bring her back a souvenir from the Broken Islands. As a healer, she'd kept her mouth shut. Jelena was healing; the idea of the voyage had brought her out of her grief, and Kovar's opposition to it had strengthened her hold on the crown. Grinning, Magda wondered if Kovar had any idea of how helpful he'd been.
"You look like a cat that's been into the cream," Jerrad told her. The streamer retrieved, they straightened.
"Are you surprised?" demanded their companion, one hand clutching her healer's sash as though afraid she might lose it. "She's surrounded by overstimulated kigh. Everyone who touches her is giving her a buzz. She'll be sizzling before this is over, you mark my words."
"Anzie!" Cheeks burning, Magda smacked Jerrad on the arm before he could add his quarter gull's worth. "That's not how it works!"
Anzeta's answer got lost in the roar of the crowd.
A pair of standard-bearers, each carrying the crowned ship of Shkoder over the symbols of the five principalities and the leaping dolphin of the Broken Islands, took up position at the bottom of the gangplank. They braced themselves as the silk banners, rising more than a bodylength over their heads, caught the offshore breeze and threatened to send them out to sea.
With everyone else craning for a first glimpse of the queen, Magda was the only one who saw their expressions of relief as the air around them, and only around them, suddenly stilled. As she'd seen no bards actually on the pier, she assumed Kovar was making himself useful from his place in the procession.
Four of the Queen's Ceremonial Guard, their long pikes topped with pennants similar to those flying from the Starfarer's rigging, took up position just in from the standard bearers. Her view blocked by a broad shoulder clad in gleaming armor, Magda bumped her hip against Jerrad until he moved down far enough for her to see again. The guard, a young woman she knew by sight, was grinning. Leaning forward, Magda aimed her voice at the edge of the ceremonial helmet. "Someone's going to get a strong laxative in her beer one of these nights." The grin vanished.
Her Majesty, Jelena, Queen of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Ajud, Bicaz, and Somes, looked terrific. Under her blue-and-cream travel clothes she remained a little thin, but her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Magda felt as proud of the result as if she'd been personally responsible for it.
Two steps behind the queen, Otavas looked as incredible as he always did. He smiled and waved to the crowd as they called his name, but Magda could see that most of his attention was on Jelena and most of his joy was for hers.
Six or seven paces back, Bannon and Benedikt walked side by side.
His hands folded into white-knuckled fists by his thighs, Benedikt seemed to be doing his best to ignore the crowd. Magda could read his kigh from across the pier—she suspected she'd be able to read it from across the city. He loved the adulation. He was terrified of the possibility he might fail in front of so many.
Magda had to admit that, had it been her choice, she'd have chosen a more stable bard—by default, any other bard. On the other hand, it was quite clear that the queen's faith in him had done more for his self-esteem than she ever had.
Right at the moment, he was thinking that he should never have listened to her and should have boarded earlier with the crew; she could see it in his face.
Bannon's face, on the other hand, gave nothing away. As far as Magda knew, the possibility he might fail, at anything, had never entered Bannon's head. To her surprise, he suddenly looked directly at her and winked.
"Magda!" Anzeta followed the path of the wink and was astounded to see it answered. "You haven't! Have you?"
Magda put on her best healer-of-the-fifth-kigh expression. "What do you think?"
"I hate
"You look like a cat that's been into the cream," Jerrad told her. The streamer retrieved, they straightened.
"Are you surprised?" demanded their companion, one hand clutching her healer's sash as though afraid she might lose it. "She's surrounded by overstimulated kigh. Everyone who touches her is giving her a buzz. She'll be sizzling before this is over, you mark my words."
"Anzie!" Cheeks burning, Magda smacked Jerrad on the arm before he could add his quarter gull's worth. "That's not how it works!"
Anzeta's answer got lost in the roar of the crowd.
A pair of standard-bearers, each carrying the crowned ship of Shkoder over the symbols of the five principalities and the leaping dolphin of the Broken Islands, took up position at the bottom of the gangplank. They braced themselves as the silk banners, rising more than a bodylength over their heads, caught the offshore breeze and threatened to send them out to sea.
With everyone else craning for a first glimpse of the queen, Magda was the only one who saw their expressions of relief as the air around them, and only around them, suddenly stilled. As she'd seen no bards actually on the pier, she assumed Kovar was making himself useful from his place in the procession.
Four of the Queen's Ceremonial Guard, their long pikes topped with pennants similar to those flying from the Starfarer's rigging, took up position just in from the standard bearers. Her view blocked by a broad shoulder clad in gleaming armor, Magda bumped her hip against Jerrad until he moved down far enough for her to see again. The guard, a young woman she knew by sight, was grinning. Leaning forward, Magda aimed her voice at the edge of the ceremonial helmet. "Someone's going to get a strong laxative in her beer one of these nights." The grin vanished.
Her Majesty, Jelena, Queen of Shkoder, High Captain of the Broken Islands, Lord over the Mountain Principalities of Sibiu, Ohrid, Ajud, Bicaz, and Somes, looked terrific. Under her blue-and-cream travel clothes she remained a little thin, but her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Magda felt as proud of the result as if she'd been personally responsible for it.
Two steps behind the queen, Otavas looked as incredible as he always did. He smiled and waved to the crowd as they called his name, but Magda could see that most of his attention was on Jelena and most of his joy was for hers.
Six or seven paces back, Bannon and Benedikt walked side by side.
His hands folded into white-knuckled fists by his thighs, Benedikt seemed to be doing his best to ignore the crowd. Magda could read his kigh from across the pier—she suspected she'd be able to read it from across the city. He loved the adulation. He was terrified of the possibility he might fail in front of so many.
Magda had to admit that, had it been her choice, she'd have chosen a more stable bard—by default, any other bard. On the other hand, it was quite clear that the queen's faith in him had done more for his self-esteem than she ever had.
Right at the moment, he was thinking that he should never have listened to her and should have boarded earlier with the crew; she could see it in his face.
Bannon's face, on the other hand, gave nothing away. As far as Magda knew, the possibility he might fail, at anything, had never entered Bannon's head. To her surprise, he suddenly looked directly at her and winked.
"Magda!" Anzeta followed the path of the wink and was astounded to see it answered. "You haven't! Have you?"
Magda put on her best healer-of-the-fifth-kigh expression. "What do you think?"
"I hate
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