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  Piro watched Isolt as servants fussed over the kingsdaughter arranging her hair in an elaborate coiffure. Since Dunstany left, she'd been trying to see behind the court mask to the vulnerable young woman who, according to the noble scholar, needed a friend. But Isolt had her flawless mask securely in place.

  When they woke this morning, a servant had delivered the message that Duke Palatyne requested a meeting with the kingsdaughter. Isolt had set a time, making him wait until mid-afternoon.

  Presented in the height of Merofynian fashion — her face powdered pale, her eyes and lips painted, her hair pulled back to reveal her high forehead, a circlet of sapphires resting on her head, one large sapphire hanging on her forehead — Isolt regarded Piro coldly. 'Do you have anything to say, slave?'

  Yes — unspoken words jostled to be unleashed — you let your father betrothe you to my brother so he could invade our kingdom while we were unprepared. Now, half my family are dead and the other half are missing.

  There were so many things to say, Piro could only shake her head. Since the stuffed wyvern and foenix had been presented, Isolt had withdrawn, as though she regretted letting her guard down with Piro.

  After Isolt dismissed her other servants, they waited for the duke in silence.

  When they heard Palatyne's boots in the corridor, Piro noticed Isolt's hands tighten on the arms of her chair and she felt an unwilling sympathy.

  Palatyne made Piro's skin crawl. He swept into the room, a servant following him with a cage covered in silk.

  'Isolt Merofyn Kingsdaughter. You may wonder why I have presented your father with many gifts but you with only the one slave. I was waiting for the most precious of gifts to arrive. Behold!' And he pulled the silk off the cage to reveal Piro's foenix. 'The only living foenix in captivity!'

  Piro bit back a gasp. Her heart went out to her pet.

  The foenix's usually brilliant red vest of scales was dulled and its tail feathers drooped. Its emerald eyes searched the room until it spotted Piro, then it gave a happy cry.

  'A gift fit for a queen,' Palatyne said, bowing over Isolt's hand. He kissed her fingers as though she was the most precious thing in the world. Isolt remained stiff and distant, hiding the distaste Piro was sure she felt.

  'You are most kind, duke,' Isolt said, but her eyes were on the foenix. 'It is much smaller than the stuffed foenix. Is it a baby?'

  'Two years old, hand-raised by the daughter of the Rolencian king.'

  'Bring it here.' Isolt came to her feet, approaching a step, as though she couldn't help herself. This did not go unnoticed. Piro hated Palatyne's gloating smile. 'I wish to hold this foenix.'

  Palatyne frowned. 'It's too wild. No one has been able to get near it.'

  'I thought you said it was hand-raised by the kingsdaughter?' Isolt did not miss a trick. She frowned. 'Perhaps your men frightened it. I will win its trust.'

  'I'm sure you will,' Palatyne agreed smoothly, then hesitated. 'But I must warn you against placing your hand inside the cage. One of my men has already lost a finger.'

  Piro hid a smile. She would reward her foenix handsomely for that finger. What a pity it hadn't been Palatyne's eye!

  Isolt returned to her chair, arranging her gown over her knees. 'It was so kind of you to deliver the foenix in person. Thank you.'

  This was dismissal. Palatyne could do nothing but grit his teeth and depart. Piro did not bother to hide her smile.

  As soon as he was gone, Isolt slipped out of her chair and ran across the tiles, her silk under-skirts swishing. She knelt on the floor next to the cage, oblivious of the damage to her gown.

  'The only living foenix in captivity,' she whispered, marvelling. 'Are you a boy or a girl, my pretty? Seela, run to the kitchen and fetch some food. I will win this bird's trust. Truly, he is fit for a queen!'

  'Palatyne's queen!' Piro snapped.

  Isolt sat back on her heels, looking up at Piro. 'I'm not betrothed to Duke Palatyne. Nor will I — '

  'Just like you weren't betrothed to Lence Rolen Kingsheir?'

  'I was never betrothed to him.'

  'How can you say that? You sent him your portrait, a miniature!'

  Isolt sprang to her feet, naked brows drawing together in a frown. 'I had a miniature painted as a gift for my father last spring.'

  A servant entered the chamber.

  'Yes?' Isolt tapped her foot impatiently.

