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today.
    I sensed Aleksey come and stand alongside me. I opened my eyes and turned to find him staring openly at me. Perhaps it was a royal privilege, but he did not immediately turn away as another man caught so openly staring might. Rather, he continued his frank appraisal, his eyes resting where they wanted and only moving on when it suited him. I allowed the inspection. I was, after all, inspecting him just as closely.
    In this superb light, I could now see that he was not so changed after all. He was just clean and well dressed. He was, as I had thought at our first meeting, in his early twenties. The vivid intensity of his green eyes had not been a trick of the campfire light either. Now they were almost the exact shade of green as the translucent ocean—the edge where it lapped still and tranquil against the seaweed-strewn rocks beneath. I had no doubt these eyes could storm and rage just as quickly as could the sea they resembled. His hair was raven black and cut short, as I had noticed before. He had the skull for it. I had a few phrenologists in my acquaintance who would have killed to run their hands over that head. I swallowed, my thoughts running away with me. As to the rest of his appearance, the parts I managed to take in that day, he was dressed in black leather breeches and tall black leather riding boots, which had clearly seen some life. A white silk shirt topped the simple outfit. I felt overdressed.
    “You are very brown. Why are you so brown?”
    He, I forgot to mention, was pale. It suited his green eyes and dark hair—another incongruity.
    “I have been traveling in the sun. It is not uncommon.”
    He nodded, then turned with a gesture that clearly indicated he wanted me to walk with him. “What did you think of my father?”
    “He is very sick.”
    He scoffed lightly. “And you come all this way to tell us that. How grateful we all are.”
    “Sarcasm isn’t likely to improve his health. I will tell you that for free.”
    He glanced at me. Perhaps, being a prince, he wasn’t used to people responding to his lack of manners quite so forcefully. He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, and nodded slightly. It could have been an apology, or it could have been a mental note chalked up against me. I felt it was the former and let it go.
    I did frown, however, and glance around. “Does your wolf have to quite so obviously dislike me? Could he not save his snarling disapproval until he was not walking behind me?”
    He glanced back, clearly confused. “Oh, he likes you a great deal.”
    I laughed. “You have discussed me at length, have you?”
    He didn’t even smile as he replied, “Of course.” With a glance around to see if we were being overheard by the one or two couriers who scurried past, he added, “What do you need? For your… what is it called? Diagnosis?”
    Still thinking over his previous comment and wondering what else had been discussed about me, I replied, “Information. I cannot determine what is wrong with your… with His Majesty unless I have free access to the people closest to him. Also, I need to examine him fully.”
    “Of course. You are staying here, no?”
    “Staying here? You mean…? No, I am a guest of Mme. Costain.”
    Suddenly his mood seemed to darken. “Sorry, that was not actually a question. My natural politeness made me forget for a moment that I do not need to ask your permission. You are staying here at the castle. You must be available when you are wanted.”
    I was too furious to respond. I merely nodded politely, as I was not in a position not to be polite. “In that case, perhaps you would be so kind as to have someone show me to my room.”
    He stopped and toed the stone walkway for a moment, apparently assessing his boots. He idly scraped some mud off one edge. “I will. Follow me.” He strode off, the click clicking of his animal’s claws following him.
    I followed too. Perhaps I should have seen that small capitulation on his part and the