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her so much his that she would never think of any other man alive. He scanned the ranks of guardsmen jealously, but Carlina seemed to pay no more attention to any one than another, dancing courteously with all comers but never accepting a second dance with any.
    But no, she was dancing again with Geremy Hastur, a little closer to him than she had been to any other, she was laughing with him, his head was bent over her dark one. Was she sharing confidences, had she told him that she did not want to marry Bard? Was it Geremy, perhaps, she wished to marry?
    After all, Geremy was of the Hastur kin, descended from the legendary sons and daughters of Cassilda, Robardin’s daughter… kin to the very gods, or so they said. Damn all the Hasturs, the di Asturiens were an ancient and noble lineage too, why should she prefer Geremy? Rage and jealousy surging in him, he crossed the floor toward them; he still had enough awareness of good manners to refrain from interrupting their dance, but as the music halted and they stepped apart, laughing, he moved toward them so purposefully that he shoved another couple, without apology.
    “It is time again to dance with your promised husband, my lady,” he said.
    Geremy chuckled. “How impatient you are, Bard, considering that you will have the rest of your lives together,” he said, resting an affectionate hand on Bard’s elbow. “Well, Carlie, at least you know your promised husband is eager!”
    Bard felt the twist of malice in the taunt and said angrily, “My promised wife —” he put heavy emphasis on the words, “is Lady Carlina to you, not Carlie !”
    Geremy stared up at him, still not believing he was not making a joke. “It is for my foster sister to tell me when I am no longer welcome to call her by the name I called her when her hair was too short to braid,” he said genially. “What has come over you, Bard?”
    “The Lady Carlina is pledged as my wife,” Bard said stiffly. “You will conduct yourself toward her as is seemly for a married woman.”
    Carlina opened her mouth in amazement, and shut it again. “Bard,” she said with careful patience,
    “perhaps when we are truly man and wife and not merely a handfasted couple I shall allow you to tell me how I am to conduct myself toward my foster brothers; and perhaps not. At the moment, I shall continue to do exactly as I please in that respect! Apologize to Geremy, or don’t presume to show your face again to me tonight!”
    Bard stared at her in dismay and anger. Did she intend to make him crawl before this sandal wearer, this laranzu wizard? Was she willing to insult her promised husband in public over Geremy Hastur?
    Was it really Geremy she cared for then?
    Geremy stared, too, hardly believing what he was hearing, but King Ardrin was looking in their
    direction, and there was enough trouble in this household tonight—he sensed it—so that a quarrel would not be wise. Besides, he didn’t want to quarrel with his friend and foster brother. Bard was alone here, with no father to stand beside him, and no doubt he was feeling touchy because his closest kin could not be troubled to make half a day’s ride to see him honored as the king’s champion, and married to the king’s daughter, So he tried to ease it over.
    “I don’t need any apologies from Bard, foster sister,” he said. “If I offended him, I’ll willingly beg his pardon instead. And there is Ginevra waiting for me. Bard, my good friend, be the first to wish us well; I have asked her for leave to write my father to make arrangements for a handfasting in that quarter, and she has not refused me, only said that she must ask leave of her father to accept my offer. So, if all the old folk are agreeable, I may stand, a year or so from now, where you stand tonight! Or even, if the gods are kind, in the hills of my own country—”
    Carlina touched Geremy’s arm. “Are you homesick, Geremy?” she asked gently.
    “Homesick? Not really, I suppose. I