  The poor servant bowed and spoke with his head down. 'Your father wishes to speak with you, kingsdaughter.'

  Isolt turned to Piro, holding her eyes. 'I will be back and I will get the truth from you.' She barely glanced to the servant. 'Where is my father?'

  'In the throne room, with Duke Palatyne, kingsdaughter.'

  Isolt stiffened, casting Piro a swift look. Suspecting the worst, Piro wanted to warn her but the servant was present and Isolt offered no hint that she would welcome advice. Lifting her chin, the kingsdaughter smoothed down her gown and left.

  Alone with her pet at last, Piro knelt by the cage, reaching in to stroke the foenix's satiny scales. He cooed deep in his throat and looked reproachfully at her when she did not let him out to play.

  'My poor boy,' she crooned and, as if that was a signal, her Affinity welled up, travelling down her arm to make her fingers throb with power. The foenix uttered soft, delighted noises in his throat as he rubbed his head and neck on her skin, absorbing her excess Affinity. It felt good. Only now could Piro admit that the build-up of power was making her edgy.

  When the pressure eased, she sat back on her heels, to tell the foenix, 'be good and I'll fetch food.'

  She went straight to the kitchen where she ordered a tray prepared for Isolt's new pet.

  By the time she got back it was nearly dark. Palace servants were running a hot bath and stripping the royal bed. After replacing the bed's silk covers, they sprinkled rose petals on the pillows and lit two starkiss-scented candles. This reminded Piro of Dunstany. Despite his trickery, she missed him.

  Being above a mere Rolencian slave, none of the servants spoke to her, but they did talk in front of her. The palace was alive with rumour of Isolt's betrothal to Palatyne.

  For privacy, Piro took the foenix's cage through to the bathing chamber, where the warmth from the steaming sunken tub would make him comfortable, and opened the latch. The foenix stepped out disdainfully, as if being caged had been beneath his dignity.

  Piro smiled as she rubbed his crest. Speaking nonsense words of love, she fed him, holding strips of meat up so that he took them from her fingers, laced with her Affinity.

  Lence had mocked her, insisting the bird was no more intelligent than a chicken. If only he could have seen how the foenix recognised her… but now he never would. Piro felt the bone-deep ache of Lence's loss and prayed that Byren and Fyn were safe.

  When the bird had satisfied his hunger, Piro let him play tug-of-war with her sleeve. For the first time since arriving in Merofynia she did not feel so lonely.

  Then she heard the outer chamber door close and running steps. Piro went to pick up the foenix to put him back in his cage, but he darted away from her.

  'Seela?' Isolt cried. Footsteps headed for the bathing chamber door.

  Piro scooped up the bird, just as Isolt threw the door open. The foenix gave a little cry of fright and she soothed him, watching Isolt warily.

  'You knew Palatyne wanted to marry me!' Isolt accused.

  Piro cradled the bird. 'It was not hard to guess, kingsdaughter.'

  'Ahh. How I hate that title! My father has betrothed me to Palatyne, but I will not be his prize. I will escape the cage just as my mother did.'

  Isolt ran around the bath, towards the balcony, which reminded Piro that King Merofyn's wife had killed herself by jumping to her death.

  'Isolt!' She dropped the foenix. He flew to the tiles with a cry of protest. Piro ran after Isolt, just managing to grab her before she could unlatch the door to the balcony.

  'Let me go. I command you!'

&nbs
p; Piro laughed. 'What sort of a friend would I be if I let you kill yourself?'

  Isolt stared at her.

  'I know how you feel,' Piro said. The foenix flew to land beside her, giving a soft cry of query, almost as if he was asking what was wrong. She took him in her arms. 'My father was going to betrothe me — '

  'You, a serving maid?' Isolt looked at the foenix, then back to Piro's face. Her beautiful tilted eyes narrowed. 'You're no servant. You're Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter!' Her mouth hardened. 'And you're here to kill me!'

  Isolt backed off, turned and ran around the far side of the tub, but Piro was quicker. She put herself between Isolt and the door.

  The Merofynian kingsdaughter came to a stop, alert as a trapped wild creature.

  'Don't be ridiculous,' Piro snapped. 'If I was going to kill you I could have done so a hundred times since I arrived.'

