Vahanian paused again, and for an instant, Tris thought that the proud mercenary might balk. Then, stiffly, he lowered himself to one knee, and bowed his head. Staden took Vahanian's right hand between his own and Berry laid a satin mantle over their clasped hands.

"In the names of the Goddess and by all the power of her faces, I name you Lord Vahanian, master of Dark Haven and champion of the Princess Berwyn," Staden pronounced, and the room broke into loud applause.

"Rise, Lord Vahanian," Staden boomed with a smile. "May the hand of the Dark Lady protect you. Go now, with the blessing of our realm and the gratitude of our royal person. All greet Lord Vahanian, Master of Dark Haven!" Staden pronounced as Vahanian rose to his feet and the guests broke into cheers and applause.

Vahanian returned to his seat amid a press of well-wishers and dropped into his chair with a satisfied smile. He turned to Carina. "Go ahead. Say it."

"Say what?"

"I don't know," he jibed. "But you've always got something to say."

Carina gave a knowing smile. "Just expect to see more of Gabriel," she replied sweetly.

Vahanian frowned, looking cautiously at her. "Why Gabriel?"

"You'll have to ask Royster. He was telling us some legends from that region and they were fascinating."

"Oh really?" Vahanian replied skeptically. "I'll have to check on that."

"Do that," she said with a wicked grin.

"You always get to have the last word, don't you?"

"Not me," the healer chuckled, becoming intensely interested in her wine. "Never."

"You're doing it again."

Carina looked away innocently. "Doing what?"

"Don't you need to go pray or something?"

Kiara leaned over to Tris. "How long do you think they can keep this up?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

He shrugged. "Probably all night. Care to wager on it?"

She chuckled. "Sure. Just take a little of my share of that pile," she said, nodding in the direction of their treasure.

The revelry continued well into the night, its formality gone completely once Staden took his leave, guiding Berry unwillingly from the room when the tower clock struck midnight. Carroway slipped from his seat to join the minstrels, and was gaining the respect of his fellow bards with an adroit show of juggling. Harrtuck and Soterius drifted over to the guards' table in the far corner of the room, and from the occasional guffaw, Tris knew that Harrtuck was well into his ale and deep into his stories. To Tris's amusement, Royster found himself the eccentric darling of the ladies, and passed the evening at the center of a circle of noble women, who vied for the chance to sit at his feet and listen to his tales of passion and valor. Jae, who had stuffed himself on the dainty morsels Berry had offered him, waddled over to Royster near the fire and edged himself as close as possible to the warm hearth, then snored contentedly, his back gently stroked by one of the more adventurous court ladies.

The musicians struck up lively dance tunes, and to Tris's surprise, Kiara pulled him onto the dance floor, urging him to join her in the spirited reels and circle dances that now crowded the open spaces. He had never considered himself more than an adequate dancer, though the duties of court had required him to learn the basic steps. Kiara, on the other hand, was an excellent dancer and he found himself caught up in her enthusiasm.

He exchanged a glance with Kiara when Vahanian pulled Carina to the dance floor for the circle dance that was forming.

"Really, you can ask Kiara," Carina protested. "I don't dance."

"Neither do I," Vahanian replied. "At least, not sober. But this isn't really dancing."

"It's not?"

"Uh uh. It's just like walking on a ship, only on dry land. And after a little ale. Like this," he said, pulling her into the circle and slipping an arm around her waist while Kiara, grinning broadly, slipped an arm around her shoulder. The music began, slowly at first, then gained speed as the circle wove and wound through the repeating steps. The formation split apart, and pairs of dancers whirled through the steps two at a time, keeping their feet only by holding on to one another.

Tris found that his own excitement had little to do with the pulse of the music. Kiara appeared to enjoy his company as much as he relished hers. And while he held no illusions about the future of his quest, for the moment, she seemed as content as he to enjoy this night. The music swirled around them, carrying the dancers faster and faster. Even Carina seemed swept up with the spirited tune, and once she let the music take her, she danced well, much to Vahanian's delight. The swordsman's natural agility served him as well on the dance floor as in the salle, and whether he knew the complicated pattern of steps before, he picked them up quickly, circling the floor with Carina as the music built to its crescendo.

Tris found himself out of breath as he caught Kiara in the final step of the dance, face to face, one arm locked around each other's waist, the other clasping hands in the air. Their eyes met, and she leaned into him, bringing her only a breath away from his lips.

"Do it again, faster!" a girlish voice cried delightedly, and Tris reluctantly looked away to find Berry clapping enthusiastically. The princess wore a plain spun shift and soft slippers which she had no doubt borrowed from her servant, escaping her father to rejoin the festivities.

"I'm out of breath," Kiara murmured, slipping from his grasp.

"So am I," Tris admitted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carina beg off the next dance also, to drop tiredly into her seat. Berry intervened, grasping Vahanian's hand and tugging the mercenary back to the dance as the musicians struck up another lively tune. "I could use a breath of air," Tris said.

"Agreed," Kiara said, and followed as he slipped out the rear doorway into the long, torch-lit corridor.

They walked side by side in silence for a while, enjoying the relative coolness of the hallway after the packed greatroom. They wandered for more than a candlemark, enjoying an opportunity to live only in the moment. At the end of the west wing, they found a small temple to the Goddess.

"Isn't this beautiful?" Kiara murmured as they looked around. Dawn streamed through two huge panes of stained glass at the front of the small, octagonal room. Four red candles burned on an altar, one for each of the light aspects of the goddess. Above them stood an exquisite marble statue with four faces representing mother, child, lover and warrior. The statue overlooked a reflecting pool, where the four dark aspects returned her gaze.

The colors of the stained glass repeated the theme. Red, the fire of the warrior avenger, together with the amber of the Mother, deep blue of the lover and the rich green of the Childe filtered the light in a shifting spectrum across the small nave. To the right of the altar on a pedestal was a basin for an oracle's scrying pool, and to the left, on a stand of gold, a perfect crystal orb.

"Despite Staden's welcome, I don't know if I'll ever feel safe again," Kiara murmured.

"That would be a shame," Tris said. "I'd like to change that."

"You might be able to."

Tris's heart was thudding so loudly that he imagined Kiara must hear it as he bent to meet her lips. For an instant she hesitated, then leaned into him, slipping her strong arms around his neck as he pulled her closer against him. A moment later, breathless, he drew back and looked at her in wonder. "You aren't afraid I'll turn you into a newt?" he joked gently. "I'm a wizard, you know."

She chuckled. "Jae would enjoy the company. You're not afraid I'll challenge you to a duel? I'm a 'swordlady,' you know."

It was Tris's turn to chuckle. "I rather like that, swordlady," he said affectionately. "Some party, huh?" he asked, tangling his fingers in her hair. She smiled. "It's been so long since I've had a good time, I was beginning to think I'd forgotten how."