she may be, but never your wife, never a princess of Ranke.”
Kadakithis bristled. “And how would you stop it, Cousin. // we had even talked
marriage, how would you stop it?”
Anger made him a stranger to her. He pushed her hands away, and that hurt more
than she could say. They had been playmates and friends, confidantes. Now she
had driven in a wedge that might never be removed.
Still, it was for Ranke. Shupansea was an invader as evil as any of the forces
seeking to fragment the Empire. The fish-faced temptress was more subtle, more
patient, but it was still Rankan land she desired, even if it was only the
slimepit called Sanctuary.
Chenaya drew a deep breath and ignored the stinging in her eyes. “I have stopped
it, my Little Prince. I have stopped it.”
Kadakithis backed a step. His gaze bored into her with a menace she had never
seen in him. As if on cue, Lu-Broca’s voice filled the Grand Hall announcing the
newest arrivals. Chenaya spun around. The major-domo was pale, a frightened
expression on his face. She located Shupansea and Molin Torchholder. She had
wanted to be close, wanted to see their faces. Now it didn’t seem so important.
“Her Royal Highness, Daphne, Princess of Ranke, wife to Kadakithis.” Lu-Broca
swallowed. “And escort.”
All color fled from Kadakithis’s face as he pushed through the suddenly silent
throng. Chenaya followed him to the foot of the stair. The Beysa and Molin were
quickly with them. The Beysib met her with a look of purest hatred. Chenaya had
thought about how she would respond: smile, stick out her tongue, bat her