Gabby walked behind him, patting his shoulder as she passed. “What was that about lack of skill?” She came up beside Rudiger. “Your turn.”


    Pastrin and Ned chuckled.


    Rudiger looked at Gabby. “Sorry.”


    Gabby shrugged.


    Gabby grinned across the table at him. “You wish.”


    Gabby held up a finger in his direction. “Don’t even go there, Barnol.”


    “You can either shut the fuck up, or get the fuck out.” Gabby turned her attention back to the table. “Take your shot, Pastrin.”


    Barnol huffed, pulled out a chocolate from the box he had in his lap, and stuffed it in his face.


    “Really, cousin,” Ned said. “Must you be like this every time?”


    Barnol huffed and stood up. “If I’m going to receive this treatment, then I will go. Annai and Tianna’s concert is starting soon anyway. I should get ready.” He tucked his box of chocolates under his arm and stormed over to the door. The servant there opened it for him and closed it behind him.


    The topic of conversation turned away from the funeral after that and back to the gentle competition between Gabby and her brothers. Rudiger was glad for that. He was reasonably certain none of them had noticed he and Zandrue—as well as the priest Quilla had approached—had taken off after that moment, but he didn’t want to risk being questioned too closely.


    Lidda Plavin.


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    Rudiger glanced down at him. “What makes you think I’m nervous?” The two of them were standing in a line of lesser nobles. By the thrones, Princes Malef, Pastrin, and Thilin stood to one side of the King and Queen, with Princesses Gabriella and Annai on the other side.


    The Queen rose from her throne and strode past the princes and princesses to the bottom of the steps in front of the throne. She was no longer in the purple of mourning, but had donned a deep blue and silver gown. On her head, she swore a tall, blue chaperon with a tail that reached almost to the floor. She waited at the base of the steps for the two Plavin women.


    Rudiger took another glance at Zandrue, but her expression hadn’t changed. Her eyes remained locked on Lidda Plavin.


    The Queen sat down. “To be completely honest, my dear, I don’t think he would approve of your Red Knights, but he was always one to leave behind the honoured ways of the past—forward-thinking he would call it. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be proud of you, of course. If you keep Plavin-Tyl prosperous, I’m sure he might overlook whatever methods you might employ.”


    “You are invited as well, of course, Debran,” the Queen added.


    She sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to think what to do. Our enemies seem to have decided it’s time to start walking in the open. First Dyle yesterday. Now Lidda Plavin. On the plus side, I doubt she’ll just try to openly kill us.”


    This time, he just dropped his wine.