Song Coyote asks: What does King Brinnid think of the effect Temmin's role as a Supplicant to the Lover's Temple will have on the future of Tremont, both in regards to its relationship with Sairland and otherwise?

"Stewn, if you don't stop sighing I will make you leave the room," said Brinnid, as his man unpacked the overnight trunk that would transform him from the Earl of Maccal to the King of Sairland. Brinnid gratefuly stretched his feet out toward the flames in the hearth as he watched Stewn work. The house where they'd stopped for the night was one of Harsin's outlying estates, higher up in the mountains and surrounded by a small tea plantation; the nights here were cooler than in the capital, and the fire in the grate was very welcome.

"I'm sorry, your majesty," the valet said glumly. "It just seems a pity to be outside the capital on Neya's Day. Why not have stayed the extra day? You could have received the blessing, sir!"

"And watch my future brother-in-law frolic in the altogether? I think not."

"Well--I could have received the blessing, then, sir! He's not going to be MY brother-in-law!"

"True enough!" said Brinnid. "You could still draw down the blessing yourself, you know. I'm sure there's a maidservant or some such on the estate who's willing to share the blessing with you tonight, maybe even more than one for a handsome old salt like you."

"I'd freeze me balls off up here, sir, and that's a fact."

"That's never stopped you before, old friend," laughed Brinnid.

"No, it never has, s'true," reflected Stewn, "nor your majesty neither if I may be so bold."

"Hm. Had you ever considered Supplicancy, Stewn, at any of the Temples?"

"Me? Gods, no! Nor postulancy, neither, sir. My dad left seven of us behind to support, and I had to help my mam. And I laid with a girl long before age 16, so the Lovers were right out from the beginning. Why 16, sir? No one waits for adulthood, not even most girls, leastways the girls I was likely to be around at that age."

"My future brother-in-law did."

"And what kind of man is he, then, I'd like to know," sniffed Stewn. "Begging your pardon, sir."

"A very young one, from my brief observations. I don't know if I've ever seen a prince so naive." Brinnid looked into the fire. "I'd been at sea for four years by that age."

"Mama's boy?" said Stewn, brushing out Brinnid's evening jacket.

"Yes--no, no, that's not quite right. I saw him dance with his mother--did you see the queen, Stewn? No, you couldn't have. Three grown children and she still looks like a girl. No, it was clear when he danced with her that he worships her, but that's not surprising, most men do. I certainly did, and no one could call me a mama's boy."

"You still worship your mother," said Stewn, moving on to Brinnid's shirts. "Begging your pardon, sir."

"You've never cared for my pardon a day in your life, Stewn. My mother is a remarkable woman. In any event, no, Prince Temmin seems to have been sheltered of a purpose," said Brinnid, frowning slightly. "He wasn't sent off to school at Parkdale, as his father and grandfather were, nor to the cavalry, nor off to sea as I was. He's been tutored at home. Most unusual in this day and age."

"Why would anyone do that, sir? I should think the Tremontines would want their next king to be worldly wise. Sending him to the Lovers Temple wouldn't seem to be the best course of instruction for that!"

"I wonder," said Brinnid. "I danced with Miss Obby that night--the Embodiment of Neya, you know--and a very bright and perceptive little thing she is, too, besides a great beauty, but that goes without saying. Spoke with her brother as well. No, something's afoot, I just can't sketch out what."

"Supposed to be good luck, though, innit, sir?" said Stewn. "That's all they talked of below stairs wherever we've been in Tremont, how good times were coming because of the Heir going to the Temple."

"I don't see how anyone can know that. No Tremontine Heir's ever been a Supplicant to the Lovers' Temple that I'm aware of. There was a Sairish Heir once to do it, but that was long, long ago."

"Would you do it, sir?" said Stewn.

"Not on your life!" laughed Brinnid. "Now, am I arranged for the evening? Yes? Very well. Let's have ourselves a good Neya's Day dinner. Then it's off to bless the tea leaves!"

"A blessed drink indeed, sir!" said Stewn, helping his king into his jacket.