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“Majesty . . . Siphra’s highest-ranked families will hesitate to enter a contract with you due to bloodlines. We know nothing of your past, sir. Despite your position as king, matters would be helped tremendously if you would give details of your family’s history.”
    Lord Trillcliff added hurriedly, “Majesty, this is not to say we consider you unworthy. We do not. It is obvious you’re educated and that you’ve the manners and deportment any nobleman would expect, but . . .”
    â€œBut what?” Akabe stared at each of his counselors in turn, making them shift and cough. “What’s being said of me?”
    â€œWell,” Piton affected a shrug. “It’s being wagered that you’re illegitimate.”
    Illegitimate? Despite his shock, Akabe laughed. “My parents would be surprised, my lord. As would the priest who blessed their marriage.”
    â€œThen, Majesty,” Faine pleaded, “who are you?”
    Did he wish to reopen agonizing wounds? To provoke accusations that might shake his court and set Siphra’s highest families against each other? Akabe shook his head. “I am the king. And I’m not illegitimate, though my parents are dead. Let it be enough. Have we received word from Thaenfall regarding the temple’s lands?”
    Piton cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Thaenfall is now traveling to Munra for our meetings.”
    â€œGood. I want the land sale finalized. The workers are on site—I’d hate to send them away.” Ela’s father among them. Akabe stood and sighed. Enough. He’d had enough for one day. “My lords, prepare your list of potential brides, and I’ll consider it.”
    Akabe marched from the room before his council could protest.
    Until now he hadn’t realized how much he’d depended upon Ela’s acceptance of him as a husband. She’d appealed to him completely, and Akabe had allowed himself to contemplate sharing every aspect of his life with her. If only he’d known she loved Kien Lantec. Truly, Akabe couldn’t fault her choice. Kien . . . Lord Aeyrievale . . . was descended from kings and had proven himself a true friend. Akabe only wished he could do more to defend him now in the Tracelands.
    Had Siphra’s formal plea been effective? When would Kien know the outcome of his trial? Akabe had heard nothing from him in weeks. Troubling, now that he considered the matter. Tonight, he must send a cipher to the Tracelands’ General Rol through one of his household clerks, by way of courier bird. Surely a reply would arrive soon. “Be well, friend,” Akabe muttered. For Kien’s sake, Akabe must abandon thoughts of Ela.
    He would not risk their friendship over a misunderstanding, no matter how deep the hurt.
    Doubtless the Infinite expected such goodwill of him in all similar matters.
    To no one, he muttered, “A bit of divine guidance now and then would be helpful!”

    His third day of trial. Kien glanced around the huge circular chamber, found Selwin, and smiled. Selwin frowned. Poor man.
    Kien settled into his designated chair, then glanced over his shoulder at his family. Father sat with Mother today. Ara Lantec, elegant as always in graceful robes, perfectly coifed dark hair, and lovely gray eyes, beamed at Kien. Beside her, Kien’s sister, Beka, settled herself. As elegant as Mother, but obviously pregnant, Beka threw Kien a sparkling smile. Kien grinned.
    Until Father lifted a commanding eyebrow, silently reminding Kien to be dignified and serious. Father ought to be glad he could smile. Kien exhaled, seeking calm. “Infinite? Help me, please.”
    The trial judge entered the chamber, imposing in his black robes, his lined face austere. Kien wondered if he himself would ever preside over a criminal court. Not likely after this trial.
    At least this chair was cushioned. No doubt he would remain