Early into the speech, Kettricken had sat up straighter and looked incredulously at Regal, obviously unable to believe that he would quietly nod and smile to praises not his due. If anyone besides myself noticed the Queen’s expression, none commented on it. The second toast, predictably, came from Duke Ram of Tilth. He offered a toast to the memory of King-in-Waiting Verity. This was a eulogy, but a condescending one, speaking of all that Verity had attempted and intended and dreamed of and wished for. His achievements already having been heaped on Regal’s plate, there was little left to add. Kettricken grew, if anything, whiter and more pinched about the mouth.

I believe that when Duke Ram finished, she was on the verge of rising to speak herself. But Regal arose, almost hastily, holding up his newly filled glass. He motioned all to silence, then extended that glass toward the Queen.

“Too much has been said of me this night, and too little of our most fair Queen-in-Waiting, Kettricken. She has returned home to find herself most sadly bereaved. Yet I do not think my late brother Verity would wish sorrow for his death to overshadow all that is due his lady by her own effort. Despite her condition”—and the knowing smile of Regal’s face was perilously close to a sneer—“she deemed it in the best interests of her adopted kingdom to venture forth to confront the Red-Ships herself. Doubtless many Raiders fell to her valiant sword. No one can doubt that our soldiers were inspired by the sight of their queen, determined to do battle on their behalf, regardless of what she risked.”

Two spots of high color began to glow on Kettricken’s cheeks. Regal continued, shading his account of Kettricken’s deeds with condescension and flattery. The insincerity of his courtier’s phrases somehow diminished her deed to something done for show.

I looked in vain for someone at the High Table to champion her. For me to rise from my common place and pit my voice against Regal’s would have seemed almost more mocking. Kettricken, never sure of her place in her husband’s court, and now without him to sustain her, seemed to shrink in on herself. Regal’s retelling of her exploits made them seem questionable and reckless rather than daring and decisive. I saw her dwindle before herself, and knew she would not speak up for herself now. The meal resumed with a very subdued Queen attending to the addled King Shrewd beside her, grave and silent to the King’s vague efforts at conversation.

But worse was to come. At the end of the meal, Regal once more called for silence. He promised the assembled folk that there would be minstrels and puppeteers to follow the meal, but asked them to endure while he announced but one more thing. After much grave consideration and great consultation, and with great reluctance, he had realized what the attack at Neatbay had justly proven. Buckkeep itself was no longer the safe and secure place it was once. It was certainly no place for anyone of delicate health. And so, a decision had been reached that King Shrewd (and the King lifted up his head and blinked about at the mention of his name) would be journeying inland, to reside in safety at Tradeford on the Vin River in Farrow until his health had improved. Here he paused to lavishly thank Duke Holder of Farrow for making the Tradeford Castle available to the royal family. He added, too, that he was greatly pleased it was so accessible to both the main castles of Farrow and Tilth, for he wished to remain in good contact with these most loyal Dukes, who had so often of late journeyed so far to assist him in these troubled, troubled times. It would please Regal to bring the life of the royal court to the ones who had previously had to travel far to enjoy it. Here he paused to accept their nodded thanks and murmurs of continued support. They subsided in immediate obedience when he next raised his hand.

He invited, nay, he entreated, he begged the Queen-in-Waiting to join King Shrewd there. She would be more safe, she would find it more comfortable, for Tradeford Castle had been built as a home, not a fortress. It would put the minds of her subjects at rest to know that the coming heir and his mother were well cared for and well away from the dangerous coast. He promised that every effort would be made to make her feel at home. He promised her a merry court would re-form there. Many many of the furnishings and treasures of Buckkeep were to be moved there when the King went, to make the move less upsetting for him. Regal smiled all the while that he relegated his father to a position of elderly idiot and Kettricken to broodmare. He dared to pause to hear her acceptance of her fate.

“I cannot,” she said with great dignity. “Buckkeep is where my lord Verity left me, and before he did so, he commended it to my care. Here I shall stay. This is where my child will be born.”

Regal turned his head, ostensibly to hide a smile from her, but actually to display it better to the assemblage. “Buckkeep shall be well guarded, my lady queen. My own cousin, Lord Bright, heir to Farrow, has expressed an interest in assuming the defense of it. The full militia will be left in place here, for we have no need of them at Tradeford. I doubt that they shall need the assistance of one more woman hampered by her skirts and a burgeoning belly.”