Wings of Flame by Nancy Springer

men killed by brigands at an inn, the rest by treachery and poison; only Seda’s nursing saved me, and my horse, which carried me out of constant peril.”
    Seda stood staring at the fine floor of inlaid wood beneath her bare feet, but as Kyrem spoke, she risked a glance at Auron. He looked gray with shock, anguished rather than angry, as stricken as a mother facing a hurt child, and slowly he settled his crown onto his head.
    â€œBut this is terrible! That you should have been so beset on your way to me, in my kingdom.”
    Seda felt a sudden impulse to fall to her knees. Auron’s soft robes suited him, for he was more than king—he was parent, the kind father and loving mother she had scarcely known. Her legs trembled and weakened, but as she watched, he set aside emotion for the time and his face grew still and thoughtful.
    â€œPrince Kyrem, you are most warmly welcome here,” he said quietly. “Please come in, sit down.” He gestured, nearly touching Kyrem but thinking better of it. “Have some wine, tell me everything. I need to know places, dates, the circumstances.”
    Kyrem remained standing where he was. “I have sometimes thought,” he said evenly, “that those might have been men of your hiring who sought to kill me.” Seda trembled at his boldness. But Auron did not seem affronted.
    â€œYet you are here?” He glanced appraisingly at the youth, the dart of his eyes keen and seeking beneath the foppish headdress and crown. “Then you are very brave. And I cannot condemn you for your thought. But it is not true.”
    â€œI can believe nothing you say,” Kyrem stated flatly. “I look only for falsehood. You are my enemy.”
    â€œKy, what are you saying?” Seda whispered, then found herself speaking aloud. “What are you saying?” She spun to face him, a small fury. “Show some decency! He has greeted you as an honored guest. No, more. As—”
    She would have said as a son. But Kyrem had turned on her in astonishment and anger. “Seda, what has gotten into you?” he shouted. King Auron looked as astonished as he.
    â€œYou apologize at once!” Seda shouted back.
    â€œThat will not be necessary!” Auron exclaimed, and Kyrem drew back in disgust.
    â€œI will go see to my horse,” he said, “if that is permitted. Or did you intend to have me put in chains?”
    â€œI had not thought of it,” Auron said mildly.
    â€œKyrem, you proud fool—” Seda began, shocked anew. But Kyrem glared at her and strode out, the heavy carved door banging behind him. King and shuntali were left alone in the hallway, and Auron was studying Seda with friendly interest in his eyes.
    â€œYou are a Vashtin,” he said. “I can tell that much. But how is it that he calls you Seda? That is not a Vashtin name.”
    She said nothing and started to tremble yet again, her eyes transfixed by his and terrified. She could not allow herself a name before him, before her king, she the shuntali; she felt sure she would die if she did. Falsehood, and her own manifest unworthiness—
    â€œOh, I see,” Auron murmured thoughtfully. “Never mind that then. Tell me, how did you come to travel with Kyrem? You two make an odd pair.”
    She could not answer. Fear bound her speechless, and she looked as if she would faint.
    â€œLad, believe me, there is no need to be so afraid.” Auron drew closer as he spoke, stooping slightly, putting his face on a level with hers. “A king also makes an odd sort of outcast creature. We are not so unlike.”
    She did not hear him, for floor and walls had begun to spin at his nearness. His presence demanded an answer from her, a confession, or so she thought—She closed her eyes.
    â€œShuntali,” she whispered, that terrible, that hated word she had never before spoken. Then she fell to the floor. She had meant, when she began, to seek