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arrangements set against its walls and the white chiffon and lacethat draped the edges of the refreshment tables in the same way it draped my body.
    â€œYes, the decorations are splendid, Your Majesty.”
    â€œNow, now,” my father chortled. “You know I don’t stand on ceremony.”
    â€œBut how can I help myself when you look so majestic?” I teased.
    â€œYou are just as deserving of that title as I am, my dear.” He reached out a hand to brush my cheek. “I would like to speak to you later this evening about the selection of your husband. I know you understand the importance of this decision, but all the same…” He trailed off as Steldor, with impeccable timing, came to stand beside me.
    â€œYour Majesty, My Queen,” Steldor said with a bow before turning to face me. “Princess Alera.”
    He kissed my hand, a self-assured grin touching his lips, and my father, looking immensely happy, gave me a wink.
    â€œLord Steldor.” I acknowledged him coolly, and I had the feeling my father would have taken back his approving wink if such a thing were possible.
    Steldor crossed his arms, a trace of a pout tainting his features, and I stole a glance at the Captain of the Guard, who stood as impassively as always. His job was to protect the royal family, not to become emotionally involved in its dealings, but I thought I could detect the faintest urge within him to roll his eyes at his son’s behavior.
    Conversation resumed, with surprisingly little input from Steldor, for he was watching me intently. Displeasure at his manner flared within me, for I had the feeling he was plotting his next move. I shifted farther away from him as Miranna, clasping the hand of her good friend, Semari, floated into our midst.
    Semari’s parents, Baron Koranis and Baroness Alantonya, were among those who had suffered the loss of a child toward the end of the Cokyrian War. Their lives had always been clouded by tragedy and mystery, for their firstborn had been taken in the night from his cradle a week after his birth, and his body was the sole one that had not been returned by the Cokyrians. The family had moved on as best they could, and two years later, Semari had been born, followed over the next five years by two more daughters and another all-important son, for only a male could inherit titles and property.
    Now that my effervescent sister and her friend were capturing everyone’s interest, I seized the opportunity to exit the ballroom. With a nod to the Palace Guards in the corridor, I stepped onto the landing of the open double staircase and peered over the railing to the floor twenty-five feet below. Seeing no signs of movement other than that of the guards stationed by the front doors, I descended the set of stairs to my left and stepped into the Grand Entry Hall, from which one could pass under the Grand Staircase and into the Throne Room, or proceed into either the West Wing or East Wing of the palace.
    I headed into the West Wing, which contained, among other things, the King’s Drawing Room, the small dining room that had been the scene of my date with Steldor, the large Meeting Hall and the service areas of the palace. As I strolled, I listened to the scuffing of my leather-soled slippers against the stone beneath my feet. These floors had not been kind to me in my youth. Running up and down the halls barefooted had made my feet sore, and tripping had resulted in more than a few skinned knees and bloodied noses. My parents had at times been unable to tend to me when I was hurt, for my sister had been very sick when she was a childand had needed special care. They had also, of course, been trying to put the kingdom back together in the aftermath of the war. For these reasons, my personal bodyguard had stepped into the parental role during my early years.
    I glanced around, but London was nowhere to be seen. A smile crept across my face at the thought that he might