Free 0425277054 (F) by Sharon Shinn Page B

know is that she had two sons—and one of them has come to visit us today.”
    Naturally, that caused pandemonium as everyone burst into conversation at once. What? Subriella has living offspring? A grandson? Another heir? What was that? What did Garameno say?
    Corene saw bewilderment on Greggorio’s face, calculation onJiramondi’s, and angry satisfaction on Garameno’s. She interpreted that to be a message to his aunt: You cannot outmaneuver me. Include me in your plans or see those plans upended. Clever, Corene thought.
    Corene glanced at the others to try to assess their reactions. Steff, of course, was trying to hide flat dismay under a stoic demeanor. The prefect and the other city officials were offering Filomara congratulations, but she saw worry under their smiles; what they wanted was a stable succession, and too many heirs threatened that stability. Alette showed no expression at all, but Liramelli looked intrigued. Maybe she thought Steff might be a more attractive marriage prospect than the three young men she’d known her whole life. Melissande, predictably, appeared delighted, at both the new candidate and the chaos. When she caught Corene’s eyes on her, she laughed and pursed her mouth into a kiss.
    Filomara raised her hands for silence, and everyone subsided. Her face was set in grimmer than ordinary lines. “Yes. My daughter did indeed escape her marriage in Berringey and keep two sons alive. One remains in Welce, and one has accompanied me here.” Now she gestured at Steff, whose face became even more masklike.
    “But this is so exciting!” Jiramondi exclaimed. “Weren’t you going to tell us?”
    “Of course I was,” she snapped. “But I wanted to conduct tests. I wanted to be absolutely certain.” Her dark eyes rested on Steff a moment and Corene thought she saw a flicker of pain. “The story put forth by Steffanolo and his family was convincing, yet I am sure you all would agree that science trumps anecdotes. If he is not in fact mine, I do not want to embrace him.”
    The prefect spoke up. “You said Subriella bore two sons. Will we have the opportunity to meet this young man’s brother?”
    “If you sail to Welce, you will,” Filomara replied with a trace of humor. “There are circumstances that prevent him from traveling beyond those borders.”
    “Then you don’t expect him to join the long and ever-growing list of contenders for your throne?” Garameno said a little too sharply.
    Conversation died to nothing. Filomara and her oldest nephew locked gazes. “Lerafi will never leave Welce,” she said deliberately. “Ifhe ever wears a crown, it will be in that country, for he is attached to one of the old king’s daughters.”
    “But I don’t understand,” Greggorio said. “Are you thinking of passing the crown to this stranger? Instead of one of us?”
    “Yes, Greggorio, that’s exactly what she’s considering,” Garameno said, his voice edged. “He is directly in line for the throne.”
    “I have made no decisions yet,” Filomara snapped. “I have not even verified his lineage. I would thank you to not presume to know my own mind before I know it myself.”
    “And yet, everyone will want to learn about him,” Jiramondi said smoothly. “Everyone will want to lionize him. I mean, he’ll be so popular. Just look at him.”
    Of course, when everyone turned to stare at Steff, he looked like nothing so much as a small boy caught stealing the baker’s pies—chagrined and nervous and braced for terrible consequences. I warned you this would not be easy, Corene thought.
    Melissande’s laugh trilled out, and she strolled around the table to lay her hand on Steff’s sleeve. Surely it was random coincidence that her indigo dress paired so nicely with his blue tunic. She could have had no idea who he was or what he might be wearing to this dinner, could she?
    “I for one will be happy to look at him,” she said gaily. “A handsome prince! Every girl’s dream come