Jasen and Larely entered the East Wing through the servants’ entrance; Larely spirited him up to his room as discreetly as he could manage. Once he was in his room, Jasen discovered that someone had gone through his trunk and hung up all of his clothing. It was probably the work of the valet that Larely had mentioned would be sent to him, but there was no sign of the man.

A short time later, a young woman arrived with a tray of tea. There were biscuits, fresh fruit, two kinds of cheeses, and slices of thick, flavorful bread. As he ate, he began to relax. There was so much going through his head, but he did his best to mute it.

It was still several hours from orientation, so Jasen decided to take a nap. He was awoken by a knock on the door. The valet had returned. He was a serious young man by the name of Dennack, who had brought some additional clothes with him.

“What are those?” Jasen asked once he was in the room.

“I had taken the liberty of going through your wardrobe when you were away. It appears my lord was missing a few vital articles of dress. I had heard there was an accident with your trunk. Perhaps they were lost?”

Jasen had gone through his trunk earlier and hadn’t noticed anything missing. He examined of the items Dennack had brought with him, which included a jacket, shirt and breeches. “I know I have those items,” he said. “They’re hanging up in the closet!”

“Ah yes.” Dennack seemed a little embarrassed. “I thought my lord might want to sample a few items that were a little more…modern.”

And now Jasen felt embarrassed as well. He knew Grumhul tended to be a bit behind the times where fashion was concerned, but hadn’t realized it was quite that bad. “Right,” he muttered. “Well, let’s get on with it, then.”

Jasen stripped out of his shirt and trousers while Dennack arranged a few things. He was not used to being dressed. Grumhulians rarely stood on ceremony and tended to dress simply.

Once he was down to his smalls, Dennack approached him with something that took Jasen a moment to identify. “Is that a corset?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I’m supposed to wear it.” It was a stupid thing to say, but he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea. Only women wore corsets in Grumhul.

“Yes, my lord.” Dennack slipped it around him. Jasen allowed it—what else could he do? “My lord might want to hold onto something,” Dennack said as he gathered the laces.

Jasen took a hold of the bed post as Dennack began to pull. After one overly enthusiastic tug, Jasen yelped. “Stop!” he wheezed. “I can hardly breathe!”

“My apologies, my lord.”

“Loosen this immediately.”

Dennack loosened the garment a little, and then a little more at Jasen’s insistence. Next came the stockings, which were made of fine silk. After that was the shirt, which had more lace at the sleeves than Jasen had ever seen. It was patently ridiculous, but Jasen bore it as best he could. A beautifully embroidered waistcoat followed.

It was when they got to the breeches that they ran into trouble. As soon as they started to put them on, it became clear to Jasen that Dennack had not brought the proper size.

“I assure my lord that they are the correct size,” Dennack protested. “I measured my lord’s other clothing and had our dragon-blessed tailor make the adjustments—”

“Well, he made a mistake,” Jasen snapped. “Obviously.”

“If my lord will lie down on the bed, it will make it easier.”

“I will do no such thing. I can barely move as it is! I’ll wear my own breeches.”

Dennack looked over at Jasen’s clothing in dismay. “As my lord wishes. But then the other clothing will not match.”

“Then I will just wear all of my things.” He didn’t care how unfashionable they were. Until he could get things to fit properly, he wasn’t going to subject himself to torture.

He undressed as Dennack got his perfectly serviceable suit from the closet, which was made of a very nice brown velvet that was only a little worn in places that no one could see, really. When he was dressed, Dennack presented him with the most ridiculous pair of shoes Jasen had ever seen. They were impossibly high. “How am I supposed to walk in these?” Jasen asked.

“It takes some practice. Please, my lord.”

Jasen was going to refuse them, but Dennack looked so miserable that he put them on. By the time all of this was finished, three o’clock had arrived. Dennack led Jasen down all of the complicated stairs to the first floor. A crowd of consorts were entering through the giant doors under the staircase. Dennack gave Jasen a bow and abandoned him to his fate.

Jasen followed the crowd past a long hallway. At the end were two larger doors which opened into the Great Hall. Servants circulated amongst them with trays of treats, but there was no place to sit down. At the back of the room was a platform that held the only furniture in the room—several fine chairs, on which sat a few distinguished looking older gentlemen and ladies.

