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"I would welcome you to the Tower of Drakes."
    The king's brows bobbed up in surprise. At the same time Mother snapped "Taryn!" again, and she sounded terrified. She nearly toppled her chair rising, and she was halfway to me in one long pace before the king spoke.
    He froze her in place with one word. "Isabelle," he said, turning in his chair to face us directly. He had a strong voice for a man so frail. It had the bark of command I associated with Caleb, but without the bitter edge. He wiped his mustaches with a silk napkin, then smacked his lips and shook his head. "Dear Isabelle," he said again, "whom do we have here?"
    "He is just a boy," Mother said, placating.
    I stepped up to loom over the king. He had to crane his neck to meet my eyes, and that was well. "I am Taryn Dragonprince, lord of this land in my father's absence. I grant you welcome."
    His eyes narrowed while he measured me up and down. I did not flinch. I held my chin high and let him look. He'd already seen the black eye and the ruined clothes, but let him see now the man strong enough to stand unashamed before a king, even in that state, and welcome him as an equal.
    After a moment he spoke without ever taking his eyes from me. "Isabelle, you never told me you had a child." He scrubbed a hand over his beard, measuring me with his eyes, and added, "That Daven had an heir."
    "Times were hard, Your Majesty."
    "Indeed they were," the king said. "And yet this seems a matter of great significance. I would have much preferred the...opportunity to share in your joy. And there has certainly been time. He must be, what, twelve years old?"
    "Fourteen." I meant it to seem authoritative, matter-of-fact, but my voice sounded a shade curt. Reproachful. He frowned at that, so I made a bid to recover. "And for my part, I regret that we could not be introduced sooner. It seems a great oversight."
    "I'm certain you do," the king said evenly. "You are certainly Daven's child. Do they really call you Dragonprince?"
    Behind me, Mother tried to answer him. But he had asked me, and I gave him a short nod. "It is only a nickname among the servants. For now."
    His eyes widened, and behind me Mother grunted. A shadow fell over me, and I felt the heavy presence of Caleb behind me. For the first time, I remembered his intentions. I swallowed and steeled myself. "Lord Timmon—"
    "Your Majesty," Mother hissed at my shoulder. "We do not address a king by name, Taryn."
    At the same time, Caleb's hand fell on my shoulder. As soon as Mother finished, Caleb said, "Come, Taryn. You are needed upstairs."
    Mother hurried to say, "Yes, please excuse him, Your Majesty."
    But the king had never taken his gaze from mine, and now he waved them both to silence. "No," he said. "No, I must exercise my tenuous authority for the trivial, personal desire to know more of this young man."
    Mother started to object again, but the king silenced her with a pointed look. He offered one to Caleb, too, and the heavy hand fell away from shoulder.
    I straightened again, and nodded my gratitude to the king. "As I was saying—"
    "Hush," he said. It was not cruel, but he spoke with authority enough to silence a storm. "You offered me welcome to the...what did you call it?"
    "The Tower of Drakes."
    "Of Drakes!" he said, almost on top of me. "Oh, how clever. It used to have a different name. Did you know that?"
    "No, Lor—Your Majesty. I have not heard that story."
    He smiled again, and again it did not touch his eyes. "The FirstKing built this tower. Two thousand years ago. He built the walls around it. He made it by his own hands, and it was the foundation of his authority."
    He paused to take a sip from his goblet, and I thought I heard a growl from him before he resumed. "He united all the lands of Men. He built this kingdom from nothing, from squabbling little lords, and he wore the crown that now graces my unworthy brow."
    I spread my hands. "I'm sure—"
    "Back then it was called the Tower of Days," he said over