Myri was surprised by how quickly the court settled down about the babies, or at least appeared to. Once the formal announcement was sent out across the country by herald, the court seemed to realize that nothing would change Wildas's mind about the value of Coulta's magic. The new royal children were showered with gifts and visited by family members and other nobles.

Though Myri was spending much of her time with Anil and the twins, she still made regular visits to the castle healers to get herbs for Anil and to help out when needed. And, of course, to keep the healer in charge updated.

"Is she finally letting the nurses help with the care?" Sara asked one day.

Myri nodded. "She lets the babies go to the nursery at night. During the day she has them brought back to her room, but she lets the nurses stay if they don't want time to rest themselves. As soon as she's feeling well enough, she'll be able to visit the nursery herself."

"It's good that you're being cautious with her," Sara commented. "Having twins the first time surely would be exhausting."

"I don't want her having complications or getting ill when she's tired and seeing the babies," Myri agreed as she finished gathering the herbs she needed. "Especially if I'm never able to help bear children with her."

Sara gripped her arm firmly. "Try now."

Myri nodded, recalling her mother's words. "I'm simply not hoping for much."

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Nine days after the birth of the twins, Anil was deemed recovered enough to attend most of the Durasyan Day celebrations. She was nervous about leaving the babies all afternoon with the nurses, but she was glad to be able to be a part of castle life again.

The only part of the day she didn't participate in was the parade through the city. Myri had decided it would be too cold for her, despite the fact that it was growing warmer by the day, and Anil had agreed. She'd spent the morning with the twins in the nursery instead, and tried not to worry about anything happening to the rest of her family.

But everything went smoothly and her spouses returned to prepare for the afternoon feast. Coulta came to the nursery to retrieve her when they returned, and she reluctantly rose from her seat to place Kylar back in his cradle. When she saw Coulta watching her, she paused and brought the prince over to him.

"Do you want to hold him for a moment?" she asked.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Could I?"

She smiled and carefully handed Kylar over to him, making certain Coulta was holding him properly. Kylar squirmed and whimpered, then smiled and continued to sleep. Anil looked up at Coulta's face with a smile, and saw that he was gazing down at Kylar with a thoughtful expression. She knew he was having a difficult time accepting that he had played a part in the creation of the twins, so she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you are their father too," she told him quietly.

Coulta nodded. "I hope all the children have this magic."

"That would probably be ideal," she agreed.

After a moment he carefully handed Kylar back to her. "We should go prepare for the feast."

The feast wasn't quite as large as the one for the new year celebration only the month before, and Anil wondered if it meant that the winter stores were being rationed. When she asked Wildas, he assured her that all was well.

"We still have plenty," he explained, "but the tradition is to feast more sparingly on Durasyan's Day because it is so late in the winter. After the feast, when there is dancing and games, there are many sweets instead. Most are types of dried fruits, but some are small cakes and other treats. The sweets are said to make people happier and more loving."

"I'm not so certain about making people more loving," Myri commented. "Happier, however, I generally agree with."

As they ate, they watched several performances conducted by groups of dancers, tumblers, and acrobats. Anil was amazed by the diversity among the performances. They seemed to be of various ages and to have various talents, but all were a great pleasure to watch. They all moved as if they had been born with more grace and elegance than the typical person, not as if they had surely spent every moment of their lives learning to move so beautifully. They moved through the glittering light cast over the Hall by magic, casting shimmering colored reflections on the stone floor and the guests watching in awe.

"Why aren't there this many performers at other celebrations?" she asked Wildas between performances.

"It's the nature of the celebration," he explained quietly. "Durasyan is the god of love, so we celebrate the love we have for everyone in our lives, whatever form that may take. The people who join these groups do it with the hope that it will find them someone to love and be loved by. They may be orphans given up by crowded orphanages in cities, children of poor peasants with little hope for a better future, or just people who feel like their current lives hold no hope for them. They perform here and for other events the group leaders can arrange. Some are looking for spouses, some for adoptive parents, and some for better professions such as the theaters in all major cities. Most will remain in the group until they can no longer perform to the leaders' requirements if they don't find something else."

Anil watched as the next group of performers took their places. This group included one dancer who could be no older than five years. "How many find what they are looking for?"

Wildas shook his head. "I don't know. I like to think most of them do, but I don't know."

