Inside, Lady Fatinah's representative to Zanzair gushed on about all the arrangements he'd made in anticipation of her visit.

"You will see with your own eyes, My Lady, the man said, that you chose wisely when you picked Abubensu to tend to your business in Zanzair."

He gestured out the window. They were traveling through the bazaar, an exotic scene of demons and humans haggling with stall keepers, or munching strange delights from the food carts; of families strolling along, purchases in hand, trailing human children and demon kits in their wake.

"Zanzair is surely the most marvelous city in the whole history of Esmir, Abubensu said. Since our beloved king, Iraj Protarus, made it the center of his empire seven years ago, beings of every variety have flocked here, hoping against hope they can clutch the king's cloak and fly away with him to prosperity."

He raised a cautioning finger. But Zanzair is also a most dangerous place, My Lady, he said. Some who came were honest business folk, like myself. But many were thieves, both of the common and noble-born variety.

"And the intrigue! He shuddered. I can tell you stories about the intrigue and disgraceful goings on at the Royal Court that would set your teeth on edge."

"I'm sure you can, Lady Fatinah said smoothly. And I'd be delighted to listen to your delicious tales at another time. But I hope you understand I have other things on my mind just now. Such as the living arrangements."

Abubensu beamed. What a genteel and soft-worded employer he had. Quite unlike a woman who'd supposedly killed her husband. And so beautiful! Abubensu had never been this close to such a woman. She filled her expensive black gown quite pleasingly. Her lips were full, dark eyes sparkling with what he dared dream was promise.

"You'll love the house I've found for you, My Lady, he said. It sits on a hill, quite by itself. The night view of Zanzair is simply overwhelming. Especially the view of Protarus palace. It's solid gold, you know, and when all the lights are turned on and the fountains are at play, why you would think it was the heavenly palace of a god."

"The view sounds most pleasant, Lady Fatinah said, wiping the chin of her childa boy whose age was just past suckling and just short of speech. His name was Palimak, the Walarian word for promise.

"But to be frank, she continued, it's more important to me that it have a good nursery."

"Remodeled to your exact specifications, My Lady, Abubensu said. The grandest nursery ever created. No expense was spared."

"I hope it isn't too grand, Lady, the nurse broke in. She was a small woman, round and with a deep grandmotherly bosom. Large spaces can be frightening to a child."

"There's a separate room for you right next to the young master's, Scani, Abubensu hastened to tell the nurse. It's quite comfortable and you'll have no trouble keeping your eye on him."

Scani looked doubtful and started to speak, but Lady Fatinah silenced her with a warning look. The nurse took Palimak from Lady Fatinah's arms and fussed and cooed over him, making furiously whispered promises that no matter where he slept, Scani would always be nearby.

Abubensu went on. Your neighbors, he said, are all of wealth and breeding like yourself, My Lady. Their homes are close enough to give comfort, but distant enough to ensure privacy."

"I mentioned in my letter, Lady Fatinah said, that I'd like to host a banquet as soon as possible to introduce myself to Zanzarian society."

"It has been done, My Lady! Abubensu said with a pleased smile. As a matter of fact I've taken the liberty of arranging an affair two nights from now. Invitations have been sent to a favored fewall beings of quality, mind you. And your staff, which I picked myself, is at this moment readying the banquet."

"There was one person in particular I asked you to invite, Lady Fatinah said. Was that done?"

Abubensu bobbed his head. Yes, My Lady. Lord Timura has been invited."

"And has he accepted?"

He hesitated. Alas, My Lady, not as yet."

"But you expect him to? Lady Fatinah pressed.

The little man shrugged. I can't promise, My Lady, he said. After all, he is the Grand Wazier, second only to King Protarus in importance."

Abubensu attempted a bit of gossip to steer conversation away from disappointment. They were childhood friends, you know, he said. They even call each other by their first namesSafar and Irajwhen in private."

He leaned closer, voice conspiratorial. Although it is said that Lord Timura is not in such good grace with His Majesty these days. He has enemies who whisper ill things in the king's ear."

A dramatic shrug. Who knows if these things are true, My Lady, he said. Perhaps it is best after all if Lord Timura fails to attend. Why bring his political troubles to your esteemed doorstep?"

Lady Fatinah's eyes narrowed. I want him at the banquet, she said, and there was no mistaking her firmness in the matter.

Abubensu struggled with his answer, clearly at a loss. I will try, My Lady, he said, but I can't swear that it's possible."

Lady Fatinah smiled, saying, I have every faith in you, Abubensu."

She handed him a silk purse filled with coin. Favor who you want with those, she said. Abubensu hefted the purse, brows rising as he noted the weight. And you may keep whatever is left over for yourself.

"But make certain Lord Timura is there."

She turned to look out the window.

They'd come to a wide square and when she looked north she could see the blossoming trees that edged the Royal Gardens.

Beyond were the spires of the Grand Palace, glittering eerily under the ever-present Demon Moon.

Nerisa wondered if Safar would remember her after all these years.

"In the end, King Protarus said, it all reduces itself to money."

He snorted in disgust, an action much noted by the members of the assembled Royal Court. His snort would frame their discussions, dreams and nightmares for many days to come. Policy would be set because of that snort. Alliances threatened, reformed, or shattered. Thousands of miles away, men both small and large would tremble when news arrived of the king's sharply expelled breath.

"Every time I need to do something, Protarus said, I'm told the cost is too dear. And when Isimple plainsman that I amsuggest the solution is to get more money, why I'm told there's no more to be had!"

The king's glare flowed down the several-leveled courtroom. First it took in Safar, his Grand Wazier and second in command, next the platform where King Lukawhose formal title was Prince of Zanzairsat with Lord Fari and other important demons. Below were the Protarus generals and top aides, a mixed lot that included demons and a few of his remaining rough plainsmen. Keeping himself slightly apart from this group was Kalasariz, who daily measured the distance and height between him and Safar. Beyond was the main floor of the courtroom, a vast area of hierarchical flatness where some courtiers were known to wear boosted up bootheels so they could stand taller and imagine they held greater favor with the king.

"Someone explain to me how this can be, Protarus demanded. I am monarch of all Esmir. I number my subjects by the millions. All of whom seem to be going about making money and prospering, while their king lacks the basic means of running the kind of kingdom where they can prosper."

Protarus shook his head. My problem is that I'm too generous, he said. I made all my friends wealthy. Palaces, lands, money… Money! There's that word again!"

He looked at Safar. You have money, Lord Timura, he said. Why don't I?"

"You have only to ask, Majesty, Safar said, and I will give it all back to you."