«You know what they are, m'lady», Andrew murmured, in an even lower voice.

«Yes. Thank you, Duke Andrew». Richeldis gathered up her reins and shifted slightly in her saddle, deliberately turning her attention to Jessamy and the other women. «Come, ladies. I am eager to see my son, as I know the rest of you are eager to see yours. I am told that Prince Brion has taken his first steps, but I would wish to confirm that with my own eyes!»

Within an hour they were entering the demesne of Carthanelle, the royal manor, perched on a hillside that overlooked the River Lendour and Nyford town and port, to the south. Long a summer residence for the dukes of Carthmoor, it was rarely used by the incumbent, the bachelor Richard, so King Donal and his family were wont to use it themselves. Though discreetly fortified, the house was set within walled parkland so extensive that it gave the illusion of being undefended, with fat cattle drowsing in the golden paddocks to either side of the long avenue approaching the house.

When the new arrivals had dismounted in the stable yard, one of Carthanelle's resident stewards was waiting to convey the queen and her ladies to the king. They found him relaxing with several of his gentlemen on a shaded terrace adjoining the formal gardens, tossing crusts of bread to a pair of peacocks. Beyond, dotted among the wide-spreading shade trees, a scattering of nursemaids and governesses were overseeing nearly a score of children, all of them under the age of ten.

«Over here, my dear», Donal called, standing and holding out a hand to Richeldis. «Lady Bronna, please bring Prince Brion», he added, to a neatly clad middle-aged woman not far away, who was holding both hands of a dark-haired toddler as he took a succession of wobbly legged steps.

With a glad cry, the young queen lifted the hem of her gown and ran across the lawn to sweep the toddler into a joyous hug, showering him with her kisses. At the same time, Jessamy espied her daughter Seffira and her own son's nurse, Mistress Anjelica, fussing over a large wicker basket, the four-year-old peering over her shoulder.

Allowing herself a somewhat more restrained smile than the queen's, Jessamy made her way across the lawn at a pace more appropriate to the heat and her age and slipped an arm around her daughter to kiss her, also sinking to her knees beside the nurse.

«Hello, darling, have you been a good girl while Mummy was away?»

«Maman, you're back!» Seffira squealed, twisting to throw both arms around her mother's neck and bestow a noisy kiss. «I've missed you terribly. And look how big Krispin has got!»

«Yes, I can see that», Jessamy replied, nodding to Anjelica, who smiled as she gathered up the infant and laid him in his mother's arms. «My goodness, you two have done a wonderful job while I've been away».

«Jesiana helped, too», Seffira admitted, «but I did a lot, didn't I, Tante Jeli?»

«Indeed, you did», Anjelica agreed. «He's a good baby, m'lady. «Sleeps through the night, and hardly ever fusses».

«I am glad to hear it», Jessamy replied.

Quickly she inspected her son, briefly probing the tiny mind, then settled on the edge of a fountain with Seffira beside her, the babe laid across her knees. Across the lawn, the queen had shifted Prince Brion onto her hip as she and Donal spoke with a tall, sandy-haired man of middle years, brightly clad in red and white, who was standing with a protective hand on the shoulder of a lad she judged to be eleven or twelve. Two retainers in the green and black of Corwyn hovered nearby, along with a matronly woman in russet and a thin, ascetic-looking man in vaguely Eastern-looking priest's robes and a flat-topped hat.

«Anjelica», Jessamy said in a low voice, beckoning the nurse back to her side, «do you know who that man is, with their Majesties?»

«The Earl of Lendour, m'lady, and his son and heir».

«I thought as much», Jessamy replied, nodding. «Do you know what brings him here?»

«Aye, m'lady. He has brought his daughters as well, to be fostered to the queen's household. I believe he intends that they should also spend a year or two at the same convent where your daughter resides».

Jessamy nodded thoughtfully. «That will be Alyce and Marie. Goodness, I've hardly seen those children since their mother died. Where are they, Anjelica?»

«There, m'lady, under the lilac tree with Lady Jesiana».

Affecting only casual interest, Jessamy turned her gaze in the direction indicated by her maid, far across the lawns, to where three young girls were chattering with a pair of handsome, somewhat older squires, all of them seated on the shady grass and with the girls' bright skirts spread like blossoms. The youngest of the girls was her own Jesiana, the nine-year-old, dark curls loosely tied back by a yellow ribbon.

The other two were clearly older, but not by much. One was fair and delicate of feature, golden hair tumbling around her shoulders and bound across the brow with a rose-pink ribbon-fillet that matched her simple gown; the other, clad in tender leaf-green, had hair more resembling bronze. Seeing them there, all full of hope and youthful innocence, Jessamy was reminded of a similar pair of girls in a similar season, that dreadful summer of her own passing into adolescence, when her father had died and everything in her life had changed.

That long-ago summer had borne Jessamy betimes into marriage and motherhood — estates that had come somewhat later to that other girl, the heiress Stevana de Corwyn: eventually abducted and married by force to the man now standing with their son and heir, young Ahern. (The boy was, in fact, a twin to young Marie — Stevana's second set, though Alyce's twin very sadly had died shortly after birth.) In the early years, when both their families were young, Jessamy had visited her friend as often as she could, and had brushed the minds of all three Corwyn children. The two women had remained friends until the day Stevana died, miscarried of yet another set of twins that would have been more boys for Corwyn's line-but sadly, not meant to be.

Jessamy had seen Stevana's surviving children but rarely in the years since then, but she was heartened to see that they appeared to be growing into handsome young adults — and now, apparently, were being prepared to enter the adult roles to which their birth entitled them.

Thoughtful, Jessamy handed young Krispin back into the care of Seffira and his nurse and rose, smoothing her skirts as she made her way toward the lilac tree. The squires, who were wearing the livery of Lendour, scrambled to their feet at her approach, as did the girls, and Jesiana darted into her mother's embrace with a glad cry.

«Maman! We saw your ship this morning, from the tower atop the house!»

«Yes, well, there was very little wind», Jessamy replied, kissing her daughter's cheek and nodding acknowledgment to the older girls' curtsies and the bows of the two squires. «Young sirs, should you not be about your duties?» she said mildly to the latter.

The pair took their leave with alacrity, to the obvious regret of the girls, and Jessamy opened her arms to Stevana's daughters.

«Dear Alyce, and darling Marie, come and give your Tante Jessamy a kiss», she said. «Do you not remember me? Your mother and I were of an age with you when first we met. She was like the sister I had never had».

Relieved recognition lit both young faces, and the girls crowded eagerly into her embrace.

«Of course we remember!» said the shorter of the two, the one with bronze-colored hair, as she bestowed a kiss on Jessamy's cheek.

The blonder one simply laid her head briefly against Jessamy's shoulder and breathed a sigh of contentment.

«My, but you have turned into quite the beauties», Jessamy said, drawing back to look at them. «Alyce, you are the image of your dear mother. And Marie… lovely. Simply lovely. Stevana would be so proud of you».