The performance was beautiful, a slow, graceful group dance to the music of three minstrels. Anil found herself fighting against tears throughout it. She hoped every member of the group found the love they needed most.

During the next break Coulta was the first to speak. "Why do we celebrate this day?"

Wildas finished his drink and explained, "According to myth, Durasyan is the reason why we as mortals feel love. He saw that the first mortals were mating and living as animals and he wanted something different for us. So he went before his parents, the Great God and Goddess and asked that mortals be able to care about each other. The gods decided to honor his request, but they also created the feeling of hate as a direct balance to love. But we honor Durasyan today for giving us the ability to love, and we celebrate our love for our lovers, spouses, parents, children, and everyone else we care about. It wasn't well celebrated until Caolan chose it as a way to show that his love for all three of his spouses was real and blessed by the gods. We also celebrate it in the winter when most spirits are low to bring more joy into our lives."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The minstrels started playing, but no performers came forward. Wildas smiled and declared, "Now it's time for us to dance."

Anil allowed him to take her hand as they rose and stepped down to the main floor of the Hall, followed by Coulta and Myri.

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Coulta was thankful Wildas had been giving him a few dancing lessons, but he still felt uncomfortable and uncoordinated during the dances he was expected to share with each of his spouses. It was nothing like sparring, as often as Wildas had tried to tell him that, and he felt his poor skills would be yet another reason for the court to dislike him.

Thankfully, however, the dances included members of the court who had been drinking enough wine to make their movements even less graceful than Coulta's. The first dance, for which he was partnered with Myri, was fairly slow and easy to keep up with. The second, which he shared with Anil, was slightly faster. The third was so fast he practically fell into Wildas at the end of it.

Wildas caught him and chuckled. "I'd say you all learned well. Next year you'll be perfect."

"I'm not sure about that," Coulta replied. "We don't join the dances at other celebrations, why this one?"

"It's seen as bad luck for our marriage otherwise," Wildas answered. "We don't want to anger Durasyan. There is no reason why we couldn't do the other dances, but my parents never did and I suppose I chose to follow their example without considering otherwise."

"One a year is perfectly fine with me," Coulta declared. "Though I think Myri and Anil enjoyed it," he added, looking to where both queens were laughing with Fae.

Then his eye was caught by movement along the wall, behind the row of Guardsmen. Rohan emerged from the shadows and went straight to Shelton, who was talking to Yvona at the table spread with candies and desserts.

Wildas noticed Coulta's gaze and turned to look. When he saw his brother he muttered, "What now?"

Rohan looked right at Wildas when he spoke to Shelton, who then handed his pastry to Yvona and followed Rohan back into the shadows along the wall. Yvona shook her head and took a bite of the pastry before she caught sight of them watching her. She shook her head once more and made a waving motion with her hand by her hip.

"I think Rohan said it wasn't anything urgent, likely just that someone with information needed to speak with him," Wildas told Coulta quietly.

"A small lie for your benefit?"

"That's what it feels like. Yvona seems to think we shouldn't worry. How can I not?"

Coulta moved to the next table, the one arranged with goblets of spiked wine. He picked up one and brought it back to Wildas. "This might help."

That made Wildas smile and he took the drink. "Thank you."

Despite the drinks, Wildas was still clearly distracted as the night went on and Shelton didn't return. They didn't leave the Hall until after half the guests had left, most in pairs or groups, and there had still been no sign of Shelton or Rohan. Coulta had a feeling much more distraction was going to be needed.

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"What happened?" Shelton demanded as he followed Rohan to the stables. It was snowing, but he barely noticed the cold.

"Someone tried to set the storehouses on fire," Rohan answered. "The spells on the buildings prevented them from catching, but we're afraid the spells might need boosting now, and we need to find whoever tried something like this."

Their horses were ready for them when they entered the stable, as were two other Guardsmen. Someone handed Shelton a cloak and he took it with a word of thanks. As much as he preferred to ride in breeches and not his robe – especially his ceremonial one – he swung into the saddle with only minor difficulty and pulled the cloak on. They trotted along the packed snow of the roads until they reached the storehouses where the city's supply of food was kept for the winter. Several more members of the Royal Guard were there.

