“But—”

“And as you said, Lady Pheresa, this is a matter of state, not of love. Hmm?” The scorn and mockery in his voice as he turned her own words back against her was too much for her to bear. She raged with embarrassment and mortification. If this had all been Gavril’s idea, then he was cruder than she’d imagined. Perhaps he was hiding behind the draperies right now, laughing at her discomfiture.  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “This—this was beastly!” she said in a muffled voice.

“On the contrary, dear child. It was practical. Don’t worry. His highness will have my full report by eventide. Go now and change your gown. There’s no need to soil such lovely magnificence when the prince isn’t at court today to see it.” The servant opened the door.

Blinded by rage and tears, Pheresa swept through it. Noncire chuckled behind her until the closing door cut off the sound. Still, his amusement echoed in her ears as she fled.

She couldn’t go back through the galleries, to be stared at by everyone.  Muffling her sobs, Pheresa picked up her skirts and ran for a hiding place, where she could stay unseen and unheard for the rest of the day.  As a town, Savroix-en-Charva sprawled larger than any other settlement Dain had ever seen. Buildings made either of stone or wood towered as high as five stories and were crammed so closely together a person could lean out of an upstairs window and touch the wall of the adjoining structure. The streets were paved with stone, and the clatter of horses’ hooves and cart wheels made an awful din and racket that went on day and night. To the south side of the city, the mouth of the Charva River spread nearly half a league wide as it joined the sea. Rich black farmland bordered it, lush with crops nearly ready for harvesting.

To Dain, there had never been such sights or smells or sounds. He found it disorienting at first, for the city was so large he felt closed off from trees, and the soil, and growing things. All he could sense was a bewildering flicker of men-minds and the constant bustle and hurry of movement. It took him time to adjust and block out the worst of it.

Then he discovered the sea, and stood for nearly an hour, mouth open, just gazing at its vast expanse. It stretched so far that on the horizon it blended with the sky. And within it, deep beneath the heaving waters, swam such a bounty of life. His mind reached out to new creatures—the fish, and the little spiny urchins that grew on rocks, and the weeds swaying in their own dim fluid world.  More than that, he felt the sea itself as an entity, vast and powerful, like the mountains or the Dark Forest.

And to Riva, goddess-consort of Thod, who ruled the moon and held power over the sea, Dain knelt and worshiped.

Sir Terent’s meaty hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed it hard. “Dain!” he said in a strangled voice. “What’re you doing?”

Dain ignored him until he finished, then he rose to his feet and looked into the red face of his protector. Beyond Sir Terent’s burly shoulders, a crowd of people came and went on their business. “I was praying,” Dain said.  “Aye, ‘tis what I thought. Take care, now. A pagan you no longer are, and you aren’t to be praying to whatever it was that you were praying to.”