"Nothing can change their sacrifice-that's true. As for the death warrant-Father believed you dead at the hands of the Nargi. I only recently learned otherwise. The warrant has been struck from the books. You're pardoned."
Tris saw a mixture of anger and old pain in Jonmarc's dark eyes. No one spoke. Finally, Jonmarc drew a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you."
Kalcen grinned with unexpected humor, his white teeth a contrast against his dark skin. "Donelan tells me that you plan to marry his ward. That would make you kin to both him and to Martris Drayke. You're already liegeman to Staden. I suspect there would be protest if I tried to clap you in irons. Although I would relish a go in the salle-they say your skill is the best in a generation."
"If you're as good as Kiara, you might give me a run for my money. But I still won most of my matches with her."
Kalcen laughed. "Eastmark is open to you now. When you return North, come to visit. We'll see about that time in the salle."
Outside, the bells tolled the tenth hour. "We're all due in the ballroom," Tris said, moving for the door. "And as the host, I'm late. We'll see you-and Carina-later?"
Jonmarc nodded. "We'll be there."
SHEKERISHET'S GREAT ROOM sparkled with mirrors and candlelight. Carroway's musicians played tunes that kept the guests on their feet, twirling in finely-clothed pairs to more sedate numbers, or dancing in boisterous groups to more lively songs. Although Carina was seated between Cam and Jonmarc at the table, the press of people and the obligations of court prevented any real conversation. Jonmarc chafed at the delay. Everyone assumed that Carina would accept his proposal, but he had yet to have the opportunity to have any kind of private discussion.
Remembering the assassin in the Winterstide crowd, Jonmarc wore a shirt of fine gauge mail beneath his court clothes. It had been Gabriel's suggestion. The shirt, made by vayash moru craftsmen, was lighter and stronger than anything he had ever worn in combat. If Carina guessed, she said nothing, although her choice of gown harked back to her observation that red would be less likely to show blood.
Near the front of the great room, Tris and Kiara greeted well-wishers. "When they took to the dance floor, Jonmarc noted that Soterius's guards made sure that a circle of floor was clear around them. Ban's not taking any chances on a repeat of Winterstide. Can't say I blame him.
Gabriel and Mikhail stood near the back, talking with Riqua and Rafe. Astasia and Uri were notably absent. Jonmarc let the conversation buzz around him as he scanned the room for danger. As the time wore on without incident, he relaxed, just a little. After meeting Donelan and Kalcen, he felt as if he'd already run a dangerous gauntlet. But the nervousness he felt in the pit of his stomach had nothing to do with kings. Until he'd had the chance to talk privately with Carina, he doubted he could truly relax.