The Singer's Crown by Elaine Isaak

I’d not understood what he said, but he was clearly decidin’ my fate, so I offered him my sword on my knees. He looked just at me, took that sword, and wore it at his side. He took me to his service, so here I stay. It was ten years ago, or more.” Kattanan said nothing as Prince leapt between them, yapping. Rolf regarded him silently, dark eyes slightly narrowed. “Ye have somewhat to think on. Will ye not talk instead?”
    The singer shook himself. “I should return to chambers, the princess will be rising soon.”
    â€œâ€™Twas a question, not a threat.” Rolf knelt to tussle with the puppy. “Ye know where I’m found, little man. I’ve just not found an ear of late, and the men’ve all heard my tales.”
    Kattanan felt himself relax. “I would like to hear them. Songs, too, if you have any.”
    â€œHaven’t I?” Rolf laughed again. “Ye know not what ye’re asking, Kattanan duRhys, but I’ll more than willingly give it. Bring yer friend again tomorrow if ye can.”
    â€œI will come.” The singer caught himself bowing to this huge man and smiled briefly instead, dragging the pup back down the winding stair and across to their own steps.
    The princess, in fact, had not risen, although several maids were fussing over her chambers already. Among them, Laura flashed a smile. Dark hair, going a little gray, hung braided over her shoulder. Catching his regard, she crossed to the singer. “The priestess was asking if she need come today. I figured not. Was I right?”
    â€œI would gladly sing the Prayers. It keeps me in tune, and Her Highness has a fine voice.”
    Laura laughed lightly. “’Twas the only lesson of hers she paid heed to. You should see her in court, kicking her throne like a child. She makes faces at the prince when she thinks he’s not looking. It’s a good thing she’s not eldest, or the kingdom would be hers to rule someday.”
    â€œI thought they had two elder sisters.”
    â€œWell, both of them married foreign princes and are queens now, so it falls to Prince Wolfram. I think the king wanted that anyhow. He has not thought much of the ruling queens he has known. Helped to bring one down in fact, not far from here.”
    Kattanan looked sharply away. “I’ve heard. Should I get this puppy out of the way?”
    Laura was frowning at him. “That would be best. The fewer that know about him, the better.”
    With the pup in tow, Kattanan went back to his own room. He left Prince there, whining and scratching against the door. The maids worked around him, drawing back drapes and refilling the basins, resisting his attempts to help, so he was left with little to occupy himself. He picked a book off the shelf and settled into a chair in the corner. The book turned out to be a Strelledor text, a testament of Sofiya, one of the early priestesses, and quite a rare volume. Soon the singer was lost to the world in words both ancient and holy.
    â€œHow can you read that stuff?” Melisande demanded as she flounced out of her room.
    â€œAre we feeling petulant this morning, Your Highness?” Laura asked, following with a green gown over her arm.
    â€œI can feel however I like; I’m the princess! Today I do not feel like green.” She eyed the gown and flicked it away. “What is my schedule?”
    â€œYou are to sit in court in the morning—”
    â€œUgh!” Melisande shivered. “Tell Wolfie I’m sick.”
    â€œYou are not sick, and you ought to go to court, Your Highness,” Laura advised.
    â€œIt is time for prayers, Your Highness,” Kattanan pointed out.
    â€œBegin,” she said, sitting down regally and offering him a brush.
    As before when he sang the prayer, Melisande joined in smoothly, then Laura. The sound drifted slowly down when they finished, but they held still a long moment, the singer, and the