"No," she said, unable to prevent a little grin, "but it might still have that effect."

"Might?"

"They'll try to cross the river tomorrow morning," she said.

"You saw that, too?"

She nodded and pushed the bowl toward him. "Try these blackberries. They're very good."

Artwair looked more than anything, puzzled.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"You just seem…Are you really well? You don't seem yourself."

"Why do people keep saying that?" Anne asked. "You really want the old me back, the girl who was too selfish to look past her own nose? I've feared this power of mine for too long, only using it when I absolutely had to, out of fear or anger. But the saints want me to use it. Do you think it's an accident that I didn't have nightmares last night? It's keeping it inside that's made me ill. Now I feel fine. I'm still Anne, Cousin. I haven't been gobbled up from the inside by some booygshin or ghost. I know; I worried about that myself. I even thought I might be a walking dead, like Uncle Robert, until last night. I'm not. I heal fast because the saints will it, but my heart beats and my blood flows. I get hungry and thirsty. I eliminate, sweat, cough. No, all that's happened is that I've learned to accept what I am rather than be afraid of it. And that is good for Crotheny, I promise you."

Artwair took another bite of his bread. "Thank you for your candor, Your Majesty. And now I suppose I had better see to that river crossing."

He lifted himself from the chair, bowed, and left. When he was gone, she signaled for Nerenai and Emily to enter.

"Do either of you think there's something wrong with me?"

Nerenai shook her head. "No. As you said, you're starting to come to terms with your power. You rely less and less upon the arilac, yes?"

"I see less of her," Anne said. "And when I do see her, she seems…faded."

"Did you-" Emily began, but then stopped and put her hands in her lap. "What, Emily?"

The girl looked back up. "Did you really kill a thousand men?"

Anne nodded. "Does that bother you?"

"Bother me? It's amazing. The saints really have touched you. It's like you're Genya Dare reborn, come to lead her heroes against the Scaosen, to tear the doors off their palaces and grind them into the dust."

"I don't quite have her power," Anne said.

"No, but you will," Nerenai said.

"My uncle Charles is so stupid," Emily said. "He said you were just a silly girl. If he could see-"

"Wait," Anne said. "Your uncle Charles? Do you mean Charles IV?"

Emily's hand flew to her mouth, and she reddened.

"I see," Anne said. "This is what I get for not learning those tedious royal lineages, I suppose."

"I shouldn't have said that," Emily said.

"On the contrary," Anne said, "you should have told me that long ago. And so I think now you should tell me anything else you might have failed to mention, or I might become very, very cross. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Majesty."

Anne stood on the battlements of the south tower again the next morning, clad in a suit of black plate trimmed with gold. She left the helm off so that she could see better.

The view was wonderful. Directly below her was the Yaner Gravigh, the northernmost canal of Newland, hewing from east to west. A wall four kingsyards high stood on the southern birm and went off beyond sight in either direction.

Beyond were the vast downs of Andemuer, gently rolling hills tilled and terraced by a hundred generations of plowmen.

The host of Hansa was a bit of an eyesore, but at the moment, even that was beautiful to her because for almost a league the canal was clogged with their wrecked and burning boats.

They had come before dawn, dragging light watercraft from behind the hills. In a few places they had tried to float bridges, but those had fared no better. Artwair reckoned that more than three thousand Hansans had been slaughtered in the attempt, falling to siege engines and archers massed upon the birm wall.

The cost to Crotheny could be counted on a pair of hands.

"You sent for me, Majesty?"

Anne didn't turn, but she nodded. "Good morning, Cape Chavel."

"A glorious victory," he ventured.

"I'm very pleased," Anne said. "Of course, they'll try again tomorrow, two leagues upstream."

"Why not farther?" he asked. "I understand they need to reduce Poelscild, but why try to cross here, under our engines?"

"More than two leagues upstream the ground around the river gets low and swampy, or so they tell me," Anne replied, "and beyond that they would have the Dew to reckon with. South, we've flooded the poelen nearest the canal, so they would cross it only to find a lake."

"But the force coming on the Warlock-"

"You'll meet them," Anne said. "You, Kenwulf, and Cathond and his light horse. You'll stop them, won't you?"

"Yes, Majesty."

"Cape Chavel?"

"Yes, Majesty?"

"Why didn't you tell me you're third in line for the Virgenyan throne?"

For a moment he just stood stupidly. Then he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Ah," he said. "You've been checking up on me."

"No," Anne replied. "Emily let slip that your uncle is Charles. Once that was out, I made her tell me everything. She mentioned, for instance, that you actually came here to propose marriage."

She leveled her gaze on him.

"Yes," he replied, looking abashed. "Yes, that is the case."

"I don't like being deceived," Anne said. "Explain yourself, please."

The earl tilted his head apologetically. "My uncle sent that insulting delegation as a negotiation," he said. "He reckoned you would be desperate, and his lack of respect would make you more so. My role was to offer a marriage in return for the troops you've requested."

"So you've lied about several things. You didn't come here to fight for me."

"No," he said, "but I decided to the moment you spoke. You were right, and my uncle was wrong. I was too ashamed of my original mission to mention it to you, and the only deception I've engaged in has been to prevent that shame from being exposed. I can't tell you how sorry I am, Your Majesty."

Anne nodded, not quite sure what she should feel.

"If you had made the proposal-and if I had accepted-would your uncle have sent troops?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, to tell you the truth."

"Well, let's find out," Anne said. "Send word that you've made your proposal and I received it favorably. Court me, and I will discover what sort of man your uncle really is."

"You're going to answer one lie with another?" the earl asked.

"It's the same lie," Anne said. "I just want to expose the whole thing. Anyway, would it be so difficult for you to feign interest? I know I'm not the most beautiful of women, but I am the queen."

Cape Chavel's eyebrows went up "I have no need to feign interest, Majesty. I've never met a woman like you, and I'm sure I never will again. And it's only because you are queen that I haven't told you that. I'm dead in love with you, Queen Anne."

As he spoke, an odd warmth suddenly spread down her limbs.

"You needn't overdo it," she said, suddenly not so sure of herself. "No one is listening."

"I'm telling you the truth," he said.

"Be careful, Cape Chavel," Anne said. "I've been badly betrayed by someone who claimed to love me. I found out he was merely using me for political gain. I won't feel like that again, ever. So be honest."

He stepped closer, and suddenly he seemed to enclose her, blotting out everything else around her.

"I am honest," he said. "I refused to court you for political reasons, remember? And I won't pretend to court you now when you so plainly have no interest in me. So let us keep things as they are: You my queen and I one of your knights."

Anne thought she had a reply, but she lost it somehow. She had believed she'd hit on a clever political ploy, but it was suddenly very much out of control. The earl sounded hurt. Was he really serious?