The buildings were intact, but char marks in several spots along the walls and in front of the doors, as well as the melted snow in those places, suggested that someone truly had intended to burn the place down. Shelton made a thorough search of the perimeter but could find no traces of magic other than what was left of the spell against fire. He strengthened that, but was surprised that the fire hadn't been necromancy. Such an act seemed fitting only for someone working for Dyrai.

"Who noticed this?" he asked Rohan.

"One of the Guard. She saw the final flames going out and reported it immediately to the watch captain, who thought it best to alert you and myself."

Shelton nodded. "No one saw a person here?"

Rohan shook his head. "My men report finding no witnesses."

"I wonder where they'll go now that they failed here," Shelton muttered. "They'll have to try something else."

Just as he finished speaking, a large owl swooped down nearby and transformed into a young woman in a brown dress which almost seem to ripple like feathers. Several of the guards startled backwards while others grabbed their swords. Rohan lifted a hand to halt them.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," the Shifter woman said with a slight bow. "I stopped when I saw how many warriors were in your group. I need to tell you what I saw."

Shelton stepped forward. "What did you see?"

"I was only out flying. I like flying at night, because of the owl form. I saw a fire a short way up the river. A big fire."

"The mills," Shelton breathed.

He wasn't sure how he got on his horse, but he was aware of Rohan riding after him, yelling, "It will be midnight by the time we get there! We won't be able to save them!"

He knew Rohan was right, but he kept riding anyway.

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"If you're going to toss yourself around like a dying fish all night get out of bed."

Wildas stared at Myri for a moment before finding any words. "You can't make me leave my own bed. Go to your own if you're not comfortable."

The next thing he knew, Coulta was forcefully pulling him from the bed. "Get dressed and we'll go wait for Shelton," he said as he went for his own clothes.

"How do you know he's not here yet?" Wildas asked.

"I don't." He started to reach for his sword belt, hesitated, then left it where it lay on one of the chairs.

Wildas dressed quickly and followed Coulta to the door. He distinctly heard Anil grumble, "Thank the gods" as they left.

Shelton's office door across the hall wasn't fully closed, so Wildas peaked inside and saw Yvona sitting at the fire with a book. He slipped quickly inside and waited for Coulta to follow.

"I wondered if you'd join me," Yvona commented. She tapped the arm of the chair beside hers with a thin smile. "Glad you spent some time in bed first."

Wildas chose to ignore the comment by taking a seat in the suggested chair, Coulta in the one on its other side.

"Do you know anything?" Wildas asked.

Yvona shook her head. "I wish I did."

Wildas sighed and leaned back in his chair, resting one foot on the low table in front of the fire. Yvona barely looked from her book when she smacked him in the knee.

"What –"

"You might be a king but I'm still your mother. I don't care what you do in your own rooms but respect others' furniture. Do you know how rare that wood is?"

"Now I do," he replied, removing his foot from the table with a sigh.

She glanced at Coulta and smiled. "At least your husband had the decency not to bring his weapons. Thank you."

Coulta nodded. "Of course."

"He has a dagger in each of his boots," Wildas told her.

Yvona frowned. Coulta kicked Wildas's foot. Wildas ignored it.

"How's Anil?" Yvona finally asked with a sigh. "The babies?"

They passed the next few hours in idle conversation. It wasn't until nearly dawn when Shelton entered the room, bringing with him the heavy stench of burnt wood. He stopped when he saw Wildas and Coulta.

"You should be in bed," he stated.

"So should you," Wildas replied. "What happened?"

Shelton sighed as he pulled off the brown cloak that looked so odd on him. "Someone tried to burn the storehouses. When they didn't catch because of the spells on them, someone rode out to the mills and set them on fire. They're gone. Even the millers' houses were burned with the families trapped inside. We have some flour and plenty of grain, but no way to make more flour from the grain, not on a large scale to feed the entire city."

"We'll find a way," Yvona assured him. "Did you find who did this?"

He shook his head and sat down heavily in the remaining chair by the hearth. "No, and there was no evidence of any necromancy being involved. I have no doubt the suggestion to do it came from Dyrai, though. Once the mills are rebuilt, if we can even find more people to run them, I'll be making certain they are spelled against fire as well."

"What will anyone do without bread?" Wildas questioned.

"It's our duty to feed the people," Yvona replied. "We'll find a way."

But, in the end, they didn't have long to worry about it.