Elio had the fifth date between two fingers and had been very careful not to eat it, because a date that has been eaten cannot be stolen again.

He was watching the doors. He had been at court five months, and he had learned that the interesting things came through doors.

When they opened, the servant came in bowing and a broad man came in behind him in dark green chiffon, brown-haired, a pale scar across one temple, both hands held where everyone could see them.

Elio put on his best smile and did not look at Marek.

He felt the wrist caught before he saw the hand.

Elio arranged his face into something wounded.

"I started counting when you stopped sharing."

"Darling," Elio said, turning over toward the bed, "your First Consort is bullying me over fruit."

Halvard did not even look up from his corner of the headboard.

Elio stared at him.

"I am." Halvard's thumb moved along her ankle, once.

Marek took the date out of his fingers and ate it, which was the whole of the joke, and Elio let him, and then went quiet, because the new man was still standing in the doorway and nobody had told him where to put his hands.

Five months at court and Elio knew exactly what a gift from the King meant. He smiled at the new man first, because whoever smiled first got to decide what the room was.