  Isolt's eyes widened. 'You're supposed to be dead.'

  'I very nearly was.' Piro shuddered. 'I saw Palatyne murder my mother and father. He had my eldest brother killed. He would have murdered me but I let him think another girl's body was mine.'

  'If you don't mean to kill me, why did you come here?'

  'I didn't have any choice. Lord Dunstany claimed me for his slave, then Palatyne wanted to give me to you.' She shrugged. 'So here I am, one kingsdaughter slave to another.'

  They stared at each other across the steaming rose-scented water and the immensity of it struck Piro. Now that Isolt knew who she was, one word from the kingsdaughter and she would be dead. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask for reassurance but, because she did not trust Isolt, she did not want to show any weakness.

  'I thought you were different, but I didn't realise how different,' Isolt whispered. She skirted the tub, halting an arm's length from Piro, her gaze on the foenix which nestled in Piro's arms. Isolt lifted one tentative hand and looked at Piro. 'May I?'

  'Move slowly. He's shy of people he doesn't know.'

  Isolt stroked the bird's back, then smiled. 'You were right. He's so soft, his feathers feel like fur.'

  'He doesn't like being in a cage either.'

  'I can understand that.' Isolt's voice cracked and when she looked up into Piro's face, tear tracks marred the white powder on her cheeks. 'Palatyne gets what he wants, and he wants the throne of Merofynia.'

  'That's not all he wants. He plans to be emperor of the known world,' Piro revealed.

  A bitter laugh escaped Isolt. 'And he may just do it!'

  Piro didn't think so, not if Byren had anything to say, but she kept her tongue between her teeth. She wasn't about to tell the daughter of the Merofynian king that the rightful heir to Rolencia still lived.

  'What will you do?' Piro asked. 'You can't trust Palatyne. He means to kill King Merofyn. He killed my father under a flag of truce.'

  Isolt pulled back. 'Of course you would say that.' Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'It is well known the Rolencian royal family can't be trusted. They are tainted with a streak of aberrant Affinity. Everyone knows King Byren the Fourth could talk to animals, which makes him little better than an Affinity beast himself!'

  Piro's mouth dropped open. Was her strong Affinity the product of mixing her mother's blood with her grandfather's? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, but then Isolt didn't know Queen Myrella had been cursed with Affinity.

  Isolt stepped away from Piro. 'Return the foenix to his cage. You are dismissed for tonight.'

  'But… what will you do about Palatyne? He can't be trusted.'

  'So you say, yet you are the enemy. We were warned that your army was massing. That's why Palatyne attacked.'

  'Not true!' Piro protested. 'At least, no more than usual to keep the warlords in line. We have honoured the treaty with Merofynia these past thirty years. It was Palatyne who broke it, just as he murdered my father under a flag of truce!'

  From Isolt's expression, it was clear she did not believe Piro. 'Palatyne is a crude barbarian who has conquered Rolencia in my father's name. He looks too high if he thinks to marry into royalty. I asked for time. I mean to go to Father and plead my case. He cannot force me to marry Palatyne.' Isolt gave an unsteady laugh. 'After all, I am a kingsdaughter!'

  Piro eyed Isolt uneasily. The kingsdaughter had rallied after trying to throw herself off the balcony, but what were her options really?

  While Isolt bathed, Piro made a nest for the foenix in a linen basket and sat it beside the daybed. She lay down but could not sleep. Instead, she fumed silently. Aberrant Affinity, indeed. King Rolen's army massing to attack Merofynia. Rubbish!

  What other slander had King Merofyn been spreading about her family to justify his own treachery?

  When Isolt returned to the main chamber, she knelt beside Piro's daybed to stroke the foenix and Piro pretended to be asleep. With a sigh, Isolt returned to her own bedchamber, putting out the light.

  Piro rolled over, thumping the duck-down pillow. Well, if Isolt did not believe Palatyne was equally treacherous, there was nothing Piro could do. She had troubles enough of her own. One word as to her true identity and she would be executed. Fear sat like a coiled snake in the pit of her belly, waiting to strike.

  She would never sleep.

  Freezing Sylion take Palatyne!

  Byren tried not to watch Florin's bottom as she climbed the trail ahead of him. Her shoulders were broad and her legs long, with a stride that almost matched his. But her narrow waist, the curve of her behind and the sway of her hips proclaimed her femininity. And wouldn't she hate it if he told her so?

