Explanations to Aunt Pan were never fun, but she'd managed to make them. Then she'd spent a restless night counting the hours to Estela's knighting. Now, at last, it had arrived.

Within the high-ceilinged throne room, Estela kneeled before Steward Benarus. She wore a beautiful blue cloak around her, far better than her ragged old one. Her armor was repaired and polished, and her dark hair was carefully combed. Relma had never seen anyone look so elegant, she thought to herself. Estela looked like something out of the stained windows all around them. Fit to be displayed in one of the scenes of courage above. Perhaps she would be on one of them someday.

It was both inspiring and a little scary. And, well, Estela was wonderful...

"Squire Estela, do you swear to defend the will of Elranor with your shield?" asked Benarus. "That you will act with charity and mercy and defend the innocent from the arrows of hell."

"I swear," said Estela, face downturned.

"Do you swear that your sword will be used only against the wicked and the enemies of Harlenor?" asked Benarus. "You will dispense justice with a fair hand and strike only with need."

"I swear," said Estela.

"Do you swear to seek perfection in all things and give up your life in pursuit of His will, should he so command it?" asked Benarus.

"I swear," said Estela.

Benarus drew the sword and tapped it once on each of Estela's shoulders. "Then rise a knight, Lady Estela."

Clapping began in unison as Estela turned to regard the people. Relma was not among the nobility. She had a place on the sidelines with the less important people. Although news of the Heir of Kings had spread far and wide. Public opinion was undecided as to their nature. Later a feast began to celebrate the event. Relma was not one of those attending, at least as a guest. She and the other squires and pages, those that were left, were on serving duty. They were meant to do their job and fade into the background.

Relma preferred this. Ever since eating that meat, she'd felt a bit sick. Well, a bit was an understatement. She'd been throwing up for several days. And even now, she was feeling a bit queasy. Eating this rich food was not something she would have wanted to do.

There were all kinds of foods—some of them from foreign lands. A curry had been brought in from the far east, beyond Calisha, in a place called Dinis. Or, at any rate, that was where the recipe had come from; apparently, alterations had been made. The spices were costly.

Benarus was putting a great deal into this ceremony, wasn't he?

"I wish Ronald were here," she said.

"Why?" asked Ajax's voice behind her. "So, he could set the place on fire?"

Relma looked up to see him in the shadows. Ajax had yet to, technically, be invited. But since he lived at the castle and was the son of a powerful lord, he felt slighted. So Relma didn't blame him for showing up anyway, as long as he didn't make a scene.

Still, his remark was uncalled for. "Ronald only started one forest fire, Ajax. And you were trying to kill us."

"No, I wasn't," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you were trying to capture me and willing to kill the others," said Relma.

"Why aren't you congratulating her, anyway?" asked Ajax.

"I'm a squire. So we're not supposed to get involved in these celebrations," said Relma.

"Why?" asked Ajax. "You're her friend, aren't you?"

"Sure, but all these people are important," said Relma. "Lords, knights, Estela's peers. I'm beneath her station at the moment."

"The brood of Telix decide for ourselves who is and isn't important," said Ajax. "Why are they all showing up here?"

"She is a Princess of Escor," said Relma. "Also, they've been gathering for the tournament for a while anyway. So Benarus killed two birds with one stone. I wish Ronald could be here."

"Where is Ronald anyway?" asked Ajax. "Estela said he would be right behind her."

So Ajax had been eavesdropping. Had he seen Anoa? Best not to ask. "He and Frederick got delayed chasing bandits. Apparently, a lot of criminal organizations have been weakened, and Sir Frederick wants to take advantage.

"There is a lot of chaos in the north, over the Black Mountain.

"He sent a hawk on ahead with the news. I hope he gets back soon. We'll need Frederick at the Tournament of Kings." She paused. Ajax had tensed and narrowed his eyes as if ready for spring.

"What is it?"

"I know that girl," said Ajax, pointing.

Relma followed his gesture to a noblewoman. Well, actually, she was about Relma's age. She had a bowl cut of silver hair. She was clad in a red and silver dress. It showed a lot of skin on her thighs and her torso. She was very beautiful, actually.

"Who is she?" asked Relma.

"Fayn Lancel," said Ajax. "The niece of Steward Benarus. She often tried hunting in Father's domain."

Relma had heard the name before. They were rivals. Fayn was in line to inherit Benarus' position as Steward. That was if other arrangements weren't made. Where were her parents? No one else resembled her except Benarus though the resemblance was less than uncanny. Both had thin features, but very little else was in common.

