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privilege.
    Scribe Halimas eyed me from under his bushy brows, then flashed a quick grin. I’d never seen him grin before. “You have a comment, Journey scribe Emras?”
    The veins in my arms ran cold. I made the Peace. “You did not ask my opinion.”
    “Then give me an opinion of this. The Princess has asked for her own scribe. We have decided to assign you as first candidate—if, that is, you haven’t discovered you’re elas.”
    “I don’t have any preference yet,” I said, feeling childish and awkward.
    He shrugged. “It may happen later. Or you may be elor, like your aunt, which is a very good thing for a royal scribe, as you know. That is one of the reasons why she serves in Sartor as Colend’s scribe guild representative.”
    “Because royal scribes can never marry,” I said—trying not to sound impatient, since I’d grown up hearing that.
    He looked closely at me. “Some ducal families also require that oftheir personal scribes, because no one in a position of power wants… divided loyalties, let us say. I suspect a more detailed discussion of this matter lies a year or two off, though you’ve passed sixteen.”
    I made the Peace, internally shrugging.
    He frowned at me. “And yes, we know you should have another year or two of training. Eighteen is the customary age for royal scribes to take up their duties. But the princess wants a scribe, and you are the best candidate we have. We still have your public training to complete, and a few lessons about court, courtiers, and protocol, then you will be sent to her to see if you suit.”
    I trembled all over, wondering why they had not selected Birdy. Oh, of course. If he had inclinations, and they tended toward females, then he was out of consideration. What an odd thought, Birdy and attraction! A butterfly of hilarity swooped behind my ribs as I gave the formal answer that is appropriate to just about every situation, “I wish to serve.”
    Another impatient swoop of the sleeves, and the Senior Scribe was back to business. “At first the queen’s staff will continue to handle all state correspondence—such that the princess has—but you will take over her private communications, now that she is officially public enough to have a private life.”
    I smiled at the mild joke, though I still trembled.
    “From all evidence she has inherited her famous great-mother’s style and taste. Your pen work, your selection in paper and scents and seals is excellent. She has agreed to wait for your last lessons—she did ask for someone young, and understands that your training was not quite finished. Though you’ll continue to work with Scribe Selvad in getting your note taking to speed, you will also get used to public appearance.”
    He sent me to the Grand Seneschal.
    As soon as I reached the cool marble hall, Birdy appeared around one of the columns. He flung out a scrawny arm to steady himself, his beaky face joyous. “I was summoned just now by Senior Scribe Noliske. They want me to shift to the heralds. For training in diplomacy. And I’m to be part of the staff for no less than the King of Chwahirsland, who is coming to Alsais!”
    “The king? A Chwahir?”
    Birdy clapped lightly in happy affirmation.
    “You’ve always been the best of us at suitable persuasion.”
    Birdy shrugged, his smile odd. Then he leaned close and whispered, “If I do well over the next few weeks, and the Chwahir don’t take against me, I’m to go back to their capital with him. An embassy! I’m to wear amagic transfer token to bring me home in case of danger, and I must learn the diplomatic code, and everything!”
    I waited impatiently for him to finish, so eager was I to impart my own news. As soon as he paused, his expression one of inquiry, I said, “I’m in the last training before they send me to interview with the princess.”
    He grinned. “I hoped they’d pick you. I’d begun to hope so since winter. You’ll like a lifetime of cutting, writing, and