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to come walking out of the forest asking to marry one,” Lady Rivkah told her wryly. “Ria, living in a noble family means that you always have good food and warm clothing and a solid roof over your head, healers when you need them, a warm fire in the winter. It means you don’t have to work in the fields or exhaust yourself at a trade or sell your body as a whore. It means you can sit on the stable roof and watch the wagons being loaded instead of loading them yourself. But it also means that you’re responsible in many ways for the well-being of a lot of other people, and that means that sometimes what’s necessary for your people is more important than what you want for yourself. You’re no different from the rest of us in that regard.”
    Ria was stubbornly silent. She wasn’t a noble to be obligated, nor a peasant to be ordered, either; she was an elf, and if she could just find her way back to her mother’s people, she’d show Lady Rivkah and all the others just how different that did make her.
    “There’s no use sulking,” Lady Rivkah said patiently. “And you’ve picked a bad time if you’re making this fuss to get attention. We’ve all got too much work to do to cater to you while you feel sorry for yourself. Even Cyril’s seeing to the packing of his own things; I’d have you do the same, but I know if I did, the only clothing that would be brought would be those patched old breeches and tunic. At least you should be pleased that Lady Sivia won’t be coming with us.”
    That was a surprise. Ria’s pointed ears pricked up with interest despite her effort to look stubbornly indifferent.
    “She won’t?” Ria asked warily.
    “No. Married ladies don’t have governesses, and in any event, Lady Sivia wouldn’t want to accompany us to Allanmere where the conditions will be so rough.” Lady Rivkah glanced sternly at Ria. “I’ve had trouble enough getting her to stay this long after the trouble you’ve given her. If you and Cyril want teachers after you’re wed and have assumed the throne of Allanmere, you’ll have to find and hire them yourselves, and good fortune to you finding ones who can put up with your tricks.” Lady Rivkah stood, patting Ria’s shoulder.
    “Now if you want to go on and sulk, go ahead, if you want somebody to be angry at, though, come to Sharl or me, not Cyril. We’re the ones to blame, if you like.”
    Lady Rivkah’s exit from the room was quickly followed by the entrance of a bevy of serving maids bringing a box for Ria’s clothes. Ria fled to the kitchen, where she found to her disgust that a similar state of chaos reigned. Even the cellars, which Ria had always disliked because of their dark, close atmosphere, were too crowded and bustling to give her sanctuary. At last there was nowhere to go but back to the stable, where thankfully the horses were not inclined to irritate her further.
    Ria picked up one of the stable boy’s brushes and began grooming one of the horses, comforted by the huge, gentle presence of the animal. Lord Sharl and Lady Rivkah had told Ria that her mother could hear animals’ thoughts, speak to them in the same way, even see through their eyes. Ria had tried and tried and tried, but although she could befriend the most ill-tempered dog in the keep and coax the most feral of the barn cats to eat tidbits from her hand, that appeared to be the extent of it. Ria had been inconsolable when she’d realized that, like magery, such a gift didn’t seem to be a matter of trying; one either had it or one didn’t, and it appeared that Ria simply didn’t. She’d have given—well, just about anything in the world to fly with a bird the way her mother had.
    She’d been so looking forward to the trip to Allanmere, the prospect of escaping the monotony of Lord Emaril’s country keep. Now it seemed, however, as if Ria was walking into a cage even smaller and far less escapable—marriage.
    Oh, to be a bird, to fly high above the cage walls that