Relma listened in on the conversation as Fayn spoke to Benarus. "I'm told that you've created something of a menagerie in Gel Carn, Uncle," said Fayn. Her voice was the sort of thing that brought to mind ballgowns and petticoats, but harsh and aristocratic.

"Mengerie?" asked Benarus.

"Well, what with that werewolf hanging about the palace. It seems dangerous," said Fayn, though she was smirking as she said it. Her eye glanced over to where Ajax was. She knew they were here.

"He is a political hostage, of sorts," said Benarus. "So long as he remains here, it keeps Telix from launching any more ill-fated assaults. I thought it better to keep him out of our company."

"Ah, yes. I understand the lady of the hour can be thanked for all that," said Fayn. Her gaze shifted to Estela, who seemed pleased.

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"I was part of the group that found Lightning Trail, yes," said Estela.

"Well, you must recount the tale," said Fayn. "We've heard much of your exploits in Khasmir. But the retrieving of so powerful a weapon bears a retelling."

Estela did say it. She explained the whole story from the point where she entered it to the raid in the forest. Relma had lived through parts of it before. Everyone listened to it with interest, though. Fayn seemed to be looking for another reason, though.

"Well, that is quite a story," said Fayn. "Yet, you seem to have downplayed your own role in things."

"Not really. I was only one part of a great coordinated effort," said Estela, voice guarded. "If anyone had failed, the situation would have been a disaster.

"In any case, I'm not sure the finding of Lightning Trail is my story."

"Yes, I suppose credit ought to be awarded to others," said Fayn. "So, where is your comrade Relma? Given her illustrious heritage, I should have thought she would be present for this. "The identity of the Heir of Kings was not well known among the common people. But evidently, Fayn knew it well.

"Fayn, she is a squire," said Benarus, eyes narrowed. "I didn't think it appropriate for her to be at the table."

"Nonsense, is she not the Heir of Kings?" asked Fayn, leaning back. "Surely, her very presence would enlighten us. Let her come forward."

There were murmurs of agreement. Fayn was undercutting what was meant to be Estela's moment and putting the focus on Relma. And Fayn probably thought that Relma would embarrass herself.

This was a ploy to drive a wedge between Relma and Estela. And to make Relma look like a fool. So Relma stayed right where she was in the background until Benarus yielded. "...Very well then, Relma, come forward."

Relma paused a moment. Then she walked forward slowly, doing her best to look humble and submissive. "I wouldn't presume to interrupt-"

"Come forward," said Benarus, voice hard. He obviously didn't like this any more than Estela.

Relma approached, and Fayn looked her up and down with a slight smile. "So, do tell us, why was it that Elranor chose you of all those who've tried their hand at drawing Lightning Trail?"

Relma said nothing. She looked at Estela. One of the new knight's hands was clenched.

"Speak up?" said Fayn, putting a hand on Relma's cheek. "I'm sure we're all dying to know."

Relma considered her answer. She would look arrogant if she said it was because she was more worthy. If she said that she wasn't worthy, she would discredit herself. If she said she didn't know, she would look dense. "I expect it because it fits into his designs."

"And what designs are those?" asked Fayn.

If she made a prediction of any kind, she looked arrogant. Even if it was proven right, and if it were proven wrong, she would be discredited. "I would not presume to ask Elranor to tell me more than he deems I need to know."

"Hmm, so you follow instructions without question," said Fayn. She drew back her hand. "No doubt it endears you to Gail Arengeth?" Chuckles from the others at the table.

Relma narrowed her eyes. This was too much. "Gail Arengeth wants people to think for themselves."

Fayn took it in stride, looking predatory. "Well then, let me ask you this; Is the duty of a King to serve the nation? Or the gods?"

Relma had no answer. And then she did. As if some part of her that had been sleeping now awakened. "A King must render service to both in their own ways."

"And what ways are those?" asked Fayn.

Relma remained silent and just looked at Fayn. Fayn looked back. There they stood in silent challenge. This was ridiculous. Fayn would just keep asking these questions until she had no choice but to make a mistake. If Relma said the nation, she was disrespectful of the gods. If she said the gods, she was an out-of-touch fanatic.

"Well?" asked Fayn, smile widening.

"...Why are you trying to trap me?" asked Relma, deciding to dispense with the pretenses.

Fayn stiffened. "You forget your place, squire."

"My apologies, milady," said Relma with a curtsy of her robes. "But I had thought my place was with the other squires, watching in silent obedience. Was I wrong?"

Fayn sat back. "You weren't."

