With a stately trumpet fanfare, the doors at the far end of the banquet hall flew open and half a dozen liveried trumpeters heralded the entrance of the king. Staden was resplendent in crimson and gold. The queen walked beside him, an older reflection of Berry. Behind them, Berry walked with her head held high. The green dress from the morning was gone, replaced by wine-colored satin. Tris caught a mischievous wink from Berry, and all rose as the monarch moved through the room.

Staden took his place at the table and looked out over the assembled crowd. "Nobles and ladies, honored guests," he began. "There can be no celebration grand enough to welcome home my daughter, Berwyn, in safety," he announced, and paused as a cheer went up from the crowd. He raised a hand for silence. "For her safe return, we thank the Goddess, and these, our guests," he said, gesturing toward Tris and the others, "who have brought her home at no small peril to themselves." He paused once more as applause rang out. "In thanksgiving for our good fortune, let the feast begin!" he said, throwing his arms wide with the same mischievous grin Tris saw so often on Berry's face.

Carina clapped politely, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Tris noticed that Vahanian seemed determined to break through the healer's distraction.

"I'm sorry," Carina murmured. "I'm just not in a festive mood," she demurred as Vahanian's attempt to engage her in banter fell flat. "I don't mean to spoil the evening for everyone else. You have every right to celebrate. It's just that... being back here..."

"I feel the same way about the Borderlands," Vahanian replied quietly, unusually serious. "I haven't been back there in ten years, since I buried my wife."

Carina looked back at him, surprised at the admission. He leaned toward her, dropping his voice further, and touched her hand. "The dead forgive us. I know that now. They want us to move on."

Carina was quiet for a moment, but she did not look away. "I want to believe that," she murmured. "I wish you could."

The silence hung between them for a moment, and then Vahanian lightened the mood by sliding his goblet in front of her. "Until then, the best way to join the party is with some strong wine," he said and motioned for the steward, who filled both their goblets.

"I should warn you that I'm never on my best behavior," Vahanian murmured to Berry, deliberately attempting to make Carina smile.

"I think that's why she sat me next to you," Carina replied, making an effort. "It would be impolite for her to douse you with her water if you get out of place. I, on the other hand..." she warned, and ominously fingered her goblet as her voice trailed off.

"I'm sure that wasn't it at all," Vahanian replied sportingly, with a conspiratorial glance at Berry. "She's noticed how smitten you've been with the tales Harrtuck's been telling about my adventures, and so—"

"Smitten?" Carina echoed, beginning to rise.

Vahanian caught her wrist and pulled her down into her seat. "With the stories," he added teas-ingly, grinning at her glare. "Smile. Everyone's watching."

"You're impossible."

"Now you're catching on."

Tris saw Kiara suppress a smile at the banter. "Want to take bets on a fight?" she whispered.

Tris chuckled. "Could be a close call."

"In a perverse way, I think he's good for her," Kiara replied as she tasted her soup. "I've never seen her notice someone enough to get angry before."

"Then maybe a fight would be a good thing," Tris conceded with a smile. "Although I don't know how we'll explain it to the court."

Course upon lavish course was laid in front of them, each preceded by a different entertainment. Principality, legendary for its rich gold mines, might not make extravagance a daily occasion, Tris thought, but its king certainly knew how to make an exception. Berry clapped in excitement at the veiled Trevath dancers, whose shimmering silks and belled wrists and ankles made an astonishing and exotic display. Singers and musicians, magicians and jesters followed, each attempting to outdo those who had come before. Tris guessed that it was only with difficulty that Carroway restrained himself from joining them.

Tris was surprised to find himself at ease for the first time since their flight from Margolan. He resolutely refused to think about the more solemn preparations that would begin in the morning, and focused instead on this opportunity to engage Kiara in conversation. She, too, seemed willing to steer clear of serious topics, and so they fell into a comfortable banter, comparing their experiences growing up at court, the intrigues and observations that only came with the overprotected, yet overexposed, life within a palace.

When the last course was served, Staden rose, holding up his hands for silence. With great ceremony, he left the table to cross to his throne, escorting Berry to stand at his side. "Before we lose ourselves completely in revelry," he boomed, "I must acknowledge my debt to our guests, and reward them for their service in restoring Berwyn to her home. Although there is no reward truly equal to the life of a princess, for their bravery, I beg them to accept this token, and to divide it among themselves as they see fit," he said, as four guards entered, pulling a heavy, wheeled cart draped with the banner of Principality. When they reached the front of the greatroom, they stopped and at Staden's wave, removed the banner with a flourish.

Tris gasped, and he heard his companions murmur their own astonishment. Loaded on the cart was a large chest, opened to reveal a literal king's ransom in gold and jewels. There was enough to set a man up as a noble, Tris thought, or buy the aid of troops to fight a war. Nor was Staden's generosity lost on his guests, for pandemonium broke out at the abundance, until Staden bellowed for silence.

"Thank you," he said simply, facing Tris and the others. "Principality is in your debt." His gaze stopped on Vahanian. "One more boon has yet to be granted tonight," he said with a smile. "Berwyn has told me of the particular valor one of your company displayed in her rescue, and for that bravery, I call Jonmarc Vahanian."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tris saw Carina elbow Vahanian to move from his seat, as the low buzz in the room made clear that even here, the mercenary's name might not be completely unknown. Vahanian squared his shoulders and sauntered toward the king, his manner making it clear to any who might have doubted that, even without his weapons, he was a swordsman and a man of war.

"My daughter informs me that you are liegeman to no king. Is that true?" Staden asked.

"It's true," Vahanian replied levelly.

"Today, in gratitude for your bravery on behalf of my daughter, I name you Lord of Dark Haven, master of its lands and manor. In return," Staden added cagily, with the look of a man who knows his cards well, "I do not ask your fealty," he said, and a gasp went up from the assemblage. He raised a hand for silence. "In return," he continued, "I ask only that you consent to be Lord Protector of my daughter, Berwyn of Principality, should ever she require your sword in defense of her life. How say you, Jonmarc Vahanian?"

Tris saw Vahanian look at Berry for a long moment in silence, meeting her eyes as if searching her soul. Then, when it seemed that the tension in the room could last no longer, the mercenary nodded.

"I will. But for her defense alone," he said to Staden. "Not lands or kingdom or wealth."

"Leave it to Jonmarc to bargain with the King," Kiara murmured to Tris, who chuckled. "Does it surprise you?"

"I guess not. No matter what Carina says, I rather like him." "Good," Tris chuckled. "So do I." The consternation that Vahanian's bargain caused did not appear to concern Staden. Or perhaps, Tris thought, Berry had warned her father well. "Agreed," the king pronounced. "Now receive my blessing, kneeling not to me, but to Berwyn."