«Go ahead and try it», Marie urged. «How else will you know whether you like it or not?»

Thus encouraged, Krispin plucked out one of the pieces and cautiously bit off half of it. But after a few chews, his grin faded to dislike and he spat it out.

«Fah! What is that? I thought it was made of almonds!»

«It is», Brion said. «Ground-up almonds».

«Then, what's this on top?»

«Rose petals with honey», Marie said. «You don't have to eat it if you don't like it. Why don't you give the rest of your piece to Isan, rather than waste it? He likes it».

«Here, take it!» Krispin said, depositing the remains of his piece in Isan's somewhat grubby hand.

Hurriedly Isan finished chewing his first piece, swallowed it, and popped the second piece into his mouth before anyone could change their minds.

«And that's all there'll be, for you lot!» Marie said firmly, replacing the lid on the box and setting it aside as she finished her own piece. «I'll save the last two pieces for people who will appreciate them. This has come all the way from Corwyn».

«From Sir Sé?» Isan asked, a gleam in his eyes.

«Actually, this is from my brother», she informed him. «A messenger just arrived from Corwyn».

Prince Brion grinned ear-to-ear. «But it could have come from Sir Sé. He really likes you, doesn't he? Do you think my father will let him marry you?»

Chuckling, Marie gave him a nonchalant shrug. «I don't know, your Highness. I hope so».

«I'll ask him», Brion said, drawing himself up importantly. «I think it would be a good thing. And you like him, don't you?»

«Yes, I do», she admitted.

Krispin nodded toward the letter now weighted down by the box of marchpane. «Is that from him?»

«Yes, it is», Marie replied. «And I hadn't finished reading it yet, so perhaps you boys could be about your business. What happened to your boats?»

Brion ducked his head guiltily and gave her a tentative smile from under the ebon shock of his hair. «We left them by the fishpond. Lord Arilan said we were scaring the cook's fish».

«Well, if you were sailing them there, I suspect you were scaring the fish», Marie replied. «And if Cook finds them, you know what he'll do».

«He'll stomp 'em flat!» Isan declared, big-eyed with horror.

«We'd better go get them!» Brion said. «C'mon!»

As the three bolted in the direction of the kitchen yards and the fishpond, Marie noted that Brigetta was still standing awkwardly by.

«You'd better go dear. The queen is always famished when she's come from meeting with the council of state», she said to the girl.

Smiling, Marie watched Brigetta as she went on her way. As an afterthought, she took up the ribbon from the wrappings of the marchpane and tied it around her neck, humming happily to herself. Then she took up Sé's letter, helped herself to another piece of marchpane, and settled down to read.

It was not until nearly half an hour had passed that she began to feel a little queasy. At first, she found herself regretting that second piece of marchpane; then she attributed a faint abdominal cramping to the imminent onset of her monthly courses.

She laid Sé's letter aside and rubbed distractedly at her stomach, thinking that it was a little early for cramping. After another minute or so, a much stronger cramp bent her double, and a sudden bout of nausea caused her to vomit unexpectedly — several times.

She felt no better when she had done so. As she tried to stand, her legs gave way beneath her and she sank back onto the arbor seat, overcome by a bout of dizziness as more cramps doubled her over and a burning sensation began to radiate outward from her stomach.

Instinctively she knew that this was no monthly cramping. Could it, indeed, have been Ahern's marchpane?

Or — had the marchpane, indeed, come from Ahern? Brigetta had said it did, but…

Dear Lord, Brigetta had eaten one of the sweetmeats, too — and young Isan! Had Krispin eaten one? No, he had tried it and spat his out — and Isan had eaten the remainder of that piece!

She fumbled the lid off the wooden box and stared stupidly at the remaining dainty. As she did so, the sickly sweet scent of almond and honey and roses made her heave again, gasping as she collapsed to her knees, clutching at her middle. And she also seemed to be having trouble catching her breath. She could feel a heaviness in her chest, as if a giant hand were closing around her lungs to suffocate her; yet when she clamped shaking fingers to the pulse-point at her throat, her heart rate was so slow and so weak that she could barely find it.

She thought to look around her then, searching for someone to help her, but there was no one in sight.

In the queen's chamber, the council meeting being concluded, the queen's ladies were helping their mistress to partially disrobe for an afternoon nap. Alyce was attending her, and also Jessamy, Brigetta, and Zoë. Muriella was tuning a psaltery near an open window.

«Well, ladies, it appears that the king will be able to return shortly», Richeldis said, pulling the pins from her dark hair and shaking it loose before lying back on the day-bed. «Alyce, he sends glowing reports of your brother, who has acquitted himself quite admirably, both in the council chamber and in the field».

Alyce smiled contentedly and settled at the foot of the queen's day-bed to remove her shoes.

«I would be surprised if it were otherwise, Madam», she said. «Zoë and I watched him ride against Duke Richard last autumn, when he was only partially recovered from his injury. He must be far better now. But he has had exceptional teachers, including the king himself».

«True enough», the queen agreed. «Ah, Jessamy, that feels so wonderful!»

Jessamy had begun massaging the queen's temples, and smiled distractedly, though she said nothing, for she had noticed that Brigetta was looking decidedly unwell.

«Brigetta, are you ill, child? You're suddenly looking very pale».

Brigetta had been pouring a cup of chilled wine for the queen, but set it shakily aside and turned away, clutching at mouth and abdomen as she darted toward the garderobe.

«I do beg your pardon», she managed to murmur, just before she was taken with a violent fit of vomiting.

Jessamy went after her immediately, as did Alyce. The queen sat up in some concern. Muriella had stopped her idle plucking at the strings of her psaltery, and stared after the stricken Brigetta in horror.

Together, Alyce and Jessamy tried to comfort Brigetta as she continued to heave, Alyce holding the girl's hair out of the way and Jessamy venturing a probe.

«Child, child, what is it? Was it something you ate?»

«The marchpane! It must be!..» Brigetta managed to gasp out, between gagging fits. «Lord Ahern sent it. S-some of the boys ate it, too — and Marie. Dear God, I can't breathe!»

«Which boys? How much? Where are they?» Jessamy demanded, as Alyce recoiled from the pain washing through the stricken girl.

«She's poisoned!» Alyce blurted. «They’re all poisoned! But Ahern can’t have sent poisoned marchpane!»

«Krispin!» Jessamy cried, for she saw Brigetta's memory of all of them partaking. «And Isan — dear God! They're in the garden!»

«Sweet Jesu, no!» the queen cried, trying to lurch to her feet. «Jessamy, do something! Find them!»

Alyce was already dashing toward the door, heart pounding, reaching out with her mind to Marie, calling, a part of her sickly aware that it was already too late. And even as she ran, Jessamy close behind her, she realized who had given the marchpane to Brigetta to deliver: Muriella! And suddenly, it all became horrifyingly clear.

She faltered, outrage drawing her back, but her sister's need — and that of the children, the innocent children! — was far greater than her desire for immediate justice.