Chapter 12: Saint Haruto

The great hall was full before the sun cleared the ridge.

Every servant in Varrhold stood along the walls, and the cat-kin mother from the sickroom held her little girl on her hip near the door.

Kaedan took the high seat in a plain dark coat buttoned to the throat.

He did not look at Shiori.

She stood beside the chair with her hand on its back.

She had washed, dressed, and put her glasses on straight.

Her shoulder ached where he had marked her, and it was a good ache.

The doors opened.

Six acolytes in white came in first, then the High Priest, walking slowly, his sleeves folded over his hands.

Behind him, with her eyes on the floor, came a tall girl in white and gold.

Sera Valtier looked exactly as she had in the Hall of Dawn, except thinner.

She held her right hand tight against her chest.

"The Dawn greets the Wolf Court," the High Priest said.

"The Wolf Court hears you," said the old grey wolf, stiffly. "You have the right of one speech. Be brief."

"I shall be exact."

He turned and held out his hand.

Sera, trembling, drew a leather book from under her arm and gave it to him.

It was heavy and old, bound in white leather.

"This is the Register of the Summoning," the High Priest said. "Every soul the circle has called in four hundred years is written here."

He opened it.

"I have come, with great reluctance, to name the man you call your king."

The hall went silent.

Shiori's stomach turned over.

Kaedan beside her went as still as stone.

"Lady Sera," said the High Priest. "Read the ninth entry."

Sera looked at the page.

She looked up, for one frightened instant, at Shiori.

Then she read in a small, clear voice.

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