As Jasen’s gaze left the platform and went back around to his compatriots, he immediately regretted his choice to ignore Dennack’s advice. Everyone was dressed in the highest of fashion. The women wore dresses with full, enormous skirts, which made their waists look impossibly small. The dresses were decorated with sashes of silk, ribbons, bows, beads, and even jewels. Their hairstyles were something to behold—tight, cascading curls for some, ridiculously tall hairstyles on others. Some wore wigs, while others seemed to have their natural hair, but it was all elaborately done.

As for the men, they wore fitted frockcoats that pinched in at their slim waists and flared outward into a full skirt. They had fussy lace cuffs and lace at their throats. Their breeches were, indeed, as tight as the ones Dennack had tried to persuade him to wear. Bows were tied at the knees of some. The men’s hair was somewhat more subdued, although there were still wigs and curls here and there. Their shoes were heeled, some even higher than his own.

Absolutely none of them wore anything remotely in the style of Jasen’s own clothing. It appeared that he wasn’t the only one to notice how sorely he stood out. People were sneaking looks at him out of the corners of their eyes. Everyone seemed to have hand fans, which they would open as Jasen passed by in order to hide their faces and murmur to each other. He heard a few snickers. He tried to tell himself he didn’t care, but it wasn’t working very well. He wished he had a fan for himself so that he could hide his face at least.

He was trying to duck away from a particularly mean-looking crowd when he stumbled. He would have fallen to the ground, but instead he crashed into someone. A strong, feminine arm caught him and helped him regain his balance.

“I am so sorry!” he stammered. He looked up, expecting to see a sneering face, but the expression on the lady’s face was more amused than anything else.

“No trouble,” she said. “I’m sturdy.”

And she was. She was tall for a lady—much taller than Jasen. She had a strong jaw and dark hair that was done up in a style so elaborate that he wasn’t sure how the whole thing was possible. Her dark eyes sparkled with good humor.

“Thank you,” he said.

“These shoes take a bit of getting used to. I was so terrible at walking in them as a girl that my governess didn’t let me take them off at all for two whole months.”

“Why do they insist on them?”

“I think it’s because it makes it harder for you to run away if amorous suitors set their sights on you. It doesn’t work, though—I can run faster in these things than most nobles can run at all.”

“That’s terrible,” Jasen said. “About making it so you can’t run.”

“Welcome to courtly fashion.”

“I wouldn’t welcome me quite yet,” he mumbled, gazing down at his own clothes.

She laughed. “You’re Lord Jasen, aren’t you?”

Jasen rubbed the back of his neck. “My reputation precedes me, I take it.”

“Oh yes. Your entrance last night has been all that anyone can talk about.”

“I was hoping that would escape notice.”

“Nothing escapes notice around here. Speaking of which—is it true that you went into a trance, ran naked into the draemir and fell into a swoon in front of a dragon, and then the king had to carry you back draped in his Drae’s cloak?”

“I wasn’t naked!” Jasen protested. “And I didn’t swoon!”

The lady let out a delighted gasp. “So it is true!”

Jasen was saved from having to answer by the blast of a trumpet. Everyone fell silent at once. After a brief fanfare, a short old woman in simple but elegant clothes mounted the platform, walking in front of the seated elders until she was front and center. Her mouth was a firm, thin line, and her dark gaze was as sharp as a dagger.

“Presenting the Lady Isalei!” the trumpet blower announced.

Everyone applauded enthusiastically. Once the applause had died down, the lady spoke. “My lords and ladies,” she said in a deep, clear voice, “I am happy once again to greet you, and trust you have settled in.”

There was a murmur of Yes, my lady from the crowd.

“I am pleased to hear it,” she said. Her mouth did something—widened a little, turned up at the corners. Jasen thought it might be a smile. “You all come from the finest families in the Allied Realms. You have received the best training at the most prestigious schools. And truly, you are a fine-looking lot. Young. Beautiful. Fashionable.”

There was a pause. Her mouth snapped back to its previous shape. “Well, I am here to tell you that none of that is good enough. You may have been the jewels of your little realms and provinces, but this is Strengsend—the most spectacular palace the world has ever seen, and you are all as temporary and unimportant as a daisy in the Bedrose Gardens. It is true that you are new blooms, but blooms fade—more quickly than any of you realize.

