She’d invited Oskan to the Yule Feast. Or rather, she’d sent a royal command ordering his presence on the twenty-first day of Icemas.

And where did you spring from, Oskan? I’d already had enough shocks without you leaping out of the shadows like a skinny ghost!

Thirrin pointedly ingnored the long woollen warmers that Oskan had carefully rolled down over the ears of his mule, Jenny. Even the fact that they were bright yellow with red pom-poms on the very tips didn’t drag any sort of comment out of her.

Thirrin and King Grishmak reached the entranceway and swept out of the Blood Place, followed by their escorts and Oskan. The massive double doors slammed shut after them with a deep boom. Oskan woke from his reverie with a shock – the slamming doors had only just missed him. Swinging round furiously he glared at the studded and hinged woodwork with such fierce intensity that suddenly they burst open again, crashing back against the walls inside the palace and splintering deeply.

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to be rude,” he bellowed over the heads of the courtiers cowering just inside the entrance. “Your doors seem to be slammed shut in a draught. I’d get that fixed if I were you.

Thirrin could be charming when she forgot to be a princess. But just recently that happened only rarely, and Totus was beginning to wonder what was on her mind. He thought perhaps he knew, but couldn’t be sure. And how exactly would one ask the heir apparent if she was afraid that she’d have to rule the country before she was ready, and if she was afraid that she’d have to rule the country before she was ready, and if she was frightened that her father would die before she’d had time to experience life properly?

She knew she could kill him in a variety of gory ways in less time than it took him to adjust the strange spectoculums that rested on the very end of his nose, but even this distraction didn’t seem to help!