Selida had forgotten how glacial Emmeline's pace had become, her boned kirtle of black wool weighted down by jet-beaded overskirts and floor-length, sable-lined sleeves. Her memory of the Tidelands princess who had once swam her by the hand through the royal kelp grotto trailed them up the coiled staircase like a ghost. The tower felt a hundred stories tall.

"I am sorry I was not in the courtyard to greet you, but from the window I saw Ser Kahldar's face as he left your side." Emmeline squeezed Selida's arm. "Do you plan to continue your pursuit?"

Selida wanted to discuss many things with Emmeline. Ser Kahldar was not among them. She picked a neutral tone. "He might make for a fine splash in the surf, but I judge him far too prejudiced for anything more."

Emmeline continued up the stairs past the family apartments on the second floor. "Ser Kahldar is a better study of Tidelander custom than Ser Aegison. He has only been at Wyvernsvow a handful of years. Perhaps his narrowness will continue to erode with time and exposure."

"Ser Kahldar wants no further intimacies from me."

"Is that why he rebuked our young squires so vigorously?"

"He made his stance perfectly clear at Harvest Shoredance last year. And after the joust during Spring Moonrise. And this afternoon, come to think of it."

"And when has that ever stopped a Cleric of Aluna?" Emmeline patted her arm. "Dawnlanders of his character are not the splashing sort. Their chastity thaws only with marriage." She paused at the third floor landing and tugged Selida into the narrow hallway. Beyond the arrowslit windows, the gray fog deepened into indigo. "You've made your dower contribution to the church several times over, our Grand Cleric writes me. It would ease her heart to know you did not continue to galavant up and down the coast alone."

"I am sure she would not want me to pick a Welded Dawnlander."

"Perhaps not," Emmeline said placidly, "but we must look to the future."

Selida swallowed her first reply. Before she could shape a second, Emmeline stopped outside a small door at the end of the hallway. It was painted blue, and stenciled at heart-level sat the moon and stars of Aluna's faithful.

"Here we are," Emmeline said. "Your surprise." She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a brass key. "Go ahead. Open it."

Selida lips parted, touched in spite of herself. She took the key, opened the door, and huffed a laugh.

"Do you remember it?"

Selida's fingers tightened on the key. "It was a linen closet. The year we all came to Wyvernsvow for the peace treaties, you, Laurence and I would come here to play. Our fathers could not bear the sight of us, after the discussions started to go sour."

"I met Lydris here. He had come to investigate our scuffling. I knew at once that a man who could build this keep would build an equally solid alliance." Emmeline's voice softened further. "I stood on this spot and swore to myself that if our fathers could not find peace through conversation, that I would secure it with a wedding."

When Princess Emmeline Skyfawn had ended the war by marrying Lord Lydris Magnus, many people, including Selida's father, had far cruder words for what had happened.

Selida looked around. The little room housed a dozen chairs, arranged in two half-circles. Facing them stood an altar of wood, chased with mother-of-pearl. Behind the altar, two latticed windows looked out over the inky coastline. On the dark blue painted ceiling, winged and coiled constellations of white and gold circled the full moon. Under her boots, the floor undulated with teal dyes in patterns of snakes, waves, and tides. To her left, a banked fire smoldered in the hearth. To her right, an alcove housed a clean pallet and a beachwood trunk: open, empty, and waiting for her things.

With effort, she banished the fantasy of Kahldar, dark hair tumbled across that clean bedding, from her mind. "It reminds me of your mother's chapel, in the old capitol," Selida said instead. "And I am grateful for any private space, given your many guests." She considered her next words. "Did you fix upon it before or after the Dominion offered to send you a pair of Welder Clerics this winter?"

"Ah, you heard." Emmeline waved her hand in languid dismissal. "I've been mulling over this project for years. Lydris and I worked on it all summer. Of course, it is nothing like the temple that used to stand on this promontory, but this is not the year to build a new church, no matter what the Grand Cleric writes me."

Selida bit her lip. "The Grand Cleric is merely concerned."

Emmeline tilted her head. "What, that the Welded will consume every religion in the Dominion?"

"That King Harald, upon his deathbed, will demand every Dominion state adopt the Church of the Heavens."

Emmeline lowered herself onto one of the chairs, like a great bird folding in its wings for sleep. "Our treaty would surely trump such a mandate. That said, I confess that my heart has softened towards their scripture."

Selida unclenched her hands. "You cannot mean to see some Dawnlands sun god raised up as Aluna's equal, or see Her reduced to some minor aspect of their myopic duology."

"I know. But surely you see that the Tidelands would be stronger standing together with the Dawnlands than apart."

"I would not see the Tidelands shackled to that church any more than I believe a cleric of Era must wed a cleric of Exos to perform holy functions."

"And you are in no hurry to pursue holy marriage and all it entails?" Emmeline smiled and closed her eyes. "Worry not. King Harald is decades yet from his grave. Aluna's dominion over Her shores is as absolute as any mortal could desire."

Selida wanted to throw one of the wooden chairs out a latticed window. Instead, she crossed to the altar and began to set out candles and incense. "Luckily, no sane person would ever think I would make a suitable Welded wife."

Emmeline shrugged. "At dinner we will tell your petitioners where they can find you. Now, if you would light the votives, I will offer Aluna my evening prayers."