"Since last we spoke, have the trials of the vintage continued to go well?"

"Yes, of course! Better than well. See here, the reports-" He fumbled with his papers, rising to bring them to her.

"Just tell me this," Corinn said. She signaled with disdainful fingers that he should stay seated. "It works as efficiently as you thought before? It lifts their spirits, gives them a feeling of bliss, and yet does not dull minds?"

"Quite so. One might almost say it sharpens-"

"And once they taste it, they will forever crave it?" The man nodded vigorously. "What happens if they are deprived of it?"

"There's no reason that they should be deprived of it. We have vast stockpiles of the raw ingredients. We have enough to last us until we win or lose the coming struggle."

"That's good. But, again, what happens when they are deprived of it? You said before that they will do anything to get it-but if they cannot get it, what happens to them? How long until they recover?"

The nodding stopped. Paddel's mouth puckered, a stupid expression that Corinn wanted to slap away. "I don't know. We didn't deprive any indefinitely. They were so"-he grinned and lifted his shoulders, a gesture meant to indicate that surely she understood this point-"insistent and so pleased when they had access to it again. Why deprive them?"

The scowl on Corinn's face stayed constant. That annoys me, Paddel, she said to herself. You should have researched this area instead of taking so much personal pleasure from it. It was too late now to conduct more tests. She had waited too long already. Let it be done.

"Send word to your people," she said. "Release the vintage."

"Yes?" he asked, excited, his mouth now like that of a dog panting in expectation. "Do you mean it?"

"I just said it, so obviously I mean it. How quickly can you distribute it?"

"Oh, quickly indeed. The main warehouse is in Prios, of course, but in preparation for your order we've shifted stock to Danos, Alecia, Bocoum. We even had a storage facility in Denben. We can send word by messenger bird and have crates riding south toward interior Talay by tomorrow evening. And across west to Tabith, which will give us the entire Slopes coastline!" The possibilities took his breath away. He stammered on for a time, and then, realizing something, looked at Corinn with new admiration. "You are so wise to have arranged this, Your Majesty."

She showed no pleasure in the compliment. Instead, she flicked her fingers to indicate that he should leave. Before he reached the door, she stopped him. "One final thing. Do conduct the test. When one is addicted and is deprived indefinitely, what happens? Find out."

Later, in her offices with Rhrenna, Corinn closed out the day's business. The Meinish woman read from the meticulous notes she kept, detailing a variety of points achieved and yet to be faced on the morrow. Listening to her voice soothed Corinn. Much of what she said, conversely, did not. "Wren has petitioned for an audience with you. I told her the timing was ill but said I would put the request to you."

"Wren…" Corinn exhaled. Dariel's concubine. Pregnant and growing plumper every day. Though Corinn avoided speaking to her, she caught glimpses of the girl often enough. Her narrow eyes always seemed to be waiting for Corinn, fixed on her before she had realized they were going to make eye contact. She was pretty, indeed. A northern Candovian. One of those slim, athletic women upon whom a baby is but a shapely bump that adds to her attractiveness, a moon to be caressed. "I can't see her now. She'd likely ask me to acknowledge her child as Dariel's."

"It is Dariel's."

"Yes, but I'm not at all sure that I want to declare that right now. Tell her I'm too busy. If she likes, she could retire to Calfa Ven. I'll send physicians. She could have the baby there, in peaceful seclusion."

"I already felt her out about that, Your Majesty. She would rather be here in the palace."

"Fine," Corinn said a little coldly, as she wanted to close the subject, "but she'll have to wait for an audience."

Rhrenna nodded and noted this on her documents. Watching her down-tilted face, Corinn remembered that she once thought Meinish women uniformly bland of appearance. Too pale, thin-skinned, with finely drawn features that had a coldness in keeping with their frigid nation. At the time she had thought it ironic considering that the men of the same race had been striking, especially Hanish… Looking at Rhrenna now, she realized that her feelings about Meinish women had never been accurate. Yes, their features were as described, but they had their own style of beauty. What had kept her from seeing it was jealousy. Fear that Hanish might one day choose one of his own over her.

Forgetting the annoyance of a moment before, Corinn acknowledged a very different emotion instead. "Rhrenna, I'm sorry."

The secretary looked up and studied her. "For what?"

Was this folly? To admit a crime and wish it otherwise? No, she did not think so. "For what I did to your people."

"Oh." Rhrenna cleared her throat, looked back at the documents. "We weren't innocents."

"I know. You knew all the time, didn't you? All the time that we rode together and I showed you the ways of court and we were young together-all through that time you knew that Hanish might one day sacrifice me to the Tunishnevre."

Rhrenna drew in on herself. She pulled her gaze in, head down as she stared at the papers on her lap. Her blond hair fell around her. "I never wanted that to happen."

"But you knew it might. I'm not chastising you. You are closer to me now than my sister is. Perhaps I love the blood you share with Hanish. Maybe that's why I feel so close to you. For some reason, I know that the fact that you would have betrayed me then means that you won't now. Or ever again. Am I right?"

The young woman's head bobbed. "You are right."

"I know it," Corinn said. She folded her hands in her lap and inhaled a long breath. Something about doing so made her feel she had sucked in Rhrenna's promise and owned it. "When this is over and we're at peace again, I will lift the ban on entering Mein Tahalian. There's no reason it shouldn't be opened again, lived in again. There's every reason it should, actually. If I did that, would it please you?"

Rhrenna sat as if she were still studying the pages before her, but her gaze had drifted off slightly, unfocused. "I don't think I could live there again. Maybe if I lived to old age I'd return, but I'm not sure. I think some others would, though. I know some want that very much. It wouldn't be the same, of course. There are too few of us left, but I know some Mein who would take their families back to Tahalian. Even their mixed families. They'd pry off the beams that seal it, open the steam valves, and heat the place. It could never be the same, but it would be good for life to fill the place again. I would like to believe that an entire culture can't just be forgotten."

This time it was Corinn who took a while to respond. Though she had begun the conversation, it surprised Corinn to realize that Rhrenna had truly thought about this before. She had even spoken to other Mein about it. A culture forgotten? What a strange idea. To Corinn it had always been the opposite. She had feared the world would remember the Mein too well, feared that they might yet have some power, some way to shape the world. Hanish so often haunted her thoughts. How could he not when he so clearly lived on in Aaden? The Mein-in her own mind, at least-were far from being forgotten. That had seemed a problem before. Now, however, she sometimes wished she had not ordered Hanish killed. Perhaps there could have been some way for them to live together. What a powerful pair they would have been! Rulers for the ages.

Outside, a bone whistle announced the advancing hour. Other flutists and pipers picked up the melody and spread it down from the palace toward the lower town. Corinn listened until the music faded into the distance, reminded by it just how tired she was. "Rhrenna," she said, "I am not going to destroy it all. You believe that, don't you?"