Chapter 11: The Silver Pin

I came down the stairs in my night robe with my hair loose and a letter opener in my fist.

It was the only weapon I had been able to find.

Nan was already at the keep door with her arms spread across it.

"He's not coming in," she said. "I've told him twice."

"Good."

"I told him a third time with a ladle."

"Even better."

The man in the grey cap stood on the step in the morning light.

He was small and neat, perhaps fifty, with a fine pale face and ink-stained cuffs.

I had seen him all my life, in the corner of the throne room, behind my father's chair.

The court mage.

He had never once looked at me before today.

"Your Highness," he said, bowing. "The King sends his love."

"The King sends his rider with a case of knives."

"A small ritual only. The warding on your husband needs renewing every five years, or it fades. His five years ended last month."

I went still.

"What happens if it fades?"

"He would become himself again," said the mage. "Which would be an inconvenience to everyone."

He said it as if telling me the price of bread.

Garrick stood in the yard behind him, barefoot and bare-chested, with the royal guards at his shoulders.

He did not look at me.

His hands hung open at his sides.

I realized with a shock that he would let them.

If the mage said "the King wills it," he would sit in the chair and put out his arm.

No word was needed.

He had been bound five years, and he still believed in his own obedience.

"Garrick," I said.

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