From time to time thereafter, he dropped the odd morsel. Each time he felt the weight shift from his foot for a moment or two. When Niffy resumed her position, she purred her thanks. She particularly liked the liver and purred so loudly that Jamas was certain everyone else could hear her.
No matter, his offerings were acceptable to Niffy. After all, Jamas thought, she would be missing her master, so why shouldn't she share in the feast?
NIFFY ALSO DECIDED to share the prince's bed, for she was there when Jamas finally sought it.
"Did we feast and wine Mangan properly, Niffy cat?" he asked her, and she gave him her green-eyed smile from her seat on his pillow. He was oddly reassured to see her there. She'd been so close to the old regent she might have taken it into her head to dwindle away. Some animals did when their masters died.
He'd never permitted dogs in his bedroom-not after the first occasion. They were such restless sleepers, always chasing something that got away in their dreams and yipping as well as scrabbling their nails on the bare wood floors. They also tended to smell. Cats, however, were notoriously clean and neat and slept quietly, curled up in mounds of fur.
As he climbed into his bed and pulled the curtains against the draughts that could not be excluded from the castle, he was glad that he had always insisted-from the time he was eight-that he was old enough to sleep by himself and without the ceremonies generally besetting a ruler at bedtime. He had been pleased that Mangan had supported this alteration in custom. His valets and equerries could fuss over him all they wanted in his dressing rooms, but his bedroom was his private place: a fact he appreciated even more after the onset of puberty.
Jamas was as well favored as his ancestors had been, and not just in looks. And he was as lusty as the best, if not as insatiable as some. (Mangan had handled that aspect of his education deftly.)
There just happened to be a secret passage from the West Tower up to the prince's bedchamber. In fact, the castle was rather well equipped with such discreet amenities. Mangan had taught his young charge where every single one of them went and how to open the hidden locks.
"Did Mangan teach you all the secret ways, too, Niffy?" Jamas asked the cat as he pulled his covers up. "Is that how you got here before I could?"
She blinked slowly. He couldn't be sure if that meant agreement.
"I didn't see you on the steps and you certainly didn't leave the hall before I did. I felt you on my feet all night long. Did you get enough to eat?"
Niffy then smiled her feline smile and, seeing him settled, circled a spot level with his head on the spare pillow and lay down.
"You miss him, don't you?" he said, reaching up to stroke her head.
She purred.
"I will, too."
Her purr deepened. She smiled at him again, then tucked her head down. Shortly after that her purr dwindled into silence.
NO ONE QUITE noticed when Niffy became a fixture in the prince's vicinity. Perhaps they had been so accustomed to her presence with the regent that it was unremarkable.
"You seem to have been adopted," Baron Grenejon said one morning, when he saw Niffy jump up on the prince's desk as Jamas was rereading the latest demands from his southwestern neighbor, the self-styled King Egdril… Egdril the Eager, he was often called. This "king" had eagerly annexed a small but well managed valley when its count and his heir had been killed in a boating accident. He had eagerly taken, for his second wife, the clever daughter of a duke farther south, acquiring additional lands. He had eagerly disposed of some rather annoying pirates on the Great Inland Sea as well as their ships, eagerly acquiring their routes for more peaceful trades.
"Adopted by Niffy?" the prince said, reaching out to run a welcoming hand down her luxurious, silky fur. "Yes, well, I guess you could call it that. Found her in my room the night of Mangan's feast. Poor thing misses him, and I don't mind. Sleeps on my pillow."
Grenejon raised dark well-formed eyebrows. "Every night?" The prince laughed because he suspected Grenejon knew that the pretty brunette dancer from the troupe just then entertaining at the castle had eyed the handsome young prince in the manner which often led to beddings. As indeed it had.
"Mangan raised that cat. She's as discreet as he was."
"Hmmm, yes. You know, Mangan was sort of feline in the way he could maneuver around obstacles and problems."
"Like this one?" Jamas said, slapping the document with some asperity.
"Exactly. Now, what would Mangan say we should do?"
Jamas, who was rather hoping Grenejon would suggest a show of force, exhaled an abrupt breath. He gazed out across the room, catching Niffy scrupulously cleaning her claws.
"I'd show him mine, I think."
"Beg pardon?"
Abruptly certain now of a course of action that could be just as much fun as a battle but less dangerous, Jamas tilted his chair back, balancing himself deftly. "Why, we invite our brother ruler to join us in a hunt. I know there's been a report of barguas in the Fial Valley on our mutual border. King Egdril fancies himself a hunter. Well, barguas make excellent sport. Let us show him how we Esphanians deal with… predators."
"Oh, an excellent idea, my Prince."
"Good. Make the arrangements, Grenejon. I shall answer this now. Frenery!" Jamas called, and the secretary peered round the door. "A letter! Oh, Grenejon," he added to his equerry, "this won't take long. Have the courier ready to ride."
Frenery was not quite as elderly as he looked or acted, and he wrote quickly in a fair hand, never faltering as he took the prince's dictation. He also nodded and smiled his approval of the courtly and complimentary phrases in which Jamas couched the invitation to his fellow monarch. (Actually, Esphania was a much larger principality than King Egdril's, even after the recent acquisitions. Traditionally, Esphania rulers were princes; having had their domains as gifts from an emperor long since dead and an empire long since divided into smaller principalities, princedoms, and provinces which had managed to remain intact.)
Frenery handed the completed parchment to the prince, while he held wax to the candle. The prince took off his heavy signet ring and affixed his seal to the wax.
Niffy had finished her ablutions, and now she peered over at the document.
"Oh, do be careful, Niffy," Frenery said, about to brush the cat aside. "The ink's not quite dry."
"She won't smear it," Jamas said indulgently and turned the letter slightly to the right so that the cat could "read" it. "What do you think, Niffy? Have I struck the right note?"
She gave a soft sort of noise deep in her throat and then, leaping gracefully off the desk, proceeded to curl up in the sun on the window seat.
"Now that it's approved," Jamas said, grinning at Frenery, "I'll sign it."
Frenery regarded his prince with wide-eyed concern and managed a little laugh.
"My Prince will have his little joke."
Jamas regarded his secretary with a bland expression. "And what if it isn't a joke, good old Frenery?"
"Oh?" Frenery shot him a worried glance.
Jamas laughed, pleased at the effect of his remark. "Do take this to the courier and urge him to waste no time in its delivery. I would ask you to join us in the hunt, Frenery, but…" He grinned again as Frenery waved his hands in dismay. "I do believe hunting barguas is not your favorite occupation. You can mind Niffy for me during my absence. She misses Mangan, you know."
"Oh, yes, certainly, my Prince. Yes, she does, for I often find her in his quarters."
"So that's where she goes when she's not lounging around mine."
"Should I… I mean, well, are you… will you need… that tower?"
"Am I replacing Mangan? That's impossible. No, leave his quarters as they are. It isn't that the castle lacks other apartments, is it?"