Sterren glanced helplessly around at the room. He had no idea what his position was relative to this little terror of a princess; certainly, she must outrank him, but would her youth affect her authority to order him about?
He couldn’t be sure of that. Reluctantly, he followed her as she marched out of the room.
Once in the hallway. Alder and Dogal fell in step behind him, and together the four of them tramped down the six nights of stairs to the door of the throne room. He stopped there to catch his breath while Lura waited impatiently.
They did not enter the throne room, but turned aside at the last moment and headed down a short corridor and through an unmarked door of age-darkened oak. Beyond was an antechamber, paneled in smoke- stained wood and furnished with heavy velvet-upholstered benches; Lura led Sterren directly through this and on through another door.
This gave into a sunny little sitting room, and as Sterren entered, Lura leading him by the hand, he glimpsed the inhabitants leaping to their feet.
He found himself facing two women and a girl a few years younger than himself, all richly dressed, all standing and staring at him.
“Shirrin, look who I found!” Lura announced.
The girl blushed bright red and glanced about as if looking for some way to escape. Seeing none, she stared defiantly back at Sterren, her cheeks crimson.
The older woman looked reprovingly at Sterren’s guide. “Lura,” she said, “watch your manners.”
The younger woman simply stood, silently gazing down her nose at Sterren. It was quite obvious that she had noticed his attire and didn’t think much of it.
Or maybe she didn’t think much of him in any case; Sterren couldn’t be sure. He had the distinct impression, however, that the woman would have sniffed with disdain if sniffing were not perhaps a trifle vulgar. He smiled politely.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Sterren of Ethshar, Sterren Ninth Warlord, they call me.”
“My lord Sterren,” the older woman said, smiling in return, “what a pleasure to meet you! I’m Ashassa, formerly of Thanoria, and these are my daughters, Nissitha,” with a nod toward the younger woman, “and Shirrin,” with a nod toward the blushing girl. “Lura you have already met, I take it.”
“Yes,” Sterren said, “she introduced herself.” He realized, with a twinge of dismay, that he was speaking to the Queen of Semma, and had presumably just come barging into the royal family’s private quarters.
At that thought, he glanced around quickly.
The room was pleasant enough; a floor of square-cut white stone was partly covered by bright-hued carpets, and white-painted paneling covered the walls on three sides. The fourth side was mostly window, the glass panes arranged in ornate floral patterns and the leading picked out with red and white paint. Several couches stood handy, all covered in red velvet, and a few small tables of white marble and black iron were scattered about.
Nothing was extraordinarily luxurious, however. Sterren had seen rooms of similar size and appointments, though never in any style quite like this one, back in Ethshar.
The queen was nodding. “I’m afraid Lura can be somewhat impetuous,” she said. “Of course, we’ve all been looking forward to meeting you, our long-lost cousin.”
“A very distant cousin, of course,” Nissitha interjected, with a meaningful glance at Sterren’s tunic.
“Lura said that you wanted to meet me,” Sterren acknowledged. “She mentioned Shirrin in particular, thought I don’t-”
He was interrupted by a shriek from Princess Shirrin. The red had faded somewhat from her cheeks, but now it flooded back more brightly than ever, and she turned and ran from the room.
Sterren stared after her, astonished.
Lura burst into giggles. Nissitha stared down at her youngest sister in clear disgust. The queen’s expression shifted to polite dismay.
“Did I say something wrong?” Sterren asked, hoping he hadn’t just condemned himself to a dungeon or worse.
“Oh, no,” Queen Ashassa reassured him, “or at least, not really. It’s Lura’s doing. And of course, Shirrin’s being foolish, too. She’s thirteen, you know, a very sensitive age, and Lura’s doing her best to embarrass her. Don’t let it worry you.” She turned to Lura and said sternly, “Lura, you go apologize to your sister!”
Lura’s giggling suddenly stopped. “For what?” she demanded, “I didn’t do anything!”
“Do as I say!” the queen thundered, pointing.
Lura knew better than to argue any further; she marched off after Shirrin.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” the queen said when Lura had closed the door behind her. “Those girls love to tease each other. You see, Shirrin’s all full of romantic stories about Ethshar and warlords and lost heirs ever since our theurgist, Agor, first told us about you, and Lura’s been making fun of her for it.”
“Silly things,” Nissitha remarked. “Getting worked up over nothing!”
Sterren was at a loss for a reply. “Ah,” he said.
“Well, then, my lord,” Queen Ashassa said, “as long as you’re here, Lura was quite right, we’ve all been eager to meet you and talk with you. You must understand, none of us have ever been more than a few leagues from this castle; my ancestral home in Thanoria is only six leagues or so, and that’s the furthest any of us has traveled. Ethshar seems unspeakably exotic. Do sit down and tell us something about it!”
Sterren glanced at his guards, but Dogal and Alder were being steadfastly silent. Seeing no polite way to refuse, he reluctantly and delicately seated himself on one of the velvet couches, while Queen Ashassa and Princess Nissitha settled onto others, and asked, “What can I tell you?”
Princess Nissitha’s expression plainly said that he couldn’t tell her anything at all, but Queen Ashassa asked, her tone sincerely interested, “Is it true the city of Ethshar is so large that you can’t see from one end to the other?”
“Well,” Sterren said, considering the question, “It would depend where you were standing. I suppose from atop the... the lord’s castle you could see the city walls on both sides. But mostly, it’s true.”
The overlord’s palace was not really a castle, but his limited Semman vocabulary did not include a more suitable term.
The queen asked more questions, and Sterren did his best to answer; gradually, as the topics ranged from the city’s size to the recently-begun overlordship of Azrad VII to wizards and other magicians, Sterren found himself relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Queen Ashassa, despite her royal title, was a pleasant enough person.
Princess Nissitha never said a word and eventually rose and glided haughtily away.
After a time, a servant entered quietly and announced that dinner was ready. Queen Ashassa rose, and for a moment Sterren thought she was going to offer her arm, to be escorted in to the meal, as he had seen ladies do in Ethshar.
Either Semman etiquette was different, or the difference in their stations as queen and warlord was too great; Ashassa marched off on her own, leaving Sterren to follow in her wake.
The dining hall, Sterren discovered, was the throne room where the king had first received him. Trestle tables had been set up and covered with white linen, and chairs brought from somewhere to line either side. A smaller table stood upon the dais, crossing the T, with a dozen chairs behind it.
As yet, almost all the chairs were still unoccupied.
Queen Ashassa took a seat at the high-table, near the center; Sterren, recognizing that the high table was a position of special honor, guessed that it was reserved for the royal family and headed for a seat at one of the long tables.
A servant caught his elbow.
“My lord,” the servant whispered, “you sit on the king’s right.” He pointed to the high table, indicating a chair two spaces over from the queen’s.
Sterren froze, suddenly overcome with fright at the idea of sitting up there and eating in full view of dozens, maybe hundreds of people, in his ill-fitting clothes, with his simple Ethsharitic manners that were surely foreign to these barbarians with their noble trappings. The servant pushed gently at his elbow, and, reluctantly, he allowed himself to be prodded forward, up the steps onto the dais.
He seized control of his dignity, once he reached the top step, and marched on to his place unaided.
The princesses, he saw, were taking their seats on the queen’s side of the table, to his left. To his right, a
