Azhar Nurani, Sultan of Namar?n, lounged on the low sofa in his palace in the city of Baradon. Other sofas were scattered around the dining hall, surrounding a short table laden with delicacies. In spite of being open to the city, the hall was in deep shade, protected from the harsh sun by fine linen curtains. The open wall looked down on the city from its third-story vantage point, lifted above the dust and noise of the city below.

  The Sultan straightened as Kadir entered, trailed by Fortney. Kadir's expression was stormy, and Fortney looked downcast.

  "Ah, the bear of Baradon grumbles in, with the fierce cub at his heels," he said. He gestured at the table. "Come, sit, eat."

  Kadir bowed deeply.

  "I have brought Shazedah ," he said shortly, "and now I must go prepare. The princess and I have a long day of corrective training ahead."

  "Very well, Kadir."

  Kadir bowed deeper and left.

  "Come, my daughter. Surely you are not too busy to eat with a lonely old Sultan?"

  Fortney nodded sharply and sat in one of the couches. The table was spread with trays of food: hard-boiled duck eggs, goat cheese, and spiced wine were available, and piles of thinly-sliced, spicy, roasted mutton lay on large circles of flat bread. Fortney began digging in to the food quietly.

  The Sultan cast a worried look at her.

  "Kadir trains you hard," he said.

  Fortney nodded, her eyes focused on the food.

  "Does he push you too hard? Is he too harsh?"

  Her eyes came up, fierce and determined.

  "No, father! My training is important! He is... he is right to push me so."

  The Sultan smiled and watched his daughter eat for a while. He sighed.

  "You are so much like Talira, your mother. You have her determination, her ferocity. I see her fire in you."

  Fortney slowed, bringing her eyes back to her father. His eyes were already distant, lost in the past.

  "She was one of the Yauna, you know. That distant land, the children of another sun. Strong, primitive people, but very clever." He smiled. "They sent gifts, envoys. They wanted a treaty. Your mother was among them, a maid to one of the envoys." He shook his head, his eyes growing distant. "She was fierce. I corrected her handling of the tea during the welcoming dinner and she dressed me down, right there in front of the nobles and everybody." He chortled at the memory. "The envoy was mortified, of course, afraid I'd be offended. But I wasn't. I wasn't." He sighed. "I am sorry, daughter, you don't want to hear these old stories again over your food."

  Fortney shook her head.

  "No, I like hearing about mother," she said. "Please."

  The Sultan smiled.

  "Of all the gifts the Yauna brought to me, Talira was the dearest. The gold, the spices," he shrugged, "they were all well and good. But they also brought me the other half of my heart. I took her as my own maid, then as my bodyguard, then as my Malakeh, my queen." His eyes moistened, staring out over the city. "I have never wanted another."

  He cleared his throat, his voice growing thick.

  "And then, of course, you came. But all her strength and all her will was not enough to bring you forth and save you both. She gave all of herself to bring you to me." Wetness stained his cheeks. "Even a Sultan should not wish for so much, to have the wealth of such a wife and such a daughter all at once. But I am a greedy old man."

  A quiet fell over the table. Fortney stared at the array of food, her mind churning, quietly grieving for a person she had never known.

  "Did she love Namar?n? Did she love our people?" Fortney asked.

  "Oh, she grew to love them very much," the Sultan said. "The people were her heart. She longed for the mild weather of Yauna-- our powerful sun was hard on her fair skin-- but her heart was here with our people."

  "I am finished, father. Have I your leave?"

  "Of course, daughter."

  Fortney stood.

  "I will go to market after training today," she said.

  "Oh? We can send someone, instead. What do you need?"

  "I... need to be among the people," she said. "I want to remember them."

  The Sultan smiled indulgently.

  "Of course, my daughter."

  Fortney bowed and left the dining hall.

  True to Kadir's word, training that day was hard. Hard enough that Fortney took a rest afterward to recover from it, and from her late night. She drew the curtains in her bedroom and laid down for a while.

  Her strong body soon healed itself of its injuries and recovered its energy. After an hour she rose, ready for the rest of her day.

  She padded down the hall and gestured to one of the servants.

  "Fetch Kadir and Dhruva," she said. "I'm going to market."

