outfit. “All my tools were lost in Ero.”
“You’ll find more, I’m sure,” said Iya. “You have the gift. You mustn’t ignore it. Now Una, see what you can do with that hair. My horse’s tail looks better.”
Tamír sat fidgeting as Una combed her hair. “Nothing too fancy. I don’t want to be fussing with it all the time like—like some girl!”
Una and Iya both chuckled at that.
“There’s no reason you can’t wear it as you always have,” Una told her, deftly replaiting the warrior braids. “All the women soldiers I know wear their hair loose, or in a long braid in back to keep it out of their faces. Let’s see how that looks.” She plaited Tamír’s hair back into a thick braid, then took a bit of red leather thong from her belt pouch. “See, no ribbons. And I promise not to make a bow, either. There. Have a look.”
Tamír faced the mirror again and was rather surprised at what she saw. “Hand me my sword belt.”
She buckled it on over the girdle, then checked her reflection again. The gown was actually rather flattering, making her look slender rather than skinny and angular. The small side braids and the sword still marked her as a warrior, but she looked less boyish than she had. She made an effort not to scowl. No one would call her a beauty, that was for certain, but her eyes seemed bluer, accented by the gown.
“I’ve been saving something for you. Your father entrusted it to me, years ago.” Iya produced a thin golden circlet from the folds of her robe and presented it to Tamír. It was beautiful, and very simple, just a band of gold engraved with a stylized wave pattern. “That’s Aurënfaie work. It was your mother’s.”
Tamír started to put it on, but Una stopped her. “No, it won’t look right with your hair back. Let me.”
She undid the large braid and combed the hair out with her fingers. Then she lifted the top layer and drew it up through the circlet before settling the ring around Tamír’s brow. She let the hair fall back over it, so that only the section of the band across Tamír’s brow showed. She smoothed the small braids back into place. “There! Now people will know you’re a princess.”
Tamír pulled the gold chain from around her neck and broke it, slipping off the two rings. She placed her father’s heavy black signet on her right forefinger, and the amethyst portrait ring on her left ring finger, where it fit perfectly. When she studied her reflection again, her expression was softer, almost wondering. This time, a girl was looking back at her, even if she did still feel like a boy in a dress.
Iya stood just behind her, one hand covering her mouth and a suspicious brightness in her eyes. “Oh, my dear girl, look at you—the true warrior queen returned at last. Una, call in Ki and Tharin, and Arkoniel, too, if he’s out there.”
Tamír stood nervously by the mirror as the men came in, with Baldus on their heels.
“You look pretty!” the little boy exclaimed.
“Thank you.” Tamír glared at Tharin and Ki, daring them to laugh.
“The lad’s right,” Tharin said, coming to her and turning her this way and that. “By the Flame! What do you say, Ki? Our girl polishes up well, doesn’t she?”
Ki had been staring at her all this time, not saying a word. At last he gave her a doubtful nod. “Better.”
“Better?” Tamír’s heart sank a little and she hated herself for it. Not in a dress for an hour yet and she was already acting like those girls at court!
“No, really,” Ki said quickly. “You’re much prettier with your hair fixed and all. That dress suits you, too. I bet you could fight in it if you had to.”
Tamír drew her sword and made a swift series of thrusts and feints. The skirts swirled around her legs, and she caught the hem with her bootheel once or twice. “It needs to be shorter.”
“You’ll start a new fashion,” Tharin said, grinning.
Una laughed. “Or a scandal!”
“Yes, it might be better if you put on breeches to fight,” mused Iya. “Failing that, though, if you’re caught off guard, try this.” She swept up the right side of her long skirt and tucked the hem into her girdle. “It’s easier to run like this, too.”
Tamír groaned, imagining a life hampered by gowns.
“Come along, Highness. Your court awaits,” Iya told her. “Let them see their queen and spread the word.”
Tamír’s first official audience was held in the villa courtyard. Flanked by her friends and new guard, she entered the winter-brown gardens to find a restless crowd of warriors, wizards, and frightened guild masters awaiting her, anxious for news.
She looked around, searching out familiar faces, and spotted Nikides slumped in an armchair near the fountain, talking with Lynx and Iya.
“I didn’t expect to see you up and around yet,” she exclaimed, oblivious to all the eyes following her as she strode over to give him an awkward hug.
“Healer’s orders,” he rasped. His round, unshaven face was parchment pale, but his eyes were shining with wonder as he stared at her.
She took his hand. “I’m so sorry about your grandfather. We could do with his counsel now.”
He nodded sadly. “He would have served you, and so will I.” He looked more closely at her. “You really are a girl. By the Light, I wanted to believe it, but it didn’t seem possible. I hope you’ll make me your court historian. I believe there are going to be wondrous things to record.”
“The post is yours. But I’m also in need of Companions. I’d like you and Lynx to be the first, along with Ki, of course.”
Nikides laughed. “Are you sure you want me? You already know what a poor swordsman I am.”
“You have other talents.” She turned to Lynx. His dark eyes were still haunted, even when he smiled. “What about you?”
“Be Lord Nikides’ squire, you mean? Lord Tharin did suggest it.”
“No. You’re my friend, and you’ve stood by me. I’m raising you to full Companion. You’ll both have to find squires of your own.”
Lynx blinked at her in surprise. “I’m honored, Highness, and you have my loyalty always! But you do know my father was only a knight? I’m a second son, with no holdings of my own.”
Tamír faced the assembly, hand on her sword hilt. “You all heard that, I suppose? Well, listen well. Loyal men and women who serve me well will be judged on their merits, not by their birth. There’s not a noble in Skala whose ancestors were born with circlets on their heads. If it is Illior’s will that I rule Skala, then I want it known that I look to people’s hearts and acts, not their birth. Nikides, you can record that as one of my first decrees if you like.”
She couldn’t tell if he was coughing or laughing as he bowed to her from his chair. “I shall make a note of it, Highness.”
“Let it be known that anyone I choose to elevate will be accorded as much respect as a noble of six generations. By the same token, I won’t think twice about taking away the title and holdings of those who prove themselves unworthy.”
She caught warning looks from Tharin and Iya, but most of the crowd cheered.
She turned to Una next. “What do you say, Lady Una? Will you join our ranks too?”
Una fell to one knee and offered her sword. “With all my heart, Highness!”
“That’s settled, then.”
Lynx knelt, too, and