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knowing. “As you've already guessed, some subjects are more perilous than others. May I offer you some advice?"
    "Please."
    Jochi leaned forward a little. “Feel free to answer any inquiries the courtiers and ladies may pose to you, but beware of offering too much. In Rshan, sometimes a wrong word or a phrase spoken in a certain tone will give rise to rumors.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, rumors are harmless. They entertain us and they give the court something to do, but matters are ... difficult at present.” His eyes pinned Scarlet. “Questions about Prince Nazheradei are to be avoided, if possible. Among us, there are polite ways to avoid answering a direct question. I will teach you, if you wish."
    "You're very helpful,” Scarlet answered, carefully neutral.
    Jochi laughed. “Perhaps you have no need of my instruction, ser. I may have misjudged you. And now, it is only fair I tell you about myself; I am from a land east of Nauhinir. Tebet is its name.” He sketched a shape in the air with his fingers at eye level. “Here we are now, in the capitol,” he said, pointing to an imaginary spot that was somewhere level with his chin, and then his hand rose higher, near his eyes. “And here is where I was born. I lived there with my parents and brothers until I came to serve the queen. And you?"
    "I was born in Byzantur, in Lysia: a village on the other side of the border from the Bled, south of Morturii."
    Jochi nodded and poured more che. “Tell me of Lysia, if you don't mind."
    Scarlet laughed bitterly. “No, I don't mind. It was ... it is near the Iron River that stems off the Channel, and to get to the rest of Byzantur you must either take the ferry downriver or cross over the Nerit, or take the Salt Road further south. Lysia is isolated because we have the river on one side and the mountains on the other. The storytellers say that's why Lysia is the oldest village in Byzantur, because our ancestors retreated beyond the mountains to escape from the Shining Ones, and the mountains held a magic iron ore that repelled them.” He belatedly remembered the story Liall had told, and he hesitated, hoping he hadn't insulted Jochi.
    Jochi smiled, untroubled. “We have stories like that, too,” he said. “But you said was . Is your village—"
    A loud knock at the door interrupted Jochi's words. Nenos, silent and attentive, entered the common room immediately from a side door and stood waiting with that patient air he had. Jochi motioned to Nenos to open the door.
    A tall man who looked to be a little older than Jochi stood there. The man had a lean, almost sly face with grooves of self-indulgence deeply etched around his mouth, slightly narrow eyes, and long, braided hair of that snowy white color that Liall had said was associated with royalty. This man was more richly dressed than Jochi and pushed past Nenos like he was invisible. Scarlet went stiff with unease at this insult to an elder, and Jochi stood up immediately, which confirmed to Scarlet that he should be wary. Jochi and the man spoke to each other. Their tones were courteous, but also oddly strained, and Scarlet sensed tension.
    Jochi turned to Scarlet and bowed. “Prince Eleferi has dismissed me,” he said, his tone peculiarly tight. “So I shall attend you in the morning, if that is agreeable, ser."
    Scarlet rose. Another damned prince! “I don't want you to be dismissed. How am I supposed to talk to him?"
    "It's quite all right,” said Eleferi, stepping forward. His manner was oily and Scarlet instinctively disliked him. “I speak your language as fluently as Jochi."
    Scarlet was not reassured. So had the Lady.
    "Welcome to our land, ser Keriss,” Eleferi smiled brilliantly.
    Scarlet eyed the newcomer with distrust. “Thank you."
    Eleferi looked at Jochi and spoke again. Scarlet could not understand a word of it, but Eleferi's tone was edged.
    Jochi bowed to Eleferi and answered, then smiled stiffly at Scarlet. “The Prince Eleferi is