“And so, we have very little time to shape you into something less flimsy than a flower. The suitors arrive in two months. They are expecting to be charmed, dazzled, impressed. And they are looking for more than a pretty face. A pretty face they could get at any of the finer brothels. No. You are to be consorts. Those are positions of great responsibility, and I expect each and every one of you to take this matter very, very seriously. The entire course of your life is to be determined in these next few months. I will not be easy on you, but in the end, you will thank me. No matter how polished you think you are, I promise you, you still need work.”

“Some of us more than others.”

Jasen turned his head to see who had spoken. It was a pretty blonde girl at the center of that mean-looking crowd he’d been avoiding. Their eyes were all on Jasen. There was a smattering of laughter.

“Princess Polina,” Lady Isalei said. “How nice to see you again. This is your third year with us, yes?”

The blonde girl flushed and covered her face with her fan.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer,” Lady Isalei said.

“Yes, my lady,” she squeaked.

“Hm. Even the loveliest flower won’t carry on for four seasons. Something to think on before you make disparaging remarks about others.”

“Yes, my lady.” As soon as Lady Isalei looked away, Princess Polina shot Jasen a venomous glare, as if the scolding she received was somehow his fault.

“We will now begin our assessments of your strengths and deficiencies.” She gestured to the elders behind her. “This is my council. They are here out of the goodness of their own hearts in order to help you achieve what they have achieved. You will not disrespect them by telling them lies. Answer our questions honestly so that we can get you into the best position possible. The potential for failure is great—but the rewards of success are even greater. Once you have been evaluated, you may take your leave.”

With that, the venerated ladies and gentlemen filed off the platform. Behind each of them floated a scroll and a quill.

“Lady Isalei likes to make herself seem more terrible than she really is,” Jasen’s companion said. He jumped at her voice. She laughed, but not unkindly. “You see? She’s in your head already. Relax. It’s not as dire as she makes it out. She acts like the nobles who come here looking for marriage are some god-like beings with lofty standards. Actually, most of them really are looking for a pretty face.”

“Why all of this, then?”

“Because no one wants to admit that picking out a consort and picking out a whore are basically the same thing. That would make many noble families pimps, and we couldn’t have that, could we?”

Jasen, as a Grumhulian, was not easily scandalized, but even he was shocked at her bluntness. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

“I’m—”

“Lady Risyda,” finished a stern voice from behind them. They whipped around to see Lady Isalei, her paper and quill floating behind her.

Lady Risyda curtsied. “Yes, my lady.” If she was nervous that her last statement had been overheard, she didn’t show it. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“You know I detest lies,” she said, but there was the smallest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “I assume you still possess the many faults you exhibited at Court last year?”

“Oh yes,” she said cheerfully. “In abundance.”

Lady Isalei humphed. “Have you worked on expanding your magical talents?”

Lady Risyda nodded. A look of concentration came over her face. She thumped herself three times on the chest and opened her mouth. A small puff of smoke in the shape of a heart emerged from her lips.

“Clever,” Lady Isalei said dryly. “I’m sure that will command the respect of your servants once you are head of a household.”

“I can make it in the shape of a riding crop,” she said. “Or maybe a dismissal with no references, although that might be a little abstract.”

Lady Isalei sighed. The quill scraped on the page. “Your dress and bearing seem much improved this year. How is your archery?”

“Splendid. I won first prize at the Enoquan Archery Tournament last summer.”

“Good, good. And your languages?”

Risyda made a long, incomprehensible reply that was to Lady Isalei’s satisfaction. “And what about your licentious habits and poor attitude?”

“I’ve kept up with those as well, my lady.”

“I know you think you’re clever, and it’s true you can be amusing. That’s a fine quality to have. But if you are not careful, you are going to amuse yourself into a grim situation. This is your third year. You must make a match, or resign yourself for spinsterhood in your father’s home. Which is it to be?”

Lady Risyda didn’t answer right away. “I could always become a draedess?”

Lady Isalei snorted. She turned her terrifying attention to Jasen. “And you must be Lord Jasen.”

Jasen bowed. “Yes, my lady.” He hoped he didn’t sound too stilted.

“Of Grumhul.” She said it as if she had the same opinion of his homeland that Jasen had.

“Yes, my lady,” he mumbled.

“That means you were educated at Rodkiner Academy, yes? That’s the nearest, I think.”

