Free 0425277054 (F) by Sharon Shinn Page A

slowly. “But I would bet there is a lot of coru thrown in.”
    “Coru?”
    “The sign for water. Adaptable, open to change, and full of surprises.”
    His smile was back. “Interesting. I think I shall take that as a compliment.” He nodded to where Filomara sat halfway around the table. “What about my aunt? How does she fit in your world?”
    Corene almost laughed. “Oh, there’s no doubt that she’s hunti! Wood and bone. Strong, powerful, and determined. Hunti people are utterly reliable—but so stubborn that trying to change one is like trying to kick a brick wall down with your bare feet.”
    He couldn’t restrain his laughter. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d just spent a couple of ninedays with my aunt in close quarters. That describes her perfectly.”
    “My father as well,” she said. “My guess is that hunti folk are commonly found among the monarchy. It takes great strength of will to rule a country.”
    Jiramondi glanced thoughtfully around the table, his gaze resting briefly on Garameno and Greggorio. Greggorio, who seemed to have run out of things to say to Liramelli, stared right back. “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But I don’t think either of my cousins are any more—What did you call it?—hunti than I am. I wonder what that says about our chances for success as rulers.”
    “You said it yourself,” she answered. “You make your own choices about who you want to be. And, I would think, how you want to rule.” She toyed with the stem of her water glass. “Or you could choose a hunti bride.”
    “Someone whose assets make up for my deficits,” he said. “Yes. A wise course of action, I’m sure.”
    Greggorio leaned across the table, offering an attractive smile. He was so good-looking he was almost pretty, and his face held none of the sharpness that characterized both of his cousins. “Princess Corene!” he exclaimed in Malinquese. “I haven’t said a word to you all night. Tell me how you like Palminera so far.”
    The conversation became more general at that point, and more stilted. The tête-à-tête with Jiramondi had been unexpectedly enjoyable, even more so by contrast with the rest of the meal. Corene labored through the unfamiliar language, well aware that she missed a good third of what was being said, and tried to keep her expression civil as she accidentally took another bite of that wretched zeezin. There was no dessert served at the end of the meal, as she was accustomed to, though the servants came through pouring some sweet, heavy wine that seemed to signal the final course. Everyone else at the table sipped it with obvious pleasure, but Corene found it syrupy and cloying.
    So far, there wasn’t much about Malinqua that she actually liked . She thought she liked Melissande, but the other girl might not be trustworthy—and, anyway, Melissande wasn’t even from Malinqua.
    Not the best way to start a quest for a foreign crown.
    She found herself fighting off a yawn and hoping the meal was almost over so she could seek her room and collapse. She was delighted when Filomara came to her feet and everyone—except Garameno—followed suit.
    “It was a pleasure to see you all,” she said, showing no pleasure. “Good night.”
    “Oh, but wait,” Garameno spoke up. “I had a question.”
    She looked impatient. “Yes?”
    He was smiling as if he knew he was about to delight her. “Why didn’t you tell us your good news? Even for you, this can’t be a trivial thing.”
    Everyone else was staring at him, but Corene watched Filomara. The empress mostly kept her expression under control, but Corene saw her lips tighten and her eyes grow colder. “Maybe it’s news that’s not ready to be shared.”
    “But it is !” Garameno exclaimed. He made a sweeping gesture with both hands. “Everyone—you should know. Filomara has returned from Welce with a living grandson in tow. Sadly, as we all know, Subriella is dead, but what we didn’t