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By the time he reached his wife’s apartments the sounds of chaos has died in the Palace and order was well on the way to being restored. A seemingly endless stream of courtiers and soldiers came to speak with Faroz as he made his way, as though to reassure themselves that he had indeed been found. He brushed aside their questions with a wave of his hand, refusing to answer, and none dared press him any further. He did not enter Bekah’s rooms but sent word to her through the guards that he was well. He bid them tell her that he would speak with her of this incident at her official audience this afternoon.
The King made his way to his own rooms where he was hurriedly dressed by his servants in his robes of state. Long, richly flowing gowns of silk hung about him and his head was bowed beneath the weight of the thick silver crown of the Pashtian monarch by the time he reached his audience chamber, just a few minutes after the time he was due. The applicants and supplicants for the day were all there ahead of him, standing nervously against the walls, some of them in small groups, others laden with papers, and some few anxiously fidgeting on their own. The King was separated from them by a score of his personal guard, who took up their stations at the foot of the low dais upon which he reclined. The only person permitted to join him upon this was the Chamberlain Jarult, who stood hovering nearby throughout the afternoon, ready to answer any question and lend whatever counsel his King required.
The first petitions were those that he had put of yesterday, and they were all dull matters of trade. The King understood the importance of trade for his people, and he had worked hard to become conversant in the ways and manner of it (and in this, his Queen had been very helpful), but it bored him still. After these came a number of requests from various guilds and some members of the nobility. The one interesting moment in the afternoon came when he had to decide a dispute between two powerful lords. There was a question of ownership over a piece of land in the mountains and the law was unclear. In such a case, royal wisdom was the only recourse. Faroz listened to both petitioners, asked Jarult for a clarification of the law, and then questioned a number of witnesses procured by both sides. In the end he rendered the kind of decision that he had become master of: one with which neither side was entirely happy, but which they could live with.
Throughout the waning hours of the day his mind turned insistently to Ashnaz, and to the King’s own family. He wondered what decision his children would make concerning the alliance. The Emissary’s answers at the interview with the Prince and Princess had been fair and courteous, and Faroz had no doubt what his decision would be, were it still his. He wondered further about Gjeelea and her marriage to Korak, and how he was to handle his all-too-soon-to-be son-in-law. His mind sharpened as he again considered the difficult issue of whom he should name heir. Something would have to be done about that, and soon. He was sure that the panic which had gripped the Palace when he had been thought lost had been exacerbated by the confusion of who would take his place. He knew who he would want to take his place, should anything untimely befall him, but he knew as well how difficult such a decision would be to justify…
At last, the day’s petitions were over. Faroz ordered the guards to clear the room and to attend him in the corridor. He thanked Jarult for his service that day and asked him to leave as well. The King was alone while he waited for his wife to arrive for her audience…and he wondered what they would have to say to one another.
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