"Then, with your permission, I will return to my vigil," said Relma before looking to Benarus.

"Do so at once," said Benarus.

Relma walked back. Estela looked pleased with the result. Benarus coughed and looked ready to change the subject.

"At any rate, Estela, I am told that the demon Melchious manifested during the war for Khasmir," said Benarus. "Can you lend any credence to this?"

"I can confirm that Melchious made an appearance," said Estela. "I saw him from far away, observing the conflict. Unfortunately, there wasn't much time to see much of anything else. I nearly lost my head to a raishan while I was looking.

"If it hadn't been for well...

"Tanith Telus has her uses on the battlefield. She happened to kill the creature that would have killed me." Saying anything good about Tanith would not be acceptable. If Tanith had saved her, Estela had to downplay it. She probably shouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

"I remember how they swarmed up the battlements of Kynn like locusts. It was hard fighting, and a lot of good men died. I heard later that he tasted defeat by the sorceress Rusara. Though something else happened as well, I'll wager."

"What makes you say that?" asked Fayn.

"Well, Duke Vanion's son William disappeared during the campaign," said Estela. "Some of us figured he was dead. But after he disappeared, the commanders started predicting the enemy's movements with precision.

"Then William showed up again out of the blue after the battle and started healing people."

"What did Melchious look like?" asked Fayn.

"He was tall, with long blonde hair and very fair features," said Estela. "Though he had a scar over this eye. Right here." She raised a hand and traced it over one eye. "He had the wings of an eagle and held a blood-red axe that pulsed with unholy energy.

"A few of the other men spoke of a strange black demoness. She was seen flying out of Kynn toward the end of the battle."

"What do you make of it all?" asked Benarus.

"I can't say anything for certain without more information," said Estela. "But I think that Duke Vanion has made contacts among the denizens of hell. And I think that William Gabriel is the one who made them."

"That's a grave allegation," noted Benarus.

"I read his book," admitted Estela. "But the truth is that none of us know what happened in Baltoth's Retribution. The only witnesses were a demon, William Gabriel, and an elven goddess.

"They had some kind of alliance against Melchious. Demons often scheme against each other. And it wouldn't be the first time a Gabriel has made a pact with a demon."

"If this is so, then we have cause to be uneasy," noted Benarus.

"Come now." scoffed Fayn. "Vanion is a barbarian lord of Haldren. What concern is it of ours? Sooner or later, he'll be devoured by the demon, and we'll have nothing to worry about."

"Men said the same about his pact with Melchious," noted Benarus. "But by all appearances, he has proved the stronger there."

"I don't think you should underestimate Vanion," said Estela. "I spoke with him when I arrived in Artarq. He was courteous and charming and had me believing every word he said. When you talk to him, the gods stop being holy. Demons cease to be wicked. Spirits cease to have any sanctity.

"He thinks of the gods as powerful kings. And he thinks of demons as lords who can be manipulated like anyone else."

"What do you think his next move will be?" asked Benarus.

"I can't say," admitted Estela. "But I think I know one thing he'll try for. Vanion prefers to gain power through deals rather than open battle. So I think he'll try to marry his family into King Andoa's bloodline."

"Do you think King Andoa would accept such a deal?" scoffed Fayn.

"I don't know. I haven't met him," said Estela. "But it would be a smart political move. Vanion has holdings in Haldren as well as Antion. So a marriage between House Gabriel and the Royalty of Antion would benefit both.

"And it would also restore the credibility of the royal family."

"Restore the credibility?" asked Benarus. "Isn't that a little presumptuous?"

"Forgive me, Steward Benarus," said Estela. "I only mean to say that King Andoa is getting old. His son isn't anywhere near as accomplished. Meanwhile, House Gabriel's star is in the ascension. Vanion could be an invaluable support to them. And a dangerous enemy."

"All this is very nice to talk about. But what has it to do with Gel Carn?" asked Fayn.

Estela gave her a look that said she ought to know this much, and Fayn glared back with daggers. Evidently, she did. "If Duke Vanion sets his family up as royalty, he'll have a good chance of creating Harlenor Reunited. No doubt in his image. Gel Carn is sworn to submit only to the Heir of Kings when right.

"We are a natural enemy of his. If I were him, I'd want Gel Carn removed as an independent force."

"What does it matter how Harlenor Reunited is formed?" asked Fayn. "Whether done by Vanion or some king out of legend, the job will be done either way. So what say you, uncle?"

Benarus looked to Fayn, then Estela. "...In the end, we must all do Elranor's will."

That was a profound non-answer Relma could appreciate.