Carina kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Go on. Get packed. And make sure you're ready for this evening—I've been past the kitchen and cook's making a dinner that should have the ghosts drooling!"

Haunts began at midnight. Bonfires burned in a long line toward the horizon, commemorating Isencroft's war dead. Inside the palace, the smell of roasting game filled the air. Venison, rabbit, and wild boar would be on the night's menu, along with roasted vegetables, hot wassail, and a stunning variety of cakes and pastries. Isencroft's army, renowned for its ferocity despite its small size, marched in the courtyard to the beat of drummers and the skirl of pipes. Bonfires dotted the hillsides. Every family that had lost someone to battle lit their own fires to invite the souls of the departed closer, or to honor the memory of the dead. In the castle bailey a huge bonfire roared in memory of those lost in battle whose bodies had not returned to Isencroft. People from all parts of the kingdom made the journey to the palace to place a bit of wood or pottery into the fire in memory of a lost loved one, inviting the ghosts to return home and take their rest.

The night began with a display of acrobatics and feats of strength. The highlight of the feast would take place the next afternoon at the royal joust, an event that spanned from noon to supper with matches between the kingdom's best fighters. Now, as Kiara and Donelan sat in the royal carriage amid the procession to the river, Kiara looked out at the blazing bonfires with sadness.

"Your thoughts are elsewhere," Donelan said.

Kiara smiled. "Just wondering when I'll celebrate again in Isencroft."

The carriage jostled over cobblestones, moving slowly as the crowd pressed against it. The streets were filled with revelers, men and women outlandishly costumed in the eight faces of the Lady. Some stumbled drunkenly through the streets, pushing and bumping past the soldiers who escorted the king's carriage in the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd. Cam walked along the right side of the carriage, and another guard kept pace on the left.

Kiara pulled her heavy cloak around her, but she was still cold. She buried her hands in her fur muff and shivered. "How long until we reach the river?"

Donelan glanced out of the window. "I'd tell you if I could see anything but the crowd. Not long."

They could hear the distant sound of the palace bells. Gradually, the road widened as the procession left the city and headed down toward the Koltan River. The Koltan flowed from Isencroft's highlands into the Nu. Legend told that the souls of fallen warriors followed the river into the sea, where Chenne awaited them.

On the banks of the river lay a funeral boat. An effigy lay inside, representing Isencroft's battle fallen. The carriage stopped; Donelan stepped out and turned to give Kiara a hand down. A light snow was falling, and an icy crust on the ground crunched beneath their boots. A military drummer beat a somber rhythm as pipers played. Despite the cold, a huge crowd waited along the river banks. Two soldiers stepped forward, handing lit torches to both Kiara and Donelan. Side by side, they walked toward the effigy in the boat. Not far beyond, the Koltan flowed, dark and swift, toward the sea.

Donelan lifted his torch and turned to face the crowd. "Tonight we honor our fallen. When the raiders came, when the kingdoms invaded, the soldiers of Isencroft never wavered. We remember those who died in battle, and we wish their souls rest in the Lady."

The crowd murmured their assent. Kiara could see how tired her father was. The torchlight did not hide the strain in his face. Isencroft fought back armies twice her size. But even the army can't combat years' of poor harvests. We've been so proud of our independence. I understand why the idea of a joint kingdom isn't well received, but Goddess! The alternative's starvation.

Donelan laid his torch against the effigy. The boat, filled with straw, began to burn. Kiara added her torch to the flames..-

"May the spirits of our fallen remain with us, to watch over the kingdom to which they pledged their lives and honor," Kiara said. Four soldiers used long poles to push the burning boat into the dark waters of the Koltan River.

One of the musicians lifted his voice in a traditional song for the dead. The crowd moved toward the shore to watch as the boat slipped into the darkness. Kiara began the walk back toward the carriage.

"Isencroft independent!" a man's voice shouted. Kiara caught just a glimpse of a figure leaping toward her. Torchlight glinted on a knife blade. Before the guards could react, the man had tackled Kiara, stabbing his blade into her chest.

Kiara kicked hard. The man staggered backward. Cam tackled the assailant, crushing the wiry man to the ground as guards crowded around them. More guards circled Kiara as Donelan ran to her, dropping to his knees beside her.

"Kiara!"

Kiara groaned. "It's all right."

Donelan reached for the tear in her cloak where the knife had penetrated. He looked down at his hands, baffled, when they came away bloodless. "I don't understand—"

Around them, guards shouted for the crowd to disperse; revelers shouted and cried out at the attack. Kiara managed a smile and pulled her cloak open to reveal a leather breastplate over her gown. "It doesn't match the bodice, but I thought it might be wise."

Donelan shook his head. "Have I told you how proud I am of you?" She held out a hand and he helped her up. The knife had made a deep cut into the leather, but had not gone through. Even so, Kiara would be bruised both from the attack and from the fall.

The guards were already wrestling the attacker away. Soldiers herded the crowd back up the hill. Drummers and pipers seemed determined to drown out conversation with their music. "Did you hear what he said? 'Isen-croft independent.'" Kiara shuddered.

"I imagine we'll find that he has ties to the divisionists. The sooner you leave for Mar-golan, the better."

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, save that the royal bodyguard was doubled. Principality arrested us with fewer guards, Kiara thought grimly. It's hard to tell the difference between being protected and being held prisoner.

Donelan and Kiara agreed privately that it would be best, considering the circumstances, for both of them to keep their traditional roles in the feast. Kiara made the requisite toasts and clapped at the entertainers, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The feast ended at dawn; Kiara had never felt so relieved to see the guests depart. Maybe I'll be able to get into the spirit tomorrow for the joust, she thought. Tonight, I want nothing more than a warm brandy and a hot poultice.

Donelan and Tice waited in Kiara's private sitting room while Carina attended to Kiara's injuries. Make bustled about, offering tea or cakes, and finally sitting nervously by the fire.

In the privacy of Kiara's bedroom, Carina helped Kiara out of her gown. Kiara winced as she lifted her arms. "You didn't tell me you were going to wear armor," Carina chided gen-tly.

"You didn't ask. After what happened to Jonmarc at Winterstide, I thought it might be a good idea." She managed a grin. "And it felt good knowing how much I'd vex the dressmaker, covering up his creation with a cuirass!"

Carina turned the cuirass over in her hands. "From the strength of the blow, you'd be dead if you hadn't worn this." She let her hands slip over Kiara's shoulders and chest. "No wonder you're sore. He might not have cut you, but he's broken a rib."

"That explains why it hurts so much to breathe."

Kiara tried not to fidget as Carina worked, knitting the broken bones and healing the deep bruise. Cerise mixed a powder into a hot cup of water and gave it to Kiara. "Here. Drink this. Even with the healing, you'll be sore for a while. The bruise should be gone by the wedding, and the rib should be nearly healed."