The boy twirled away in childish, smiling exasperation. "What happened? I was looking right at it!"

"You found the wrong path, Aaden." She let that sit for a moment, and then added, "You weren't still when you released. Your arm was swaying. Here, let me show you again."

She fell into instruction, happy with the way Aaden listened, the way he tried to understand her notion of paths. He was earnest in this, even though he did not seem particularly talented as an archer. Watching his form and posture, she tried to remember how skilled she had been at his age, but could not. As far as she could recall she had always known how to see the path to her targets. It had always been there, and, as long as she waited until she found it, she did not miss. When she found it and released, she was as sure of her aim as if the arrow were zipping through a pipe suspended in the air. But when had that begun? She had reached for memories from her childhood, but she never really went further back than the afternoon she first shot targets with Hanish Mein at Calfa Ven. She must have learned her skills before that, though. She was a young lady by then, not a child. She already had many pains behind her and-

Aaden interrupted her thoughts. "Next time can Devlyn and others shoot with us?"

"Devlyn?"

"He is a good shot, best in his grouping."

"Devlyn." She had heard the name on Aaden's lips several times now. Devlyn. He was from a new Agnate family, she believed. Mainlanders. She would have to look into his ancestry. He might barely be of the upper class at all, considering how many new links the recorders had found to allow previously common families into the aristocracy. Such was the unfortunate necessity since the two wars and Hanish's purges had all but destroyed the old families. It was not the boy's credentials that interested her, though. Rather, it was the tone of admiration in Aaden's voice whenever he mentioned him. She would need to determine whether or not this was a good thing.

"We could have an archery day with them," he continued, "like a small tourney, but just my friends and me. Somebody else might win, but I don't care. It's just for fun. Can we?"

"We'll see," Corinn said. "You know, Aaden, that you are not the same as your friends. You will one day have this empire to rule."

"I know. That is why I should have friends. Companions! Devlyn could be my chancellor. He already said he would be if I asked him."

As the boy was busy setting another arrow, Corinn let her face betray a moment of displeasure. It was gone before he looked up again. "I'll have to meet this Devlyn. It would be a fine thing for you to have companions, but the truth is that when I'm gone you'll have nobody but yourself to rely on. Nobody else-certainly not Devlyn-will have to carry the burden of rule as you do. Understand that?"

"There's Mena and Dariel," he said, before bending his bow.

"Yes, of course."

But you may not always have them to rely on, she thought. They may fail us. They may oppose us one day. It felt cold to think this, and at first she thought she would say nothing about it. But seeing the concentration wrinkling his brow as he shot, and watching his gray eyes study the results, she felt inclined to push him a little further. His arrow had struck at the edge of the center circle. "That was a fine shot. Let's leave it there for now. Come sit with me."

Aaden reluctantly obliged. The two sat side by side on a stone bench at the edge of the terrace. The balustrade was low, allowing a view out over the sea to the island's west. The nearer waters were dotted with rocky islands that seemed to sink farther and farther as the sea deepened from turquoise to a darker hue. Aaden set his hands in his lap, his knees bouncing with the balls of his feet. He waited, and Corinn, remembering the chattering cacophony that so many children make, was proud again of the son she was raising. A servant brought them two glasses of the berry drink Aaden liked, and then retreated out of earshot.

"I know you are still a boy," Corinn began, "but I have to prepare you for what your future holds. Better you know it now than learn it later. Nobody, not even my siblings, are as important to this nation as you are. You may love them dearly, as do I, but they both have flaws in their characters that you must never let weaken you. Mena is gifted and fierce, but she's afraid of her nature. Her true self is as savage and focused as an eagle. To her enemies she falls like a bolt from the sky, yes? You've heard the tales they tell of her. Her foes can't touch her. She pins them to the ground and rips out their hearts. As she should." She took a sip of the juice. Its tartness puckered her lips. "If that was all there was to Mena's nature, she would be an even better weapon than she already is. She should be all and only an eagle, but there is a dove within her as well. While her beak is carving through her victim's flesh, she starts to cry because of what she's doing. That's a mistake. I would never allow you to be so conflicted. So don't be."

Aaden drew back from his drink and nodded his single, sharp nod. "I understand. Only I don't think I'd like it if Mena was like an eagle. They have cold eyes."

"Better the cold eyes of an eagle than the timid ones of a dove. I've no use for doves." She said this more sharply than she intended. She paused for a moment, wondering why. "As for Dariel… I don't know what's happened to him. He used to be fearless, they say, a raider. I didn't know him then, but it's clear he has a natural gift for leading people. I just wish he would use it more. He has no stomach anymore for the hard things. He still smiles and entertains and knows how to show joy, but he carries a weight around in his center. He seems to feel he must make amends with the world and all the people in it. His building projects… I don't deny they're useful, but he goes about them for mistaken reasons."

"Is that why you sent him away?"

"I didn't 'send him away.' I sent him on a mission. When it's complete, he'll return better for it. You see, Aaden, I am trying to help them both become stronger, stronger in ways that truly matter, in ways that sharpen them, ways that harden them."

Again, she did not like the edge in her voice. She backed away from it, touched Aaden on his still bouncing knees. He was getting restless. She would have to let him go soon, go and be a boy for a while, free of lessons like these. She wished, not for the first time, that she did not have to say such things to him. Let him just be the boy he wants to be. But if she allowed that, she would be committing all the mistakes her father had made. Dariel had been but a little older than Aaden when he was cast out into the world alone, everything taken from him. Such things had happened before. They could happen again. If they did in his life, Aaden would never be able to fault her for not preparing him.

"Aliver was no better," she said. "You should know that from me, because the tales they tell of him make no mention of it. He may have dreamed fine notions, but what are dreams? They're nothing without the backbone to achieve them. Your uncle did wonderful things, of course, but he died with his work unfinished. He would have left the world in chaos had I not been here to set things right. His flaw, Aaden, was that he let emotion drive him. He let notions take the place of deliberate thought. Akarans have done that for too long. Tinhadin killed his older brother to secure his throne, but he killed his youngest out of fear. Even my father only half governed as he should have, choked as he was by an idealism that made him idle. But not any longer. I am not of that mold, nor will you be. I will teach you better than that. So, what I say is this…" She paused until he looked up at her with his full, gray-eyed attention. "Love our family without being weakened by them; honor them as infallible in public while noting their flaws to yourself; demand the most from friends without expecting it; imagine the worst from your enemies so that they cannot surprise you; and rely only on yourself."