Before I could think of a reply to that, he demanded to know why I had canceled all the Prince’s Skill lessons until after the Bingtown representatives had left. The Prince had already asked that question. I said to Chade what I’d told the Prince: that I feared that the scaled boy in the Bingtown party had some sensitivity to the Skill, and that until the Traders departed, we would limit our lessons to translating scrolls together. The Prince was not patient with these more mundane studies. My suspicion of the veiled Trader intrigued both him and Chade. Thrice Chade had chewed over Selden Vestrit’s conversation with me. Neither of us could find any meat in it. I was learning that sometimes it was easier to keep Chade uninformed than to give him bits of information he could not confirm. Such as telling him of the Narcheska’s tattoos.

I know he spent some hours of his own time at the spyhole without glimpsing her tattoos. As she had not made any complaint about her health, he could not send the healer to her rooms to confirm what I had seen. Elliania had pointedly refused several invitations to ride or game with the Prince, so Dutiful could make no observations on whether or not she seemed to be in pain. And the Queen dared not make too many pressing invitations lest it appear that the Six Duchies desired the betrothal to proceed more than the Out Islands did. In the end, all they had was my account of what I had seen. It baffled all of us, as did her handmaid, Henja.

That woman remained a complete cipher to us. Her references to a Lady were unclear, unless she referred to an older female relative with authority over Elliania. Discreet inquiries in that area availed us nothing. Chade’s spies had failed us as well. Twice Henja had been followed down into Buckkeep Town. Each time she had vanished from their scrutiny, once in a market crowd, and once simply by turning a corner. We had no idea who she saw in town, or even if it was of any significance. The arcane punishment of the searing tattoos bespoke a magic that neither of us knew. Perhaps we should have felt glad of an unseen power urging the Narcheska to make strong her betrothal to the Prince. Instead, we both were dismayed by the dark cruelty of it. “Are you sure Lord Golden could not cast some light on this?” Chade demanded abruptly. “I recall him telling several people at a dinner that he had once made quite a hobby of studying the Out Islands’ history and culture.”

I shrugged eloquently.

Chade snorted. “Have you asked him yet?”

“No,” I replied shortly. Then, as he lowered his brows at me, I added, “I told you. He has taken to his bed and scarcely comes out. Even his meals are taken in to him. He has the curtains drawn, both across his windows and about his bed.”

“But you don’t think he is ill?”

“He hasn’t said he is ill, but that is the impression he lets his serving boy chatter about the keep. Sometimes I think that was half his reason for taking Char on, so that the boy could be fed the rumors he wishes to spread. I think that the truth is that he wishes to avoid any public appearances until after the Bingtown folk have departed. He lived there for some time, and while he was there, he was certainly not known as the Fool, or as Lord Golden. I think he fears that if one of them recognized him, it could cause difficulties for him at court.”

“Well. I suppose that’s sensible then. But it’s damned inconvenient for me. Look, Fitz, can’t you just go in and talk to him? See if he has any ideas about this Selden Vestrit being Skilled?”

“As he has no Skill himself, I don’t think he could possibly have detected that aura from Vestrit.”

Chade set down his wine cup. “But you haven’t asked him, have you?”

I lifted my cup and drank from it to gain a moment. “No,” I said as I set it down. “I haven’t.”

He peered at me. After a moment, he said in amazement, “You two have had a falling-out of some sort, haven’t you?”

“I’d rather not discuss it,” I said stiffly.

“Hmf. Wonderful timing on everyone’s part. Let’s mix the Bingtown Traders with the Outislanders, and in the midst of it you can offend the Queen’s favorite minstrel, and then have some silly squabble with the Fool that renders you both all but useless.” He leaned back in his chair in disgust as if we had done it solely to inconvenience him.

“I doubt he would have any insights on this,” I replied. I had not been able to bring myself to say more than a dozen words to him in the last three days, but I was not going to share that with Chade. If the Fool had noticed my coldness, he had ignored it. He had given Tom Badgerlock an order to turn away all guests at the door until he was feeling more like himself, and so I had. I spent as little time in the chambers we shared as possible. Yet several times, when I returned to the room, I saw small signs that someone had called while I was gone, and it was not just Char the serving boy tidying things. Jek came and went when I was not there, then, for I recognized Jek’s spicy perfume lingering in our chambers.