He maintained his brisk pace up the steps and weary as I was, I strove to keep up with him. The entrance hall was furnished in what I believed was a Bingtown style. There were clusters of chairs around small elegant tables. The room still looked oddly empty to me until I realized that it was missing a grand hearth with a fire. Despite the high ceilings and wide windows of thick yellow glass, it was still warm inside; I judged this further evidence of Elderling magic at work. We did not pause in this room, but entered a flagged hall and walked along it, our boots ringing while the softly shod feet of the king whispered along. We passed half a dozen ornately carved doors before he opened one and gestured us in.

In the center of the room was a table with an elegant cloth and fine dishes set out upon it. Chairs with carved wooden backs and green cushions awaited us. The art on the walls was foreign to my eyes, but pleasant. Images were suggested—the deep twining greens of a forest or the wide rippled face of a river—but nothing was precisely depicted. A woman had been straightening the silverware on the table, but she turned to greet us as we entered.

Queen Malta of the Dragon Traders. She was legendary for her exotic beauty, and there was no mistaking her for anyone else. Her curling hair was not blond but gold, gold as a gleaming coin. Delicate scaling followed the lines of her brow and emphasized her high cheekbones and decided chin. Like her king, she was dressed in an Elderling robe over loose trousers. The soft little slippers she wore sparkled gold. The fabric of her clothing shimmered from green to gold and back again as she moved to greet us. Caution made me drop to one knee before her, and Lant followed my example. She laughed, and I thought it was at me until I realized that young Perseverance, caught in her beauty, was standing behind us, staring at her with eyes wide and mouth ajar.

She shifted her gaze back to me, and her smile grew even broader. “And that expression honors me more than any presentation of gifts,” she observed, and Perseverance abruptly dropped to his knees. Her eyes twinkled at me as if we shared some splendidly funny secret. She swept me a curtsy. “Prince FitzChivalry, you honor us with this unexpected visit. Yet I feel as if we have met before. I do hope you will forgive General Rapskal. He is sometimes both officious and suspicious.” She transferred her gaze to her husband. “Reyn, dear, as you can see, I’ve added some extra place settings to our table. I was so glad to receive your message. And I think we shall have all our unexpected guests join us at table!” Again her sparkling gaze came back to me. “Prince FitzChivalry, do you believe in coincidence?”

“I have known some that were passing strange,” I told her. Careful, Fitz. I knew I was treading onto unstable ground and would have to be ready to change my tale at a moment’s notice. I turned my smile to Lant and Perseverance, hoping they could read my warning.

“And here is my coincidence,” Queen Malta exclaimed with a smile as a door on the opposite side of the room opened.

Spark, her hair freshly brushed and braided into tidy coils on her head, entered the room. Her cheeks were pink, and Lady Thyme’s elegant black lace overskirt looked better on her than it ever had on that noisome old woman. Behind her came, not the Fool, not Gray, but Amber, and Amber as I had never even imagined her. The butterfly cloak hung gracefully from her narrow shoulders. The Fool’s short hair had been damped and tousled into curls, and a touch of paint reddened his pale lips and cheeks. I knew the sparkling earrings were glass, but the sparkle was as convincing as the Fool’s painted mouth and black-lined eyes. My boyhood friend had vanished and there was absolutely nothing of King Shrewd’s jester. I stared and knew again that jab of betrayal. How could he be so completely this person that I knew not at all? The gulf of uncertainty I felt was painful. I felt both deceived and excluded.

But I had no time to indulge in my feelings. The play had begun and I must find my role. The fingertips of her gloved hand rested on Spark’s shoulder as she was guided into the room. “Oh, my lady, they are here!” Spark exclaimed when she saw us. “Prince FitzChivalry and Lord Lant and even Perseverance. And they appear uninjured.”

At this news, Amber’s fingertips fluttered up to the Fool’s painted mouth in a completely feminine gesture of surprise and relief. He found my shape and exclaimed as Amber, “Oh, Fitz! Lant and Perseverance! You are safe. I am so relieved to know that you have taken no harm! Oh, Queen Malta, thank you, thank you for finding them and rescuing them. I am forever in your debt.”

“Indeed you are,” Malta said quietly. Had Amber forgotten she was dealing with a woman born a Bingtown Trader, one to whom every transaction in life was a bargain or an agreement or a deal? Then Malta added, “As I and much of Bingtown remain in yours. For I believe that a debt can be as mutual as a promise.”