He spoke slowly and carefully, but even so, I was glad of my conversations with my litter bearers, for I was able to make out most of his speech. He greeted us all formally, including Regal, for he said that previously he had greeted him only as the emissary of King Shrewd and now he greeted him as Prince Verity’s symbol of his presence. August was included in this greeting, and both were presented with several gifts, jeweled daggers, a precious fragrant oil, and rich fur stoles. When the stoles were placed about their shoulders, I thought with chagrin that both now looked more like decorations than princes, for in contrast to the simple garb of King Eyod and his attendants, Regal and August were decked in circlets and rings, and their garments were of opulently rich fabrics and cut with no regard for either thrift or service. To me, they both appeared foppish and vain, but I hoped that our hosts would merely think their outlandish appearance was part of our foreign customs.
And then, to my personal chagrin, the King summoned forward his male attendant and introduced him to our assemblage as Prince Rurisk. The woman was, of course, Princess Kettricken, and Verity’s betrothed.
And finally I realized that those who had been our litter bearers and greeted us with cakes and wine were not the servants, but the women of the royal household, the grandmothers, aunts, and cousins of Verity’s betrothed, all following the Jhaampe tradition of serving their people. I quailed to think I had spoken to them so familiarly and casually, and again mentally cursed Regal that he had not foreseen to send us more word of their customs rather than the long list of clothing and jewelry he wished brought for himself. The elderly woman beside me, then, was the King’s own sister. I think she must have sensed my confusion, for she patted my shoulder benignly and smiled at my blushes as I attempted to stutter an apology.
“For you have done nothing to shame yourself,” she informed me, and then bade me call her not “my lady” but Jonqui.
I watched as August presented to the Princess the jewelry Verity had selected to send her. There was a net of finely woven silver chain set with red gems to drape her hair, and a silver collar set with larger red stones. There was a silver hoop, wrought like a vine, full of jingling keys, that August explained were her household keys for when she joined him at Buckkeep, and eight plain silver rings for her hands. She stood still as Regal himself decked her. I thought to myself the silver with red stones would have looked better on a darker woman, but Kettricken’s girlish delight was dazzlingly obvious in her smile, and around me people turned and murmured approvingly to one another to see their princess so adorned. Perhaps, I thought, she might enjoy our outlandish colors and accoutrements.
I was grateful for the briefness of King Eyod’s speech that followed. For all he added was that he bid us welcome and invited us to rest, relax, and enjoy the city. If we had any needs, we had but to ask of anyone we encountered, and they would attempt to meet them. Tomorrow at noon would begin the three-day ceremony of the Joining, and he desired that we all be well rested to enjoy it. Then he and his offspring descended, to mingle as freely with one and all as if we were all soldiers on the same watch.
Jonqui had obviously attached herself to me, and there was no gracious way to escape her company, so I resolved to learn as much as I could as quickly as I could about their customs. But one of her first acts was to present me to the Prince and Princess. They were standing with August, who appeared to be explaining how, through him, Verity would witness his ceremony. He was speaking loudly, as if this would somehow make it easier for them to understand. Jonqui listened a moment, then apparently decided that August had finished speaking. She spoke as if we were all children brought together for sweet cakes while our parents conversed. “Rurisk, Kettricken, this young man is most interested in our gardens. Perhaps later we can arrange that he speak with those who tend them.” She seemed to speak especially to Kettricken as she added, “His name is FitzChivalry.”
August frowned suddenly and amended her introduction. “Fitz. The Bastard.”
Kettricken looked shocked at this sobriquet, but Rurisk’s fair face darkened somewhat. Ever so slightly, he turned toward me, putting his shoulder to August. Even so, it was a gesture that needed no explaining in any language. “Yes,” he said, switching to Chyurda and looking me full in the eye. “Your father spoke of you to me, the last time I saw him. I was grieved to hear of his death. He did much to prepare the way for the forging of this bond between our folk.”
“You knew my father?” I asked stupidly.
He smiled down at me. “Of course. He and I were treating together, regarding the use of a Bluerock Pass, at Moonseye, northeast of here, when he first learned of you. When our time of talking of passes and trade as envoys was done, we sat down to meat together, and spoke together, as men, of what he must next do. I confess, I still do not understand why he felt he must not rule as King. The customs of one folk are not those of another. Still, with this wedding, we shall be closer to making one folk of our peoples. Do you think that would please him?”