  The servant bowed and darted off.

  Dhruva arrived first. She was dressed in the fine linen and bright colors of a lady of the court. She bowed low.

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  "I come, Shazedah," she said. "Shall I dress you for an outing?"

  Fortney's mouth twisted. She looked down at herself. She was dressed in the loose silk pants and surwal she typically wore.

  "What's wrong with my dress?" she asked.

  Dhruva remained bowed low.

  "You must show the people the glory of the princess, appropriate to her station and the court," she said softly. "The people must know the greatness of the Shazedah."

  Fortney scoffed.

  "My greatness is defined by my actions, not by my clothes," she said.

  Dhruva kept her face down.

  "It is as the Daughter of the Sun says. Yet even the sun is graced by its rays. The plains are graced with flowers. Should not the Jewel of Namar?n be arrayed in the wealth of her kingdom?"

  "No," Fortney said.

  Dhruva looked up at her with such an expression of disappointment that Fortney's resolve wavered.

  "If you will not array yourself for your own honor," Dhruva said, "I pray you would consider your servants. The people would think I am a lazy maid, failing to dress you according to your station."

  "Fine. Kadir's taking his time anyway. But I want something simple. Something I can move around in. None of those long gowns or sleeves."

  Dhruva darted off, returning shortly with a variety of clothes. She bustled Fortney back into a dressing chamber and quickly began layering colorful silks and jewelry on her.

  "Not too much," Fortney said. "I'm only going out for a bit."

  Dhruva continued to dress Fortney, heedless of the princess' words. By the time Kadir scratched respectfully at the door, Fortney was thoroughly dressed like a Princess of Namar?n, and Dhruva was beginning to fetch makeup.

  "Enough, Dhruva. Enough!" Fortney barked. "We're going now."

  Dhruva bowed low and meekly followed the princess out of the dressing chamber.

  Fortney walked the streets of Baradon toward the bazaar. Kadir stumped along behind her, his giant form shading her. Dhruva scuttled along as well, armed with a soft brush. She was fighting a losing battle with the dust of the street, surreptitiously brushing princess' silks, trying to keep them as tidy as possible. Fortney tolerated this with barely concealed impatience.

  Through the stone streets of the palace, where the courtiers and servants bowed deeply as they passed, into the dustier, noisier streets of the bazaar, lined with market booths, where people cried out in joy to see her.

  The street swirled with dust, carrying the spicy scent of cooking meat and the homey warmth of baking bread. Merchants shouted and gestured, trying to draw every eye that passed.

  Kadir's eyes swept the crowd, and his fierce expression kept a bubble clear around Fortney.

  "Kadir, your countenance frightens the people," she said.

  "Good," he replied. "My duty is to protect you, not the feelings of the people."

  Fortney walked gracefully down the street. The silks and jewelry Dhruva had laden her with helped her remember her comportment. Rather than her typical long, brash strides, she moved with mincing grace, appearing to float down the street.

  The hawkers in their stalls cried out to her, attempting to draw her eye with their wares. She nodded graciously as she passed, otherwise deaf to their calls.

  She drew up in front of a wide, well-apportioned stall that overflowed with fish. A small pot of incense smoked, the smell of burning herbs battling the stench of fish and brine. A fat merchant with a thick, gray, bristly beard sat in the shade of his booth, fanning himself.

  "Barzani," she addressed him. "Do you not cry your wares as do the others?"

  "Batavayzu, Shazedah," he said, throwing up his hands then bowing from his seat. His voice was rough and crude. He grinned. "The Jewel of Namar?n visits my humble stand. Why does she travel so far from the palace? Perhaps she has lost a bet in gambling, and must now come to the slums of Baradon. Perhaps she has lost her favorite ring, and seeks out the most disreputable stall in the city to find it."

  "Keep a respectful tongue," Kadir growled, "if you want to keep a tongue at all."

  Fortney quirked an almost-smile and made a calming motion at Kadir.

  "I see old age has taught you no wisdom, Barzani," she said.

