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"My lady, how can it? Did he not bring you three lovely ladies along with him for that express purpose? And do we not feel a mutual attraction? Stronger than I have ever felt with any other woman." He tightened his arm about her waist, feeling the lissomeness of her slender body-and thinking thoughts no well-bred man should have of a lady he is dancing with.

"Oh, I do. I do, Jamas. That is why I must warn you. Oh, smile at me, quickly. He's watching."

Jamas complied, laughing lightly as if Willow had said something witty.

"He means to have Esphania through such a marriage, and I do not want to be part of it."

"Come now, Willow. He can't be such a schemer."

"Oh, he is not, but the queen is!" Through his arms, he could feel her convulsive shudder and saw the haunted look of terror in her eyes. "And if she has a son this time, I worry for my cousins."

Right then, he decided that he would remove that look from her eyes forever.

"I fear my father was murdered for his lands," she said, her mouth smiling as she looked up with anxious eyes at Jamas. "He was too experienced a horseman and an experienced hunter to have misjudged such a critical distance. I would not want the same fate to befall you. Besides," she went on, "surely you were betrothed in your cradle to a northern princess?"

Jamas shook his head. "I am however forewarned, and that is forearmed, dear Lady Willow, for I mean to marry you and remove such fear from your life."

"No, never! I couldn't marry you. I like you too much!" she cried, twisting out of his grasp and whirling away and off the dance floor.

"I love you, too, Lady Willow," he said in a loud enough voice to stop the music and cause everyone to stare at him.

Salinah, partnered with one of the Moxtell sons, glared furiously after Willow's disappearing figure. Egdril beamed and started forward, hand outstretched, evidently all too eager to acknowledge a relationship. Grenejon looked flabbergasted, the duchess surprised, Moxtell amazed, and all the others merely gawked. It was the white face and haunted eyes of Laurel which caught Jamas' gaze: it confirmed what Willow had said.

Then Jamas had to apologize to Egdril for his presumption, but the king dismissed it, beaming with delight that one of his "girls" had so captured the prince's interest. A sparkling wine was ordered and there was much drinking of toasts, and healths, and-ironically, under the circumstances-long happy lives.

The duchess went to fetch Willow from the walled garden to which she had fled. She had no escape, either, from the public announcement of his love for her. Laurel, still pale, with lips closed over her own sentiments, sat close by her sister, Jamas on the other side. Frenery was sent for and apprised of the engagement. Though initially astounded, the old secretary expressed the proper sentiments and promised to have a betrothal document drawn up by the morrow.

If the newly betrothed lady seemed stunned and kept very quiet, the prospective groom was voluble enough for both. He kept his lady's hand firmly in his.

They danced again and again until Lady Willow pleaded a headache and was allowed to retire with her sister.

The rest of the small party continued to celebrate until well into the new day.

"SO, MY PRINCE?" Grenejon asked when he firmly closed the door to make them private in Jamas' apartments, "why does the blushing bride look as if she is going to her death rather than her wedding?"

"Not her death, mine," Jamas said, sighing with relief as he loosened the collar of his formal tunic. He succinctly repeated what Willow had told him.

"You're mad, Jamie," and Grenejon collapsed into a chair, his face as pale as Willow's had been, "walking right into such a trap. Did not Mangan teach you better? And don't tell me you're madly in love or some such nonsense. Argh!"

Niffy bounded into the room, looking from one to the other, before she leaped to her prince's shoulder and stroked his cheek.

"Niffy approves."

"Niffy?" Grenejon dismissed approval from that quarter. "Now, that's adding folly to stupidity!"

"Don't be so patronizing, Gren. I'm going to rely heavily on Niffy’s special sensitivities."

"On the cat's?" Niffy said a distinct "Meh!" in Grenejon's direction, and he blinked. "Saving you from a barguas is quite a different matter to saving you from the connivance of an ambitious and murderous queen."

"Ah, but forearmed is forewarned, Gren, and you shall discover as discreetly as possible how these various nobles met their untimely ends."

"As if that would prevent yours! I mean, Willow's a lovely girl, but there are many lovely girls…"

"She has more than beauty, Grenejon," Jamas said stiffly, flexing hands that remembered the exciting touch of her. "She likes cats, and Niffy approves. Don't you?" He turned his face into the cat's fur and heard the loud rumble of her purr.

"You are mad, Jamas!" Grenejon repeated, rising to his feet. "Mad, mad, mad!"

"Yes, I am. Mad that my Willow should be put in such a position. And I wouldn't marry Salinah were I you. Your estate could be neatly absorbed into Egdril's kingdom, you know."

"Oh, I've already decided the Baroness Salinah wouldn't give me much connubial bliss!" Grenejon said, flinging those hands over his head in an expansive gesture as he paced in front of Jamas. "She would possibly accept a prince, but not a baron. She's infected with the same ambitions as her step-aunt. But you… you're the ruler of Esphania. We need you alive!"

"I'll live. I assure you." Jamas stroked Niffy, pleased at the fervor of his friend's concern.

GRENEJON KEPT UP his arguments even after the betrothal agreement was signed. Without mentioning it to his prospective uncle-in-law, Prince Jamas also signed a succession document, copies of which were lodged with his General of the Army, all his ministers, Moxtell, Earl of Oria, the Duke of Insaphar, and the Fennells. They couldn't object to his second cousin, since the youngster was young enough to be moulded, as he had been, for the princedom.

Egdril was further delighted when Prince Jamas insisted on a short engagement and asked for the wedding to be scheduled as soon as feasible.

A brief impasse occurred when Egdril said that he preferred the nuptials to take place in Mauritia.

"Ah, I wish I could concede to that point," Jamas said with a heavy sigh, "but I am prince of Esphania and owe my own citizens the pleasure of such a fine occasion."

Egdril marshalled quite a few arguments for Mauritia, most based on the fact that the wedding party-if it included all who must, or should, be invited-might tax Esphania's facilities.

Jamas laughed merrily, while Frenery and Grenejon hastily cleared their throats. As the men were seated in one of the smaller reception rooms-which could easily accommodate a full orchestra and two hundred dancing couples plus attendants-the contention had little merit.

"I shall allot the west wing to your majesty's immediate relations," Jamas said, with an airy wave of his hand towards that massive annex, "and I think we can comfortably house a few extra hundred without putting a strain on my resources."

Afterwards, Grenejon taxed Jamas with that bit of bravado.

"He'll want Castle Esphania even more now."

"Let him 'want' away," Jamas said, still elated at having had his way on what he considered major issues.

THE NEXT MORNING King Egdril eagerly prepared to set off for home, though messengers had carried the glad tidings to Mauritia the morning after that auspicious evening. Jamas and Willow didn't get much time together, and he had occupied the stolen moments in loving attentions which indeed she accepted and returned in spite of her fears. Jamas was rather pleased with his effect on her. Not to mention hers on him. Egdril was still doing more planning for the wedding than Jamas wanted done. But it was wise to allow Egdril to rattle on about country estates and dower provisions. Jamas knew how far he intended to go in this regard and would not be moved. Mangan had instructed him well in the art of negotiation.