“Ah, no.”

“Verar, then.”

“No, my lady. I was educated at home.” Which was partially true. He’d had tutors until he was twelve. Then his mother had died, and his father found better things to spend his money on.

“I see.” She looked him up and down. “Hair, face and figure are good, although a complete new wardrobe is needed,” she muttered to the floating quill, which scratched away on the parchment floating beside it. “Have you any special talents?” she asked, addressing Jasen again.

“Talents?”

“Perhaps you possess some magical ability.”

“No.”

“Athletic skills?”

“I’m good at mudball.”

It took a moment for her to absorb that information. “Mudball is not quite what I had in mind. I mean something of a more sophisticated activity, such as riding, archery, or fencing.”

“Oh. Then no, not really.”

“Perhaps you are well-read and can converse on many interesting subjects.”

“No.” With every no, Jasen’s voice got smaller and smaller.

“Musical aptitude? Painting? Dance, perhaps?”

Jasen shook his head to each one.

Lady Isalei pinched the bridge of her nose. “And how, then, did you make your way to us?”

“Someone lost a bet.” Which was true. His father, in a rare instance of good luck, had beat one of the royal recruiters in a game of cards. The man had no money left, so he’d given him a place for Jasen at Court.

“A bet,” the lady echoed. The quill quivered beside her expectantly. “Make sure his breeches are extra tight,” she told it. The quill obediently scratched that down. “That will do for a start,” she said to Jasen. “I would like to meet with you privately later on. You have a lot of catching up to do. I would also like to discuss some rumors I’ve heard.”

Jasen felt a lump in his stomach. “Yes, my lady.”

She nodded to both Risyda and Jasen. Jasen stared miserably at his horrible shoes. He was startled out of his self-pity when Risyda whacked him with her fan. “Bow,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as she curtsied. Jasen did so with such force that he nearly toppled over. Risyda thrust a hand out and steadied him. When Jasen looked up, he saw Lady Isalei’s lips curl up ever so slightly. “Good afternoon to you both,” she said.

Jasen thought the torment was over, but Lady Isalei had not walked three steps when she was confronted with the blonde princess from earlier. “My lady,” she said, curtsying. “I must apologize to you for my unseemly outburst. I don’t know what came over me. The heat of the room, perhaps. It’s making me dizzy—I am not myself!”

“Of course, Princess,” Lady Isalei said coolly. “Perhaps you should apologize to Lord Jasen.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said. She curtsied in his direction. “My deepest apologies.”

“Ah—thank you.” Jasen hoped that was the right thing to say.

Lady Isalei nodded. “I’m sure I will hear no more of trouble between you—any of you,” she said with a pointed look as Risyda.

“Yes, my lady,” they all said in unison. The Lady Isalei nodded again and left.

Jasen glanced back over at the princess. He couldn’t figure out why she was baring her teeth at him; then he realized it was probably meant to be a smile. “Silly me,” she said. “We aren’t even properly acquainted. I am Polina, princess of the realm of Intasnia.”

“Fifth princess,” Risyda said. “That is the proper address for your people, right, Polly? Because you have four older sisters. Older, successful sisters.”

Even more of Polina’s teeth became visible. “Yes, Lady Risyda, you are correct.”

“Polly and I studied at Enoqua Academy together,” Risyda continued.

“Yes, we are old friends,” Polina said to Jasen. “And I so hope that you and I can be friends as well!”

“Of course.”

“Well! So pleased we could have this little chat, but I must be off.”

“Always a pleasure, Polly!” Risyda said. “Don’t trip on your gown on your way across the room, like you did last year!”

The princess opened her fan with such force that it sounded like the crack of a whip and sauntered off across the room.

“I love winding her up,” Risyda said with a grin. “No one spins quite as spectacularly as the princess if you do it just right.” Before Jasen could respond to that, she took him by the arm. “And now that we’ve been evaluated, we are free to go, so you’re coming up to my room.”

“I— That is to say,” Jasen stammered. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think—”

She whacked him with her fan. “Not in that way. I need to hear every single detail of what happened this morning, and you are going to tell me.”

Jasen wanted to protest, but he realized that it was probably futile. She was remarkably strong. Besides, he could not wait to get away from the crowd, and he didn’t relish sitting in his room alone.