  "Old age? The princess wounds me!" he said, pressing a hand to his chest. "I am still a young man, fit and fleet! Why, just yesterday I was flitting across rooftops and battling wicked men." He gestured to his corpulent frame. "Do not let my appearance fool you. I tell you truly, and only you, Shazedah, I am secretly the Bayze Shab, lurking in the city at night, protecting the people." He pressed a finger to the side of his nose. "Do not tell anyone."

  "I will keep your secret," Fortney said, her eyes pinched with mirth, "though I think that in reality that you are only a rascal and a scoundrel."

  "Ah, more wounds. The Shazedah descends from her lofty palace to heap abuse on a simple old man selling his wares in the market. Surely she does not seek to buy any of my fish. Surely so delicate and refined a frame needs nothing so crude as food, such as the people eat."

  Fortney smiled openly at Barzani's jousting while Kadir grumbled behind her.

  "I come for some of your fish of Yauna," she said. "I plan to make a special meal for the Sultan."

  Barzani bowed deeply again.

  "The exotic meats of the Glittering Sea," he said gravely. "Difficult, to bring such fanciful delicacies so far. And yet, grace smiles on our Shazedah." He heaved himself around, pulling a large basket out from underneath his table. "I have a few by chance, preserved in the dark gor sauce of the Yauna peoples."

  "What types do you have?" she asked.

  "The princess demands variety, on top of novelty!" Barzani cried, clutching his chest. "And yet... Barzani provides." He uncovered the basket and began enumerating what lay within. "We have the bahriyyah, of course, the tasty longfish of the Glittering Sea. Also the rimhash, the toothy predator." He grinned and dug deeper in the basket. "Of course, if you want truly exotic, I do have here some layluna, exotic moonfish. They say that one bite will give the eater the insight of the gods."

  Fortney's eyes went round, and Barzani's grin widened.

  "How do you get layluna fish this far inland? I thought they could only be caught in the deepest parts of the Glittering Sea?"

  Barzani's eyes twinkled.

  "Ah, Shazedah, that is my special secret. I tell you truly, and only to you, it takes the services of the sanat-magi. They have a debt with me, forged in the adventures of my youth. I once saved the high priest from Mahrūq the sea dragon, and in return he agreed to teach me the secrets of the Deep Sea." He pressed a finger to the side of his nose. "Do not tell anyone."

  Fortney barked a laugh.

  "Barzani, you are the worst liar in this city. But I will buy your layluna fish."

  Barzani opened his mouth in mock outrage.

  "Casting doubt on my honor? I am a righteous man, I would not lie! And yet, to sell a fish to the Shazedah is the highest honor. Now of course, to price... well, the price is very high. I would it were not so, and yet, I must support many children. I tell you truly, and only to you, I give to all the orphans of this city. Only the sale of my fish keeps them fed." He sighed and turned his eyes to the heavens, his heavy jowls jiggling. "I go without to provide for others. So in the hope of helping others, shall we say... twenty silvers per fish?"

  Fortney grinned at the outrageous price as she prepared to haggle. She knew Barzani would be genuinely offended if she did not try to squeeze the best price possible out of him.

  Hadevar the thief shifted from foot to foot, waiting in the alleyway. His tunic was tattered and ragged, a patchwork of rough brown goat-wool, and his turban was thin. He nervously watched people passing by on the crowded street outside. The alleyway was narrow and dim, protected from the sun by the height of the buildings surrounding it.

  A lean, stern man in fine attire turned into the alley and approached.

  "What news?" he asked, his voice stiff and formal.

  The ragged man ducked his head repeatedly, bobbing like a crane diving for fish.

  "Honor to you and your house," he said. "May your family be blessed with wealth and many children. May you--"

  "Enough of that. Tell me what you've seen."

  The ragged man ducked again.

  "The princess left the palace with her bodyguard and servant. They bought fish from Barzani the fish-seller in the bazaar. Then they bought spices and gor sauce, then returned to the palace. They were out long enough for the sun to rise two fingers."

  The lean man nodded.

  "Good. You serve well." His fingers dipped into his coin pouch and drew out a slim half-brass. The ragged man's eyes fixed on the tiny coin, and he licked his lips. "Your reward. Continue to serve with discretion, and you will continue to be rewarded." He dropped the coin in the man's dirty hand.

  "I will," Hadevar said, gazing intently at the coin.