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Piro despaired. Isolt was right. What could Fyn do to save them, or Byren? Palatyne had won the people with his half-truths and lies. They would have to win the hearts of everyone in Merofynia to defeat Palatyne.

The trumpets sounded again and the crowd fell silent.

The abbess of Cyena and the abbot of Mulcibar called on their goddess and god, praying for wisdom for the queen, who would be regent in her ailing father's place, with support from her husband, the royal consort.

Piro held her breath, willing something to happen but, apart from foreboding dark clouds coming so low that they seemed to touch the topmost spire of the palace, and the sultry heat growing ever more intense, nothing intervened to stop the ceremony.

The abbess took Isolt's hand. The abbot took Palatyne's and placed it over Isolt's. They gave their vows.

With a flourish Palatyne removed the pendants from around his neck. He draped them over Isolt's head so that they rested on her chest, glinting gold and silver. 'As a bridal gift, I present my queen with these tokens, the royal emblems of Rolencia!'

Resentment flooded Piro. To Palatyne those emblems were symbols of triumph, to her family they had contained the dignity of office.

In unison, the abbot and abbess each blessed the crown, then lifted it, taking one side each to place it on Isolt's head. Together they proclaimed her regent. Piro hid a smile. Clearly, the rivalry between the two great abbeys was as strong here as it was back in Rolencia.

Then the abbot and abbess repeated the process with Palatyne's crown, but it was Isolt who lifted it from the cushion.

The ambitious duke knelt at Isolt's feet. She picked up the crown, held it high for all to see, then placed it on Palatyne's head. Piro thought Isolt very restrained, considering she wished him dead.

And, suddenly, the combined wedding-coronation ceremony was over. The crowd cheered.

Piro sagged, exhausted by the heat and the tension.

The nobles parted so that the servants could carry the long tables forwards to the edge of the terrace. Other servants waited with food-laden trays. As soon as the tables and chairs were in position the nobles scurried to claim their places. Below them on the next terrace, less lucky nobles, gentry and wealthy merchants waited while their servants spread food on tables they had brought with them. Down on the lower terraces, people spread blankets on the grass and opened their picnic baskets. Musicians began to play from each turret, the music oddly thin and dull in the thick air.

All around Piro, the nobles talked and congratulated themselves, while the sky grew darker and the clouds took on an odd greenish tinge, giving the day an unreal quality. Piro's head throbbed. The very air felt strange to her, it seemed alive with more than the threat of the thunderstorm.

Her Affinity screamed a warning. She sensed Tyro drawing his power to himself, but with the Utlander ready to counter anything he attempted, Piro did not see what he could do.

Servants brought out roasted fowl, peacock, whole pigs, fresh fruit and glazed sweetbreads. And for the royal couple, whole white swans, Cyena's Affinity beasts, blessed by the abbess herself. Because Piro was Isolt's maid, she stood behind the regent's chair. Many servants, advisors and food tasters stood behind their lords and ladies. The Utlander sat next to the old king, whose chair had been placed next to Palatyne's. Isolt was on his right. Piro could not bring herself to think of him as the royal consort.

Palatyne came to his feet, lifting his goblet, signalling for silence to make a toast. A gem flashed on his little finger. Piro froze, recognising the poison ring.

This was the perfect opportunity for Palatyne to use it. Even if he ate or drank nothing else, the old king would automatically take a sip of the toast when his food taster held it to his lips. The king would appear to have died of natural means. After all, he was old and frail. Piro frowned. But if the food taster also died people would become suspicious.

'To Merofynia, greatest and fairest of all kingdoms!' Palatyne was used to roaring commands on the battlefield and his voice carried down to the shore, where town criers echoed him so that those on the boats and ships could hear. 'I promise I will seek out all those who threaten our peace and slay them!'

The people cheered.

Anger twisted inside Piro. Why didn't they see through Palatyne? He promised to make war, not peace.

Palatyne drank from his goblet, and everyone followed suit including the king's taster who took a mouthful and swallowed then held the goblet to Merofyn's lips. The old man managed a sip. Piro had been watching. Palatyne had not used the poison. Neither had he used his unistag horn.

Of course, he could not use it in front of Merofyn. By rights, such a valuable Affinity tool belonged to the king. Consumed by fear and greed, Palatyne had kept the horn for himself, but this meant he could not use it today at the feast.

The abbot of Mulcibar stood and made a speech, praising Palatyne, his allegiance clear. While everyone was watching him, Piro saw Palatyne lean close to Isolt. To everyone else he appeared to be making a lover's remark, pointing to her new emblems. Even the food taster was listening to the speech. Only Piro saw Palatyne flick the top off the ring and empty the powder into the king's goblet, the goblet which the food taster had already tested.

The abbot of Mulcibar finished his speech and lifted his goblet. Piro watched in fascinated horror as the king's food taster held the poisoned goblet to Merofyn's lips.

Palatyne smiled down the table at the abbot and drank from his own goblet. He wasn't even looking at the king as the old man bent his head to take a sip.

Piro had wanted to see King Merofyn dead, but she could not stand by and let Palatyne murder him. 'No!'

Palatyne looked up over his shoulder at her in irritated astonishment.

Even Piro was surprised. The plan had been to switch the goblets, but without Isolt's help to distract Palatyne she could not do it. 'Don't let King Merofyn drink. The wine is poisoned.'

'Nonsense!' Palatyne's voice boomed in the horrified silence. 'The food taster tested it.'

'You dropped the poison in while the abbot was speaking. I saw you do it.' Piro pointed to Palatyne's hand. 'Look at his ring. It has a false stone.'

'Let the ring be examined,' Isolt ordered.

Palatyne surged to his feet, knocking his chair over. A murmur of disquiet ran through the crowd. He flung a hand at Piro. 'She lies. Who would believe a slave, over me?'

Piro straightened. 'I am Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter. And I swear on my murdered mother's soul that I do not lie.'

'And I am the regent of Merofynia.' Isolt stood, small but commanding. 'If Piro Kingsdaughter lies, prove it, Palatyne. Drink freely from my father's goblet!'

The nobles muttered amongst themselves and Palatyne eyed the goblet. It contained certain death yet, if he refused, he confirmed his guilt.

Fierce justice poured through Piro. Thanks to Isolt, her family's murderer would be punished.

Fyn ground his teeth in frustration. He'd been watching Dunstany, ready to make his move on his signal, only to have Piro thwart their plans.

Now what should he do?

Movement in Byren's cage caught Fyn's eye. Even as he watched, his brother undid the lock on the cage door but held it closed. Unaware that their plan was in chaos, Byren waited for Fyn's signal.

Oblivious to the fact that their captive was free, the guards watched events unfold on the terrace. All around Fyn, Merofynia's finest citizens focused on Palatyne and Isolt.

Lord Dunstany came to his feet. 'I have been advisor to the kings of Merofynia for seventy years. Heed my advice, Royal Consort Palatyne. The nobles and commoners will not trust you to rule Merofynia unless you prove your innocence.'