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undergarments and a silver belt-wrap. Out of habit, he tucked his dagger into the fabric, the one his uncle had given him upon his marriage to Karis.
          Taking a deep breath, Ziyad vaguely remembered a dream he'd had the night before. He'd been holding Karis in his arms. He'd called to her, but she left their shelter. She'd told him to go back to sleep.
          Gods. That hadn't been Karis. That had been Amani.
          He closed his eyes with regret. She'd called him her love, no doubt to calm him so he wouldn't waken fully. He could only imagine what had crossed her mind at being mistaken for his princess. He knew her position as merely his wife was taking its toll on her. But Amani hadn't complained, at least not with her words. Her body betrayed her on more than one occasion. Especially after he'd mentioned his fellow princes would be jealous of her.
          The moment he'd said that, he'd mentally kicked himself. Her bright, genuine smile had faded, and he could only blame himself for bringing that dark cloud across her pretty face.
          Ziyad stepped from his carav and instinctively looked down the line at Amani's carav. There was his cousin Hyram, lounging in the grasses by the water, as if soaking up the sun. The Spider growled low in his throat.
          "Ziyad!" Khalil's voice boomed from his own caravan. "I've come to take advantage of those favors you still owe me!"
          Ziyad turned and smiled at the sight. Khalil and Zara walked toward him, each of them waving. Their son, Akim, held firmly to his father's hand. Ziyad couldn't be happier for the Falcon and his princess, who'd conceived his heir shortly after they'd killed the vile witch known as Mother.
          Ziyad closed the gap between them and hugged each of them in turn. "It has been too long!"
          "Yes," Khalil said, returning his hug. "It has." He looked over Ziyad's head. "Where's your wife?"
          "Resting, I assume."
          "But it's nearing midday! I say we wake her and catch up on old times." Khalil gestured to Zara. She smiled at him and took his hand. Ziyad fell into step next to the Falcon, who was marching toward his royal carav.
          "She's not in there," he said, glancing at his friend.
          Khalil stopped walking. "Well, where is she, then?"
          "Her own carav."
          His old friend's look darkened, making the threeclawed scars on his face seem all the deeper. "You have put her in her own carav?"
          Ziyad fidgeted. Damn Khalil, but he was the prince of this caravan, not the Falcon! How dare he arrive and make him feel like a steaming pile of hatshef for giving his wife her own place to stay.
          "She is not my princess," the Spider said, lifting his chin and giving his words a confidence that he didn't feel.
          "Right," Khalil said sourly. "She is merely your wife. How obtuse of me to think your wife and your princess are one in the same."
          "You know my princess is Karis."
          "I know Karis is dead!"
          Zara gasped. "Khalil, perhaps we should…" He put up his hand to stop her. She closed her mouth and took their son in her arms.
          Ziyad's temper suddenly flared at Khalil's stance of self-righteousness. He'd never had to live through losing the woman he loved.
          "Who are you to tell me what I do with my people?" he spat.
          "I am your peer, Spider Prince," Khalil said, his voice low. "I am the only one present with any authority to knock some sense into you. And you know damn well your god doesn't care what you call Amani. She is your princess!"
          Ziyad began to feel like he'd been backed into a
    corner. His fists balled and his body tensed for a fight. He knew he'd have to confront the Falcon sooner or later. He'd been hoping for later.
          "Karis wears my armband," Ziyad said, trying like mad to keep his voice