The Scholar was there acting as witness and recorder. I had noticed he seemed especially eager for me to be on my way, rushing through his ledger, nervously shifting from one foot to another. I found it curious, since the Scholar was usually rigid and assertive in all his dealings with me. Just before I walked out the door, I was slammed with a thought—you have secrets—and I spun around. I saw the surprise on both their faces.

“Why have you always hated me?” I had asked.

The Scholar froze, deferring to the Chancellor. The Chancellor couldn’t even be bothered to look at me when he answered and went back to reviewing the ledger. He clucked like I was a foolish twit, and then in his snipped dismissive voice he said, “You’ve always asked the wrong questions, Princess. Maybe you should ask why I would have any reason to like you?” But the Scholar never moved, never took his eyes off me, as if he was waiting to see what I would do next.

Walther listened attentively. I explained how I turned our encounter over and over in my head as I stewed in my dressing chamber that afternoon, and the words hit me again. You have secrets. Of course they did, and I headed straight for the Scholar’s offices, since I knew he was at the abbey.

“It wasn’t hard to find, a false drawer on a bureau and one of my long hairpins easily picked the simple lock.”

“Are you going to leave me waiting in suspense? What did you steal?”

“That’s the strange part. I’m not sure.”

He cocked his head to the side, smirking, as if I was being coy.

“Truly, Walther. It was a few loose papers and two small books. Very thin old volumes. They were wrapped in a soft leather sleeve and placed in a gold box, but I can’t read either of them. They’re in ancient or foreign tongues.”

“Why would he hide them? He has his stable of lackeys who could translate them.”

“Unless they already did.” Which meant they should be part of the official collection. All recovered artifacts from ruins belonged to the realm, even ones found by soldiers in distant lands. It was a crime to secrete them away.

We both knew the Scholar was the Royal Scholar for good reason. He was not only the expert on the Morrighan Book of Holy Text but was also well versed in the translation of other ancient languages—though maybe not as gifted as some supposed. I had seen him stumble in some of the simplest dialects, and when corrected by me, he’d been undone with anger.

“Why don’t you translate them?”

“And just when would I have the leisure, my dear Prince Walther? Between being a fugitive princess, the caretaker of three donkeys, sweeping out rooms, and serving meals, I’m lucky if I have time to bathe. We aren’t all leading the regal life.” I used my most royal haughty tone, making him laugh. I didn’t mention my other activities, like berry picking with handsome young men. “Besides,” I added, “translating isn’t a small task when one has no knowledge of the language. The only clues I have are cataloging notations in the loose papers. One of the volumes is titled Ve Feray Daclara au Gaudrel, and the other is from Venda.”

“A volume from Venda? The barbarians read?”

I smiled. “Well, at least at one time they did. It might very well be the jeweled gold box that they were in that the Chancellor is so sorely missing. Its worth alone would probably allow him to add yet another wing to his sprawling country manor.”

“Or maybe it’s a new find, and the Scholar’s afraid you’ll translate it first and steal his thunder. He does have his position to keep secure.”

“Maybe,” I answered. But somehow I was sure the volumes weren’t new, that they had been hidden in that dark drawer for a very long time, maybe so long even the Scholar had forgotten them.

Walther squeezed my hand. “Be careful, Lia,” he said solemnly. “Whatever the reason, they want it back very much. I’ll discreetly nose around when I get back and see if Mother or Father knows anything about it. Or maybe the Viceregent.”

“Don’t let on that you’ve seen me!”

“Discreetly,” he repeated.

I nodded. “Enough about the Scholar,” I said. The conversation was becoming too somber, and I wanted to enjoy this gift of time with Walther. “Tell me other news from home.”

He looked down for a moment and then smiled.

“What?” I demanded. “Tell me!”

His eyes glistened. “Greta is … I’m going to be a father.”

I looked at him, unable to speak. I had never seen my brother quite so happy, not even on his wedding day, when he nervously tugged at his coat and Bryn had to keep jabbing him to stop. He glowed the way an expectant mother would. Walther, a father. And what a remarkable one he would be.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” he asked.

I burst into joyous laughter and hugged him, asking him question after question. Yes, Greta was doing just fine. The baby was expected in December. He didn’t care, boy or girl, maybe they’d get lucky and have both. Yes, he was so happy, so in love, so ready to begin a family with Greta. Right now they were stopping over in Luiseveque, which was how he was able to come to Terravin. They were on their way to Greta’s parents’ manor in the south, where she would stay on while he left to fulfill his last patrol. Then before the baby was born, they would return to Civica, and then, and then, and then …

I worked to hide the unexpected sadness growing in me as it dawned that none of the events he mentioned would include me. Because of my new life in hiding, I might never know my first niece or nephew, though if I had been dispatched to the outer reaches of Dalbreck, my chances would have been no better of ever seeing this child.

I stared at my brother, his nose slightly crooked, his eyes set deep, his cheeks dimpled with joy, twenty-three and more man than boy now, broad strong shoulders for holding a child, already becoming a father right before my eyes. I looked at his happiness, and mine returned. That was how it had always been. Walther always cheered me when no one else could.

He talked on, and I hardly noticed the forest darkening around us until he jumped up. “We both need to go. Will you be all right on your own?”

“I nearly sliced you in two when I first got here,” I said, patting my sheathed knife.

“Keeping up your practice?”

“Not a bit, I’m afraid.”

I stooped to pick up the blanket, but he stopped me, grabbing my arm gently and shaking his head. “It’s not right that you had to practice in private, Lia. When I’m king, things will be different.”

“You plan on seizing the throne soon?” I teased.

He smiled. “The time will come. But promise me in the meantime to keep up your practice.”

I nodded. “I promise.”

“Hurry, then, before it gets dark.”

We gathered up the blanket and basket, and he kissed my cheek. “You’re happy with your new life here?”

“I could only be happier if you, Bryn, and Regan were here with me.”

“Patience, Lia. We’ll figure out something. Here, take this,” he said, shoving the basket into my hands. “A little morsel in the bottom to tide you over. I’ll stop in again before I leave on patrol. Stay safe until then.”

I nodded, mulling over the realization that he had so many responsibilities now—husband, father, soldier—and ultimately heir to the throne. He shouldn’t have to fit worries of me in there too, but I was glad he did. “Give Greta my love and glad tidings.”

“I will.” He turned to leave, but I blurted out another question, unable to let him go.

“Walther, when was it that you knew you loved Greta?”

The look that always descended on him when he spoke of Greta, settled over him like a silken cloud. He sighed. “I knew the minute I laid eyes on her.”

My face must have betrayed my disappointment. He reached out and pinched my chin. “I know the arranged marriage planted seeds of doubt for you, but someone will come along, someone worthy of you. And you’ll know it the minute you meet him.”