Sparhawk looked out the window. ‘Yes,’ he agreed.

‘I’m going to be a queen someday, aren’t I?’

‘Unless you decide to throw it all over and go and herd goats somewhere, yes.’

She let that pass. ‘I’ll need a champion then, won’t I?’

‘I suppose so. I could do it if you like.’

‘When you’re eighty years old? You’re very imposing right now, father, but I suspect you’ll begin to get a little decrepit when you get older.’

‘Don’t rub it in.’

‘Sorry. And I’ll need a Prince Consort as well, won’t I?’

‘It’s customary. Why are we talking about this now, though?’

‘I want your advice, father, and your consent.’

‘Isn’t this a little premature? You’re only four years old, you know.’

‘A girl can’t start thinking about these things too early.’ She pointed down towards the courtyard. ‘I think that one right down there will do very nicely, don’t you?’ She sounded almost as if she were choosing a new ribbon for her hair.

‘Talen?’

‘Why not? I like him. He’s going to be a knight – Sir Talen, if you can believe that. He’s funny and really much nicer than he seems – besides, I can beat him at draughts, and we can’t spend all our time in bed, the way you and mother do.’

‘Danae!’

‘What?’ She looked up at him. ‘Why are you blushing, father?’

‘Never mind. You just watch what you say, young lady, or I will tell your mother who you really are.’

‘Fine,’ she said serenely, ‘and then I’ll tell her about Lillias. How would you like that?’

They looked at each other, and then they laughed.

It was about a week later. Sparhawk was hunched over a desk in the room he used as an office glaring at the Earl of Lenda’s latest proposal, an absurd idea which would quite nearly double the government payroll. He scribbled an angry note at the bottom. ‘Why not just make everyone in the whole kingdom a government employee, Lenda? Then we can all starve together.’

The door opened, and his daughter entered, carrying a rather disreputable-looking stuffed toy animal by one leg.

‘I’m busy, Danae,’ he said shortly.

She closed the door firmly. ‘You’re a grouch, Sparhawk,’ she said crisply.

He looked around quickly, went to the door to the adjoining room and carefully closed it. ‘Sorry, Aphrael,’ he apologized. ‘I’m a little out of sorts.’

‘I noticed that. Everybody in the palace has noticed that.’ She held out her toy. ‘Would you like to kick Rollo across the room? He won’t mind, and it might make you feel better.’

He laughed, feeling just a little silly. ‘That is Rollo, isn’t it? Your mother used to carry him in exactly the same way – before his stuffing fell out.’

‘She had him restuffed and gave him to me,’ Aphrael said. ‘I guess I’m supposed to carry him around, though I can’t for the life of me think why. I’d really much rather have a baby goat.’

‘This is something important, I take it?’

‘Yes. I had a long talk with the others.’

His mind shied away from the implications contained in that simple statement. ‘What did they say?’

‘They weren’t really very nice, father. They’re all blaming me for what happened in Zemoch. They wouldn’t even listen to me when I tried to tell them that it was all your fault.’

‘My fault? Thanks.’

‘They’re not going to help at all,’ she continued, ‘so it’s going to be up to you and me, I’m afraid.’

‘We’re going to go fix the world? All by ourselves?’

‘It’s not really all that difficult, father. I’ve made some arrangements. Our friends will begin arriving very soon. Act as if you’re surprised to see them, and then don’t let them leave.’

‘Are they going to help us?’

‘They’re going to help me, father. I’ll need them around me when I do this. I’m going to need a great deal of love to make it work. Hello, mother.’ She said it without even turning towards the door.

‘Danae,’ Ehlana chided her daughter, ‘you know you’re not supposed to disturb your father when he’s working.’

‘Rollo wanted to see him, mother,’ Danae lied glibly. ‘I told him that we weren’t supposed to bother father when he’s busy, but you know how Rollo is.’ She said it so seriously that it almost sounded plausible. Then she lifted the disreputable-looking toy animal and shook her finger in his face. ‘Bad, bad Rollo,’ she scolded.

Ehlana laughed and rushed to her daughter. ‘Isn’t she adorable?’ she said happily to Sparhawk as she knelt to embrace the little girl.

‘Oh, yes,’ he smiled. ‘She’s that, all right. She’s even better at that than you were.’ He made a rueful face. ‘I think it’s my destiny to be wrapped around the fingers of a pair of very devious little girls.’

The Princess Danae and her mother put their cheeks together and gave him an almost identical look of artfully-contrived innocence.

Their friends began to arrive the next day, and each of them had a perfectly legitimate reason for being in Cimmura. For the most part, those reasons involved the bringing of bad news. Ulath had come south from Emsat to report that the years of hard drinking had finally begun to take their toll on King Wargun’s liver. ‘He’s the colour of an apricot,’ the big Thalesian told them. Tynian told them that the ancient King Obler appeared to be slipping into his dotage, and Bevier advised that word coming out of Rendor hinted at the strong possibility of another Eshandist uprising. In marked contrast, Stragen reported that his business had taken a marked turn for the better, and that particular news was probably even worse than all the rest.

Despite all the bad news, the old friends took advantage of what appeared to be a chance meeting to stage something in the nature of a reunion.

It was good to have them all around him again, Sparhawk decided one morning as he slipped out of bed quietly to avoid awakening his sleeping wife, but sitting up talking with them for half the night and then rising early to attend to his other duties was leaving him more than a little short of sleep.

‘Close the door, father,’ Danae said quietly as he came out of the bedroom. She sat curled up in a large chair near the fire. She was wearing her nightdress, and her bare feet had those tell-tale grass-stains on them.