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"The Duchess of Carm," Achan said. "I know. Sir Caleb told me."

"Aye. Then she was merely a lesser noblewoman from Tsaftown, and I was a lesser nobleman from Zerah Rock. I knew the gods had blessed me. We were perfect for each other. I spent the summer courting her with all my efforts. It worked quite well. She professed her love for me daily, and I her."

"But her father refused?"

"Her father did not care either way, until Duke Amal saw her at a banquet that fall. He saw her and wanted her. He was older, richer, and Duke of Carm. Nitsa's father gave his blessing that night. That night, my boy. Amal did not love her. He had never even spoken to her. But he snagged her from me and there was nothing I could do. I begged her to run away, of course, but she would not desert her family. They were married a month later.

"My father expected me to go on like nothing had changed. 'Pick another girl,' he told me over and over. But I did not want another girl. And I refused to go to court and pretend I did not see Nitsa by his side…then Averella."

"Averella? That's the lady Esek wishes to marry."

Sir Eagan met Achan's eyes. "What do you know of that story, for I have heard little?"

"Oh, I know little, as well. Esek wanted to marry her to gain control of Carm. So she went into hiding. She's betrothed to a friend of mine. Bran Rennan is your brother's squire."

"He is a nobleman?"

"The cousin of one, I think. Yet I fear Bran's feelings have changed." Achan frowned at the thought of Bran and Gren but forced himself to stay on topic. The conversation distracted his pain. "Both Esek and Lord Nathak have been trying to take Carm by marriage. Esek to the lady Averella and Lord Nathak to the duchess. He's been asking for her hand for the past few years. Before Duke Amal was in the ground, they say."

"Duke Amal is dead?" Eagan gripped Achan's wounded arm. "Are you certain?"

Achan cried out. "Careful!"

Sir Eagan released Achan's arm. "Forgive me. I forgot."

Achan cradled his arm until the throb lessened. "The duke died three or four years back. From a fever, I think."

Eagan exhaled. "Perhaps there is still hope."

"For what?"

"That after all this time, almost eighteen years…that Arman might reunite me with my family. This old man might find love yet."

Achan studied Sir Eagan's wistful expression. "Then you do understand."

"I do, my boy."

"But I've loved two women and both denied me."

"Two women and only sixteen years of age? My, you are wise to protect your heart so."

"You mock me?"

"I seek only to lighten your melancholy. You are a prince. You cannot marry just anyone, nor should you pledge your heart or body to anyone until you do marry. And frankly, Your Highness, I do not recommend taking multiple wives and mistresses. It is not how Arman designed it. I know kings have different views on such things, but-"

"I would never." Sparrow's horror had been enough to strike that idea from his mind. What might Gren say about such a thing? Would she agree with Sparrow?

Sir Eagan patted Achan's shoulder. "An admirable declaration now, but when the desire comes into your heart and you have the power to have anything you want… Temptation is a cruel thing. I urge you to understand: love is much more than what you feel. That, Your Highness, is the desire of a man for a woman. You would be wise to discern the difference before those feelings best you."

"Then what is love?"

"For you to love Vrell? Love is sacrifice, letting her go because it is her choice and the right thing to do."

But Achan had done that for Gren. He had arranged her marriage to Riga to keep her safe from Esek. And what good had come of it? Riga was dead. Gren with child. And Achan was still alone. "How can you say your sacrifice was right when your lady didn't wish to marry the duke?"

"Because I have lived through my pain to see the other side. Duty calls men and women to all kinds of sacrifice. But when the lusts of our hearts blinds us, we sacrifice goodness to get what we want. In anger I turned away from my birthright, I gave it up to wallow in my pity of losing Nitsa. Now I discover my father's second son has pledged his service to you. So who will rule Zerah Rock when my father dies? He has no other heir. Some minor noble will likely take the stronghold. Maybe he will be true to the Barak heritage, maybe he will not.

"And Zerah Rock is but a small city in a distant corner of your kingdom." Sir Eagan poked Achan lightly in the chest. "It means little in the scheme of things. But consequences are often more far-reaching than any man realizes. Should you forsake your birthright to chase after the love of your heart, what will become of Er'Rets? Who will rule in your stead? Esek? Lord Nathak? Who will protect your people? Each faction will attack the other. They will take the land in small bites until all is devoured by Darkness. Innocent men, women, and children will die."

Achan stared at Owr, partially hidden by the short grass.

Sir Eagan went on. "Whether you like it or not, Arman has chosen you. This is the highest calling a man can receive. So ask yourself, my prince, what price is the love of your heart worth? The death of your father and mother? Lord Livna? Fifteen men in battle yesterday? How many would you allow to die for nothing so you and the love of your heart can be together? You may not like the meal you have been served, but will you at least show yourself worthy of it? Many have given their lives to see you to this place. Would you forsake their sacrifice for your own?"

"Why can't I have both?"

"You will, someday, find what you seek. Arman will give you the desire of your heart when his timing is right."

Achan searched his memory for his least-favorable match on Sir Caleb's list. "Lady Halona of Nesos? She's twelve."

"She will grow. Girls do, you know, grow into women."

"But she's not my choice."

"No. And for that, I am sorry, and I do understand. You need only say the word 'sacrifice' to me and I shall spirit you and Owr away to the nearest forest and you shall attack whatever trees you see fit, if that will help you with the pain. But I assure you, my prince, from a man who understands your pain, destroying trees will not help. Only Arman can."

Achan lay in bed that night staring at the low tinder ceiling and listening to the waterfall pound on the roof like rain, the perfect cadence for his mood. Sir Eagan's words rang true in his heart.

But how could he let Sparrow walk away? What if he never saw her again? He couldn't lose another friend. He didn't have many, considering the scores of people who now surrounded him on a daily basis.

Shung. He did have Shung.

He'd go to Sparrow tomorrow and beg her forgiveness. He'd do his duty and let her go, but not before finding out where she lived. If she'd fled from a horrible place, it might not be safe for her to go back. Perhaps he could find her a better place to live.

A place where he could visit from time to time.

He'd revoke the declarations of his heart, even if that was a lie and against his nature. But he would not give up his friend.

Part 5. Partings

39

Achan thrashed through the night, his right arm sore, his mind active with memories of Esek, the cham, and Sparrow.

The next morning, he and Shung found the great hall crowded for breakfast. The high table, however, was empty. Achan limped up the steps to the high table, ignoring the stares of those eating below. He and Shung must look half dead. Both had arms in slings, Achan's from the cham's teeth. Shung's from the cham's fire.