me alone.”
Linner squinted as he tried to work out if he’d been insulted or complimented. Shianan straightened and put an arm casually against the wall over Ariana’s shoulder, leaning near her. “How thoughtful of him.” He looked at the baron for the first time. “Then he’ll be glad of the chance to return to his other friends.”
Linner stared back, startled. “What do you mean to say?”
Shianan loosed his practiced commander’s glare. “I owe Lady Ariana a dance yet, and she would appear rude if she left you here alone. No thoughtful gentleman would put a lady in a position to appear rude.”
Linner visibly swallowed. “I see, your lordship.” He bit out the honorific with hardly concealed distaste. “Then I will leave the lady to your care for now.” He made a stiff bow to Ariana and none to Shianan before he merged into the crowd.
Ariana cleared her throat, and Shianan self-consciously withdrew his possessive arm. Before he could decide how and for what to apologize, she shook her head and smiled. “He wasn’t so bad as to deserve that,” she scolded gently. “But he’s probably none the worse for it.”
Shianan exhaled. “I’m sorry for overstepping.”
“I had him in hand, but I appreciate the gesture.” She tipped her head. “How are you?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I don’t know if I have the privilege of prying, but I saw enough to wonder.”
His gut clenched. “What did you see?”
Ariana’s eyes widened. “Don’t look like that! I won’t ask any more, if you want. I only wanted to—”
Shianan shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. What did you see that concerned you?”
“Only what was obvious. When the summons came, you looked as if someone had poured snowmelt down your collar. You walked away as if going to your death.” Her voice was pitched low, careful no one else would hear.
Shianan winced. “Was it so plain?”
“Only to those who were looking.” She hesitated and then touched his arm. “If I can do anything...”
“No. No, it was the queen.” Shianan took a deep breath. “The queen sent for me.”
Ariana’s fingers tightened on his arm. “She’s here? Did—are you all right?”
He didn’t know how to answer her.
The prince emerged from the corridor beside them, and Ariana pulled away from Shianan to curtsey. Shianan half-turned and made the obligatory bow.
When he straightened, Soren was smiling faintly. “That didn’t take long.” His smile broadened as he turned to Ariana. “Are you enjoying the ball, my lady mage? It is, after all, partly in your honor.”
Ariana was not practiced in speaking with royalty, but she made a valiant effort. “Oh, no, Your Highness. I’m only the most junior member of the Circle.”
“Ah, but the Black Mage is a part of the Circle, yes?” Soren grinned at her. “Enjoy yourself this evening. Bailaha, may I expect you in the morning?”
“At what time, Your Highness?”
Soren glanced over the swirling gaiety and one corner of his mouth twitched. “Nothing too early, I think. Or rather, nothing early to my pampered eyes, as early to a commander is probably not even within my cognition. Come when you will. Tomorrow I have no appointments before noon.”
Shianan bowed. “I will, my lord.”
Soren excused himself and went out into the ball. Ariana watched him and then looked toward Shianan. “You don’t look apprehensive at that.”
Shianan realized he did not feel apprehensive, either. But he was not sure he felt much of anything at the moment. The dizzying exchange of joys and despairs of the last hour had left him exhausted. “No.”
She waited a moment and then faced him. “Well, then, my lord, will you pay your dance debt, or must I go and chat with my dear friend Lady Bethia Farlyle?” She nodded toward the striking young woman casually intercepting the prince’s path.
Shianan looked at Ariana’s expectant expression and a little of the weariness left him. She was trying to distract him, but he did not mind. And perhaps he could feel something, after all.
He bowed. “Forgive me, my lady mage. A man must always pay his debts. And I think the Lady Bethia would prefer that you not join her and the prince-heir.”
Ariana raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard?”
Shianan attempted a smile. “It is quite the rumor, if even I’ve heard their betrothal will be announced before long.”
“No rumor, I had it from Bethia herself. It’s the most open secret in Alham.” She extended one hand to him, her chin raised in mock imperiousness. “Enough court gossip. Let us find music.”