"That's one thing we don't have to worry about," Miranda mused. "What do you want to wear to court?"

"This," she said, pointing at the rather plain gray dress she was wearing.

Kalina frowned slightly. "Why wear that when you can wear something pretty?"

"Because father took it all, remember?" she said pointedly.

"Oh. I'm still not used to that."

"Keep your mind on what we're doing, Kalina," Keritanima grinned.

There was little fanfare regarding her return to court. She simply walked in as the courtiers stood in pockets and chatted idly. She was a bit late, but they hadn't told her to attend at any specific time, so her being late was of no consequence. Her father sat on his throne, speaking with some of his advisors, obviously not holding a formal audience at the moment. He looked right at her when she entered the Hall, but she didn't deign to meet that gaze. She simply melted from his sight and joined the first pocket of gossiping nobles she could.

The first day back in court was like a slap in her face. It was the same as she remembered, full of insincere simpering little sneaks out to better themselves at everyone else's expense. Damon Eram's court was a viper pit of rumors, insults, accusations, and alliances forged and broken in the same day. To a man or woman, they all congratulated her on her speedy recovery and wished her the best through bright smiles, but their scents told her that they'd wished she'd dropped dead on the Block. She found their insults tiresome and irritating, and when she would before resort to the Brat's vapidness to deflect such inane banter, all she could do now was stare at someone saying something she didn't like until he or she got uncomfortable enough to stop. Keritanima moved from group to group, listening to the current rumors and gossip, and aware that her father almost always kept his eyes on her. She didn't glance at him, didn't stare, barely acknowledged his presence. She wasn't the only Eram on the floor, either. Both Jenawalani and Veranika were attending court, wearing their expensive gowns and their ridiculously large jewels. Jenawalani glared at Keritanima every time their eyes met, but Veranika, Keritanima's youngest raccoon Wikuni sister, shied away from making eye contact with her, and tried to stay as far from the Crown Princess as she could. That was heartening. Veranika was a schemer, but she was much more timid than Jenawalani. Her schemes were more aligned with how well she could pad her future, for she felt that her chances to take the throne were slim. Veranika wouldn't engage in murder unless she was absolutely convinced she could get away with it. She wouldn't take chances, and in the dangerous world of intrigue, that meant that she rarely engaged in serious plots.

The Chamberlain rapped his staff of office on the floor smartly, causing all chatter to ebb off. "His Majesty, King Damon Eram, commands court to fall silent so formal audience can be conducted," he announced in a loud, calm voice.

They all fell silent and joined into groups on either side of the central aisle.

Damon Eram stood and adjusted his Royal robe a bit. "The crown has received word that Baron Elkess of Thistlethorn has passed away. He had no heir, so We hereby decree that his title, lands, and material worth be absorbed by the Crown."

That caused a bit of whispering. Elkess was a recluse, who rarely left his desmense. He also was one of the Houseless, a noble that belonged to no noble house. But he was rumored to be very, very rich, because he was an exceptionally gifted organizer and businessman. He had been old, a widower whose son and daughter had both died in a shipwreck some fifteen years past. Keritanima was quick enough to understand that Damon Eram had probably had Elkess prematurely sent on so that he could exercise his Royal privilege to reclaim the Baron's lands. And since he had no heir, his money and possessions also became property of the Crown.

Keritanima was mildly impressed. To pad his own pockets to fund his intrigue, Damon Eram was killing off his heirless nobles to annex their property. That was a rather clever way to work up some quick funding. And of course, nobody would be able to track it back to him. He was much too good for that.

She pondered that development as the King received some diplomat from the East, tuning out the flowery exchanges as she considered what changes she may need to make to her own plans to take into account the extra resources her father would have available.

"I'm sure that the Crown Princess has so much more worthwhile things to do than acknowledge the greeting of Ambassador Yorin of Tor," Damon Eram called loudly in a waspish voice.

Keritanima looked up and found herself looking at a young human with dark hair, an oily expression, and a very snappy gray waistcoat in the Wikuni style. "Actually I do, but this is where I guess I should be remarking that my world has become brighter for meeting you," she told the human with a whimsical, toothy grin, offering her hand for him to kiss.

"You will afford his Excellency proper respect!" Damon Eram boomed at her.

"I don't know… are you worth respecting, your Excellency?"

Yorin gaped at her a second, then he broke out into delighted laughter. "My mother would disagree with me, but I would have to say I am," he returned.

"I think I'll side with your mother. She's probably a better judge of character," Keritanima winked.

"Cease this insolence, daughter!" Damon Eram said in a strangled tone.

"Posh," Keritanima sniffed. "If you want to see insolence, father, I can certainly oblige you. Now go back to your toys and let me continue my discussion with His Excellency here."

The fur on Damon Eram's face instantly ruffled up, and he gripped his scepter like a mace for a moment. "Perhaps her Highness would like another lesson in manners," Damon Eram warned ominously.

"Perhaps his Majesty has the steel rod stuck too far up his-"

"Keritanima!" Damon Eram blasted, jumping to his feet.

Keritanima crossed her arms under her breasts, assumed an impatient pose, and stared at her father.

"I think you forget that nothing stops me from handling you in any way I please," he warned.

"I think you should get off of yourself and lighten up," she snorted. "I'm sure his Excellency realized I was making light."

"You will conduct yourself as a Crown Princess!" he shouted.

"I am," she said with a mild grin. "As the heir to the throne, it's expected for me to sometimes act outside of the shadow of the king. My style of governing will be different from yours. I'm merely displaying my individuality. It's called preparing for the mantle of leadership."

He gave her a strange look, then sat back down. Her indirect mention of taking his throne had had its intended effect. "I'll forgive your impertinence this time, but watch your mouth, daughter."

"Whatever," she returned, turning her back to him and returning to the crowd of court.

That exchange caused her to become something of a pariah among the other courtiers. Fearing her father's wrath, nobody wanted to talk to her for the rest of the day, so she simply stood by herself and used Sorcery to eavesdrop on the private conversations of others. It was a much more profitable enterprise after she began using Sorcery to listen to everyone else. She became privy to any number of dirty secrets, plots, schemes, dalliances, and juicy tidbits. So many that she had to stop and think about things for nearly an hour, sitting on a chair far to one side, pondering the significance of many of the things she heard.

And in that pondering, a plan began to form. It was a simple plan, but it would give her father something to chase. He knew she was up to something. It would behoove her to let him think he knew what it was.

Something that would make him drop everything.