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the double staircase. Smoothing my skirt, I more sedately descended the flight to my left, turning to walk underneath it in order to enter the Throne Room by means of the antechamber. The Captain of the Guard’s office opened off the eastern wall, and a Palace Guard knocked upon its door at my approach. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door. Overcome with foreboding at sight of the men who were talking with the captain, I stopped on the threshold.
    I had expected that Cannan desired to speak with me alone, although to what end I could not fathom, but Steldor, Galen, Destari and my father were also present. This placed me in the company of the Captain of the Guard, the King, the Sergeant at Arms, a deputy captain in the Elite Guard and the former King, men who were not only imposing, but intensely dark in coloring. As everyone’s expressions were somber, I felt as if I was stepping into a room full of storm clouds.
    Cannan was seated behind his desk, with Steldor on his left so that he likewise faced the others. Everyone camerespectfully to their feet, but I continued to stand still, unnerved.
    â€œCome in, Your Majesty. Have a seat.”
    Cannan motioned to a spare wooden chair in front of his desk, which looked to me to be an interrogation chair, for it was not designed for comfort. Galen and my father—who was still addressed as King Adrik, though he no longer ruled—took up seats in similar chairs to my left. Destari, the towering Elite Guard who had at times replaced London as my bodyguard, stood on my right, unaccustomed, I supposed, to relaxing while within his captain’s office. Father and son had reseated themselves in leather armchairs, and I eyed Cannan, unable to imagine the reason he had sent for me; women in Hytanica, including the Queen, were not consulted in financial, political or military matters.
    â€œWe’ve been updating Steldor regarding our efforts to hold the Cokyrians at the river,” the captain explained. “It’s time to inform him of Narian’s significance to the enemy.”
    My breath caught, and I fervently hoped I had not yet awakened—that this was just a nightmare. I did not want to have to discuss Narian in the presence of any of these men; that was doubly true when it came to my father and Steldor.
    â€œLondon has not yet returned to Hytanica,” Cannan continued in his businesslike manner. “It is incumbent upon you and Destari to tell us to the best of your abilities about the Legend of the Bleeding Moon.”
    â€œThen let Destari speak,” I blurted. “He knows as much if not more about the legend than do I.”
    Cannan, I was certain, knew what I was doing, but he let it pass and turned to the deputy captain, who came to attention.
    â€œStand at ease, and tell us what you know.”
    â€œYes, sir. On the day of the tournament last October,London met with Alera and me to discuss an urgent matter. He told us that he had become suspicious of Narian and had gone to Cokyri to learn what he could about his upbringing.”
    My father seemed shocked by this news, and even the military men seemed taken aback by London’s bold and dangerous initiative, leading me to believe that no one else would have dared to venture into the enemy’s stronghold.
    â€œWhile he was there,” Destari continued in his deep, resonating voice, “he discovered an account of an ancient legend, the Legend of the Bleeding Moon, which foretold of our kingdom’s downfall. The account repeated our own lore about how our first King hallowed our land with the blood of his infant son to give Hytanica abiding protection from her enemies. The legend held, however, that a Hytanican boy would be born under a bleeding moon, and that this boy would be marked by the moon and given the power to overthrow his kingdom.
    â€œIn the final months of the war seventeen years ago, a blood-red moon dominated the night, and the Cokyrians