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“Boots, you say?” he muttered, adjusting his spectacles to
peer at Raven’s feet. “For him?”
    “If you have them. We’re rather in a hurry.” Ceylon pushed her way through
the door, pulling off her gloves as she went. “I’ll pay in coin, of course.”
    But when it came time to pay Uric handed the old man a coin. He looked at
Ceylon, whose hand was still in her pocket. “The queen is paying your expenses
now.”
    He was just as fast to pay the tailor, who fortunately had a few things made
up and ready to sell. This time Uric bade Ceylon to wait in the coach to save
time. Bare moments later he sent the beaming Raven out with an armful of
clothes. Nodding to the coachman, Uric mounted his own horse and they headed
out.
    “What’s all this?” Ceylon asked in surprise as Raven staggered into the coach
with an armload of clothes. Amazed at his generosity, and a little
alarmed—surely the queen hadn’t meant for him to be that generous—she watched
Raven spread his loot out on the floor.
    Raven grinned and held up a garment. “I know! I couldn’t believe--” he
noticed what it was he held and flushed. Seconds later the smallclothes
disappeared behind his back.
    Ceylon looked down, grinning.
    More subdued, Raven held up a fine linen shirt. “Look at this! He got me
three! And a doublet, and a tunic, hose, pants....” He showed her each item in
turn with the enthusiasm of a small child. “He barely even looked, just checked
for fit and tossed it on the pile. Didn’t even blink when he heard the price,
either.” There was awe in his voice.
    “I think he bought the entire shop.”
    Ceylon let out a breath and bit her lip. Raven was too occupied with his new
clothes to notice.
    She stroked the furs that covered the coach seat, taking in the rough texture
of black bear. There were more and softer fur covers folded on the floor, as
well as a blue and yellow velvet quilt. Orange and red brocade cushions,
complete with gold cording, sat on each side of the seats. An unlit lantern hung
from the ceiling, and hot bricks warmed her feet. A basket of edibles had even
been placed inside, ready for her pleasure.
    All this for a mere healer?
    Her unease only increased when spied the neatly wrapped package under Raven’s
seat. It was done up in brown paper and tied with a string. The large tag had
her name on it.
    Raven helped her drag it out. “What is it?”
    Ceylon gulped as the paper fell away. It was a blue velvet cloak lined with
fur.
    Really worried now, she laid the cloak aside and opened the window. The first
thing she saw was Roland. “Er, Sir Roland?”
    “Yes, mistress Ceylon?”
    “Have you seen the princesses?”
    He frowned. “Yes.”
    “And are they....” There was no way to put it delicately. “Just how ugly are
they?”
    His brows rose.
    She sent a wild look inside the carriage, alarmed anew by the richness of her
surroundings. “I can’t do miracles, you know.”
    Roland stared at her for a moment with the strangest expression, then threw
back his head and laughed.
    Uric dropped back to see what was so funny. In spite of the chill, his head
was bare, and he barely seemed to notice the wind ruffling his fine curls. “Is
there a problem?”
    Ceylon bit her lip and glanced behind her again. “Is all of this on loan
then?” The idea relieved her. “That is, I know the coach is, and of course
everything in it, but the cloak and Raven’s clothes ... will we have to return
them?”
    Uric exchanged a glance with Roland, his eyes twinkling. “I doubt the queen
will want to wear Raven’s clothes.”
    Ceylon flushed. “You know what I mean!”
    He shrugged, still in good humor. “What is one cloak and few clothes? Of
course you may keep them.”
    She chewed the inside of her cheek and ducked back inside. It worried her
that she knew as little about the job at hand as she had before. Still, how ugly
could the women be? Even worse, what would the queen do