* * *

Risyda’s room was a bit larger than Jasen’s own. In addition to the small table with two chairs that Jasen had in his room, there was also a lounging sofa.

The first thing Risyda did was sit down on the sofa and kick off her shoes. Jasen followed suit, taking one of the chairs.

She wiggled her toes. “The one nice thing about those blasted shoes is that they feel so good to take off.”

Jasen made a sound of agreement and rubbed his foot. He already had a blister.

“Now if only I could undo my hair. And my corset. Not ’til the end of the day, sadly.” She sighed. “Oh well.” She gave Jasen a mischievous look that he was already growing accustomed to. “I do have something that will ease our discomfort a little.”

She went over to her bed, got onto her knees, and pulled out a box from underneath it. She brought it back to the sofa and opened it. Inside was something that looked like a bottle, along with some long tubes. She screwed the tubes onto the bottle and set it on the floor.

“What is that?” Jasen asked.

“A hookah,” she said. She pulled out a small pouch. “And this is kara weed. Have you ever tried it?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“You really are a rube, aren’t you?”

Jasen didn’t take offense. After all, he was.

“You’re going to love it,” she said, packing the contents of the purse into the contraption. She concentrated for a moment; a burst of flame sprang out of her finger and lit the weed. She sucked one of the tubes, inhaling the smoke. With a contented sigh, she lay back on the sofa as she exhaled the smoke through her nose. “Mmmm. Now that is much better.” She offered one of the tubes to Jasen. “Your turn.”

Jasen took the tube. “Could we get in trouble for this?”

“Don’t tell me the man who sneaked out of his room to go frolicking with dragons is worried about a little kara weed.”

She had a point. Jasen sucked in some of the smoke, and then fell into a coughing spasm.

Risyda got up and patted him on the back until it was over. “I probably should have given you a little more instruction. Here, like this…”

A few puffs later, Jasen got a handle on it. He felt wonderful all over. He’d never cared for wine or spirits, which always left him dizzy and sick. This, however, was just a comfortable buzzing feeling. He found himself sliding to the floor.

“Well? How do you like it?”

“I feel like I’m covered in bees,” Jasen said. “Nice bees. Bees that feel good.”

Risyda laughed. “See? I told you.” She inhaled another puff and let it out in a few perfect rings. “All right, let’s get the getting-to-know-you bits over with. This is me: rich merchant father, I’m the youngest daughter, we don’t like each other, et cetera. He has been training me my whole life to fetch a good marriage price. I can’t decide whether I want to marry so I can escape him or screw him out of the gold he so desperately wants. Now you.”

“Dead mother, drunk and gambling- addicted father. Same sort of deal with the marriage.”

She beamed. “I just knew we would have a lot in common.” She rested her chin on her hand. “Now, to more interesting matters. Just what exactly happened this morning with you and the king?”

Jasen only hesitated for a moment before the whole thing came spilling out. He knew he should be more cautious over whom he trusted, but the kara weed made him feel so relaxed and he desperately needed to sort through what happened. When he was finished, Risyda puffed thoughtfully on her pipe for a few moments. “You’re going to marry the king,” she finally said.

Jasen groaned and fell back on the ground, one arm flung over his face. “I don’t want to marry a king!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know anything about…well, anything! And to be king consort? To have the entire fate of the magic of the Allied Realms resting on whether or not I’m properly supportive? That’s a nightmare, not a dream come true.”

“But what can you do? He’s already decided he wants you.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

She waved her hand. “Of course I can. I have spent my whole life training to catch a suitor. I know the signs.”

Jasen sat up and took a few morose puffs until he felt a little better. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to have to make yourself utterly repulsive. Fortunately, I’m an expert on that as well.”

Jasen frowned. “I don’t want to be repulsive to him.”

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me you like him?” Jasen just gave her a miserable look. She took a few more contemplative puffs. “Well. This is all deliciously complicated.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock of a strange rhythm on the door. Jasen sat straight up, the pleasant buzzing feeling rapidly fading in panic. “Quick! Get that thing back in the box—”

Risyda waved her hand as she stood up. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.” She weaved her way to the door and opened it a crack. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“Fucking hell, Risyda, I can smell you all the way down the hallway!” said a familiar voice. “I know you can control it, so why aren’t you?” The door opened a little more, revealing Larely.

