Chapter 9: Shares

Kaelen stood in the light for another breath.

Then he hissed and stepped back, and shut the shutter with one hand.

The back of his hand had gone pink.

"How long?" I asked.

"Long enough." He flexed his fingers and watched the pink fade. "A few minutes. Then it starts."

"She saw you."

"She did."

"Can you stop her?"

"I could." He looked at the spilled tray on the floor, the broken cup, the bread rolling under the desk. "I don't silence maids."

By nightfall every house in Varrow knew.

I heard it before I saw it.

The keep was never loud, but that evening the halls hummed with carriage wheels and voices and the click of heels on marble.

Corin came to my door at sunset with his coat buttoned to the throat.

"You might want your good dress," he said.

"Why?"

"Because every great house in the city is in the throne hall, and they've all come to talk about you."

The hall was fuller than on Tithe Night.

They'd stopped bothering with benches.

Lords and ladies stood packed shoulder to shoulder in silks and furs, their eyes bright as cats' in the candlelight.

When I came in at Kaelen's side, the noise dropped.

Then it came back louder.

"Is it true?"

"He stood in the sun, they're saying, a full minute."

"Look at his colour."

Kaelen sat.

I stood beside the throne, because there was no chair for me and I wasn't going to ask for one.

A lord stepped out from the front of the crowd with his hands spread.

He was silver-haired, wrapped in green velvet, with a heavy chain of office around his neck.

"Majesty," he said. "We've come with an offer. A fair one."

"I'm sure you have."