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fool—”
    “Do not defy me, Uncle. This is not the day for it. I want you on your way within the hour.”
    Dmitri dipped his knee again. “My lord.” Then he stomped out of the room. I would not have been one of his slaves at that moment for an extra year’s rations.
    The Prince did not stop my cleaning, even when I moved from the desk to the couch, where I had seen him recline. He was tapping his foot and staring out of the window again.
    The man who arrived next was so bulbous his gold breeches and vest could scarcely contain his bulk. One could get nauseous from watching the undulating waves of gold satin. His scant hair was swept across the pink ball of his head into a braid of a most unnatural color of red, and it had been a goodly while since the fellow had seen the desert from the back of a warhorse. Amazingly enough he could sweep a bow as gracefully as a slender boy. “Your Highness, all blessings of Athos and his brethren upon you this glorious day. How may I lend my poor talents to the service of my most gracious lord?” His speech was bulbous as well.
    “We are having special guests this evening. I wish every first-degree noble of the House of Mezzrah to receive a personal summons from my Lord High Chamberlain. From his very lips.”
    The florid face was a bit disconcerted. “From my—”
    “From your lips, Fendular, from your lips. I believe there are some nineteen of these gentlemen. You are to greet them with my heartfelt good wishes, my promise of leniency in all our dealings, my most sincere respect, my desire to treat with them, to hear their grievances, and heed their wisdom ... whatever particular flatteries you think appropriate. You are wise in these matters as I am not.”
    Another bow. “Your Highness is too generous with—”
    “You will tell them that I wish to receive them as soon as possible and introduce them to the Emperor’s Khelid emissary, Korelyi. In fact, they will be in my reception rooms no later than four hours from the next striking of the clock.”
    “Four—”
    “Your life is forfeit, Fendular, if even one of these lords is not present. And I will not have them brought by force. They must come willing, despite any ... misgiving ... they may have about my favor. Do you understand me?”
    “Indeed, my lord.” The man had lost a good deal of his robust coloring, and had, indeed, sagged into his clothes a bit like a slip of gold leaf set too close to the forge.
    “What anxiety is this, Fendular? You understand these northern nobles as no one else in the Emperor’s service understands them. You know the right words to bring them.”
    A straightening of the overburdened spine. “It shall be done as you command, Highness. I am honored by your confidence.”
    “Good. And because these lords may be apprehensive—some scurrilous rumors that they are out of my favor—you will arrange for suitable gifts of greeting to await them upon their arrival. Fine gifts. Once I have received our guests, we will surprise them by having them dine at my own table with my Khelid guest. You will give the necessary orders?”
    “Of course, Highness.” Fewer words as the tasks of the next hours grew impossibly complex.
    “Be off with you, Fendular, with all haste.”
    “Your Highness.” Another bow, not quite so sweeping, and the Chamberlain backed toward the door.
    “Oh ... one more thing,” said the Prince.
    “Yes, my lord?”
    “You need not invite Sierge, Lord Vanye’s brother-in-law. I am issuing his invitation myself.”
    Fendular withdrew with his orders and was quickly replaced by a tall, thin Derzhi warrior dressed smartly in the Emperor’s green livery. His face was shaped like a shovel, narrow at the top, spreading into a flat wide jaw. The Prince acknowledged his crisp bow.
    “You value your appointment as the palace guard captain and the trust I bear you, do you not, Mikael?”
    “My life is yours, as you know, Your Highness, since the day you were fifteen and