“Sorry,” Risyda said. She waved her hand. The smoke swirled into a ball in the middle of the room. Another wave and it disappeared with a small pop. “Better?”

“Yes, but it isn’t even dark yet. Can’t you wait until everyone’s asleep at the very least?”

“You worry too much. Everyone’s still at orientation.”

“Just the same, you could really get into…” He trailed off when he finally saw Jasen. “Oh no. The two of you are friends now?” He put a hand over his face and groaned. “My life is about to get exponentially more difficult, isn’t it?”

Risyda batted her eyelashes. “Do you want to come in?”

Larely looked over his shoulder and then slipped in the door, shutting it behind him. “Just for a moment.” He crossed his arms as he looked down at Jasen, who was still sprawled on the floor. “Haven’t you already been in enough trouble today?”

“Don’t let him lecture you about trouble,” Risyda said. “He is a very naughty guard.”

This struck Jasen as the height of hilarity. He tried and failed to suppress a surge of unmanly giggles. Risyda joined him.

“Oh, shut up, both of you,” Larely said, but it was good-natured. He grabbed one of the hoses and took a quick puff.

“Keep it to—” he started, but had to stop as a coughing fit overcame him. That made Jasen laugh harder. “Keep it to night from now on,” he finished after he got a hold of himself.

Risyda saluted. “Aye-aye, captain.”

“I mean it,” Larely said. “You could get sent home.”

“We’ll be good, I promise,” Jasen said.

Larely scoffed. “Oh, I doubt that very much, but try not to get caught.”

“Keep clean where they can see me,” Jasen said, echoing Larely’s earlier words. “Got it.”

“At your service, as always,” Larely said with an overly lavish bow. He winked at Risyda, which was interesting. Jasen had thought that Larely had been flirting with him earlier, but maybe he’d misjudged the situation. The two of them seemed awfully close.

“I should go,” Jasen said, pushing himself off the floor. “I actually don’t want to go back to Grumhul just yet.” He fumbled for his shoes. It took him a few moments to get his balance when he stood.

Risyda helped steady him. “Are you sure you can get to your room all right?”

“’m fine,” Jasen muttered. And he was, mostly.

But when he left her room, he almost immediately lost his sense of direction. He ended up going down when he should have gone up, and left when he should have gone right, and after wandering around for a little while, he realized he was hopelessly lost. The pleasant buzzing feeling had transformed into a raging headache.

He found a staircase and managed to get back up to the second floor, but only after nearly breaking his neck falling down. The thought of having to go up yet another set of stairs was too daunting to consider. He was just considering trying to make his way back to Risyda’s room, possibly on his hands and knees, when he turned a corner and ran straight into Larely. Jasen stumbled and would have fallen, but Larely caught him. “Steady now,” he said, helping him regain his footing.

“I hate these shoes,” Jasen said passionately. “And all these stairs. Why are there so many? And these halls. And all these doors that look alike.”

“You’re lost, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“Then I’ll show you back,” Larely said, linking his arm with Jasen’s. Jasen was grateful for the support.

They reached Jasen’s room. “Here you are. Again.” Larely grinned at him. “This is the third time in twenty-four hours I’ve shown you to your room. Do you think it will stick this time?”

“I would say yes, but I really can’t be sure.”

Larely laughed. “That’s fine. I don’t mind rescuing you.”

“Rescuing me?” Jasen scoffed. “Well, I wouldn’t quite put it like that.”

“Whatever you say, my lord,” Larely said with an ironic little bow.

Jasen muttered his thanks and stepped through the door. Once inside, he took off his shoes and lay down face first on his bed. He rolled over eventually and rubbed his face vigorously. A thousand thoughts swirled in his head. He had thought that he wanted to be away from Grumhul and his father more than anything else, but this was turning out to be far more complicated than he had anticipated. He was barely sure he wanted to be a lord consort at all, let alone king consort.

At the same time, the king had been so handsome, and so kind. Nothing like he expected. Even thinking of him now made his heart beat a little faster.

Eventually, he got up and splashed his face with some water, trying to banish the last of the kara weed’s effects. He would be expected to dine in the dining hall tonight. The thought of facing all of the consorts again made him queasy, but at least he had Risyda now. He decided to try to put aside his larger doubts and just make it through the evening intact. He could worry about the rest of it tomorrow.