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A terrible sick feeling rose in me。 〃What are you trying to tell me？〃 I whispered。
The Fool whirled at the pain in my voice。 〃No。 No！ You mistake me entirely！〃 There was sincerity in his voice； and for an instant I could see my friend again。 〃But；〃 he continued in a softer； almost sly tone； 〃if you believed the King had killed your mother； your much…cherished； loving； indulgent mother； had killed her and snatched her forever away from you。 Do you think you might then kill him？〃
I had been blind for so long that it took me a moment to understand him。 I knew Regal believed his mother had been poisoned。 I knew it was one source of his hatred for me； and for 〃Lady Thyme。〃 He believed we had carried out the killing。 At the behest of the King。 I knew it all to be false。 Queen Desire had poisoned herself。 Regal's mother had been overly fond of both drink and those herbs that bring surcease from worry。 When she had not been able to rise to the power she believed was her right； she had taken refuge in those pleasures。 Shrewd had tried several times to stop her； had even applied to Chade for herbs and potions that would end her cravings。 Nothing had worked。 Queen Desire had been poisoned； it was true； but it was her own self…indulgent hand that had administered it。 I had always known that。 And knowing it； I had discounted the hate that would breed in the heart of a coddled son； suddenly bereft of his mother。
Could Regal kill over such a thing？ Of course he could。 Would he be willing to bring the Six Duchies to the teetering edge of ruin as an act of vengeance？ Why not？ He had never cared for the Coastal Duchies。 The Inland Duchies； always more loyal to his inland mother； were where his heart was。 If Queen Desire had not wed King Shrewd； she would have remained Duchess of Farrow。 Sometimes； when in her cups and heady with herbal intoxicants； she would ruthlessly suggest that if she had remained as Duchess； she would have been able to wield more power； enough to persuade Farrow and Tilth to unite under her as queen and shrug off their allegiance to the Six Duchies。 Galen； the Skill Master； Queen Desire's own bastard son； had nurtured Regal's hatred along with his own。 Had he hated enough to subvert his coterie to Regal's revenge？
To me it seemed a staggering treason； but I found myself accepting it。 He would。 Hundreds of folk slain； scores Forged； women raped； children orphaned； entire villages destroyed for the sake of a Princeling's vengeance over an imagined wrong。 It staggered me。 But it fit。 It fit as snug as a coffin lid。
〃I think perhaps the present Duke of Farrow should have a care for his health；〃 I mused。
〃He shares his older sister's fondness for fine wine and intoxicants。 Well supplied with these； and careless of all else； I suspect he will live a long life。〃
〃As perhaps King Shrewd might？〃 I ventured carefully。
A spasm of pain twitched across the Fool's face。 〃I doubt that a long life is left to him；〃 he said quietly。 〃But what is left might be an easy one； rather than one of bloodshed and violence。〃
〃You think it will e to that？〃
〃Who knows what will swirl up front the bottom of a stirred kettle？〃 He went suddenly to my door； and set his hand to the latch。 〃That is what I ask you；〃 he said quietly。 〃To forgo your twirling； Sir Spoon。 To let things settle。〃
〃I cannot。〃
He pressed his forehead to the door； a most un…Fool…like gesture。 〃Then you shall be the death of kings。〃 Grieved words in a low voice。 〃You know 。。。 what I am。 I have told you。 I have told you why I am here。 This is one thing of which I am sure。 The end of the Farseer line was one of the turning points。 Kettricken carries an heir。 The line will continue。 That is what was needed。 Cannot an old man be left to die in peace？〃
〃Regal will not let that heir be born；〃 I said bluntly。 Even the Fool widened his eyes to hear me speak so plain。 〃That child will not e to power without a King's hand to shelter under。 Shrewd； or Verity。 You do not believe Verity is dead。 You have as much as said so。 Can you let Kettricken endure the torment of believing it is so？ Can you let the Six Duchies go down in blood and ruin？ What good is an heir to the Farseer throne； if the throne is but a broken chair in a burned…out hall？〃
The Fool's shoulders slumped。 〃There are a thousand crossroads；〃 he said quietly。 〃Some clear and bold； some shadows within shadows。 Some are nigh onto certainties； it would take a great army or a vast plague to change those paths。 Others are shrouded in fog； and I do not know what roads lead out of them； or to where。 You fog me； bastard。 You multiply the fixtures a thousandfold； just by your existing。 Catalyst。 From some of those fogs go the blackest； twisted threads of damnation； and from others shining twines of gold。 To the depths or the heights； it seems； are your paths。 I long for a middle path。 I long for a simple death for a master who was kind to a freakish； jeering servant。〃
He made no more rebuke than that。 He lifted the latches and undid the bolts and left quietly。 The rich clothing and careful walk made him appear deformed to me； as his motley and capers never had。 I closed the door softly behind him and then stood leaning against it as if I could hold the fixture out。
I prepared myself most carefully for dinner that evening。 When I was finally dressed in Mistress Hasty's latest set of clothes for me； I looked almost as fine as the Fool。 I had decided that as yet I would not mourn Verity； nor even give the appearance of mourning。 As I descended the stairs it seemed to me that most of the Keep was converging on the Great Hall this evening。 Evidently all had been summoned to attend； grand folk and humble。
I found myself seated at a table with Burrich and Hands and other of the stable folk。 It was as humble a spot as I had ever been given since King Shrewd had taken me under his wing； and yet the pany was more to my liking than that of the higher tables。 For the honored tables of the Great Hall were packed with folk little known to me； the Dukes and visiting nobility of Tilth and Farrow for the most part。 There were a scattering of faces I knew； of course。 Patience was seated as almost befit her rank； and Lacey was actually seated at a table above me。 I saw no sign of Molly anywhere。 There were a scattering of folk from Buckkeep Town； most of them the well…to…do； and most of them seated more favorably than I would have expected。 The King was ushered in； leaning on the newly elegant Fool； followed by Kettricken。
Her appearance shocked me。 She wore a simple robe of drab brown； and she had cut her hair for mourning。 She had left herself less than a hand's width of hair； and bereft of its rich weight； it stuck out about her head like a dandelion gone to seed。 Its color seemed to have been cut away with its length； leaving it as pale as the Fool's。 So accustomed had I been to seeing the heavy gold braids of her hair that her head now appeared oddly small atop her wide shoulders。 Her pale blue eyes were made strange by eyelids reddened by weeping。 She did not look like a mourning Queen。 Rather she appeared bizar