  Ostensibly, he'd suggested they scout the trail to the secret pass over the mountain, in case they had to make a hasty retreat. This was true as far as it went, but he also wanted to make things right between them.

  Since Waterford Florin had been avoiding him, quite an achievement in a camp that consisted of four caves covering a space not much bigger than a ploughed field. When she did speak to him, it was all 'Yes, my king, no, my king.'

  It was driving him crazy.

  She came to a stop on a patch of snow barely big enough for the two of them to stand side by side, in the gap between two rocks large as houses. He opted to stand with his back to one of the rocks.

  Dusk had fallen while they climbed and now only starlight illuminated the night.

  'These.' Florin reached past him to pat the rock by his shoulder. 'I recognise these, my king. I haven't forgotten the trail to the secret pass.'

  'Just like you don't forget to hold a grudge?'

  She blinked and frowned at him. In daylight he suspected he would have seen colour in her winter-pale cheeks.

  'Have I offended you, my king?'

  'No. I've offended you.'

  The silence stretched. He'd been wrong about Winterfall. The noble youth had not had the strength of character to admit his fault. For some reason, Byren did not want to be wrong about Florin.

  His voice dropped. 'I called you a mountain girl. Was that the last straw?'

  She looked away, jaw clenched. 'No. You were right. If I want to be treated like one of your honour guard, I have to accept orders like they do.'

  He hadn't actually said that, but he wasn't surprised that she'd made the leap.

  'But you're not one of them. They're a bunch of untried youths, eager to win honour on the battlefield. You're more like Orrade. You see through things.' He hesitated as she cast him a swift, inscrutable look. Should he explain that there was nothing between him and Orrade? Nothing on his side, at least. He was on the verge of telling her, but he could not bring himself to reveal his best friend's vulnerability.

  In that moment, he saw he had been right about Florin. She was like Orrade. She was clever and pragmatic, but she was also vulnerable. It was her pride, her insistence on being as good as any man that left her open to ridicule.

  'You don't have to prove anything to any one, Florrie.'

  'Don't call me that,' she snapped.

  A grin tugged at his lips. 'Mountain-girl?'

 
Her eyes widened as she stared at him like she was trying to work something out.

  His heart picked up a notch and he felt his body tighten unexpectedly. Hold on. He did not fancy boyish women who could just about look him in the eye, no more than he fancied Orrade.

  He blew his breath out, at the same time as Florin blew hers out in a huff of annoyance.

  'Mountain-girl it is then.' She thrust past him, heading back the way they'd come. 'I'll answer to that, my king.' The last was thrown over her shoulder, a challenge if he ever heard one.

  Damn, he did find her fascinating. Now that was inconvenient. Luckily, Florin didn't have a clue.

  Chapter Ten

  Possibly because she was thinking about him, Piro found herself dreaming of him. Palatyne and the Utlander crept through the palace courtyards, keeping to the shadows cast by the brilliant stars. Palatyne was in such a hurry, the short Power-worker had to take running steps to keep up.

  'You've seen to the guards?' Palatyne was saying.

  'Yes, my duke. There is only the slave, Seela.'

  'And she won't object, if she knows what's good for her.' Palatyne gave a bark of angry laughter. 'How dare that little bitch ask for time? She means to refuse me, I know it. I could break her neck with my bare hands. One snap, like a chicken!'

  'But that is not why you are going to her,' the Utlander warned.

  Palatyne came to a stop and looked up. Piro recognised the private veranda that all Isolt's chambers opened onto.

  'Do not fear, Utlander. I won't let my temper get the better of me. I will woo her with sweet words, tell her I cannot wait for our wedding day, that her beauty has enflamed my passion. And if that does not work, I will force myself on her. After one night in my arms she will wed me to avoid disgrace.' He gave a nasty grin. 'Who knows. She might even enjoy it!'

  He took several steps back and the Utlander handed him a grappling hook and rope. Palatyne swung it expertly, letting it fly. It hooked over the balcony rail and held. He clambered effortlessly up two storeys and over the balustrades.

  Piro woke, her heart pounding. Starlight cast long oblongs of light through the balcony doors.