"He can arrange a mean vase of flowers, too." Alexandra fiddled with one of the machine's dials. "So when you're not running this place, and obsessing over making every aspect of Byrne's life perfect, what do you do for fun?"

"Fun." Jayr tried to think.

"You know, something for your own enjoyment," she said, adding another dollop of the cold gel to Jayr's skin. "Something you like. Something that doesn't involve your lord and master."

Cyprien's sygkenis still thought like a human. "My duties give me great satisfaction."

"But you've got to have a hobby or something. You can't devote every waking minute to handling stuff for Byrne." Alex pushed the end of the device harder against Jayr's left hip. "Do you ever go shopping, or hang out at the beach, or see a movie?"

"Our merchants deliver. The beaches are dangerous places at night. I do not care to watch moving pictures." Jayr thought of something. "When my lord has no need of me, I will take a long bath and read. I am very fond of Sara Donati's Wilderness novels." She hesitated. "Sometimes I sketch; other times I attempt to compose poetry. That pleases me, I suppose. When it does not bedevil me."

"I'd like to hear some poetry," Alexandra said. "Can you recite it off the top of your head?"

"It is not very good," Jayr warned her. "Most of it does not rhyme."

"Like I'm a critic." Alex moved the device down to a spot just above her mound. "Come on, kid, hit me with a dirty limerick or something."

Jayr recalled a short piece she had written at the beginning of the winter, and repeated it out loud:

"We live in darkness, cold and dead,

and wish for the light, warm and alive

but from darkness came the heavens

as the night bears the day

and winter frost the summer bounty.

What will come from the Darkkyn

will be tender and new, a light

more radiant and giving than the sun,

and the souls against whom we sinned

will at last bless our name."

Alexandra was silent for a long time. "That's really pretty. Simple, but powerful." She looked as if she might say something else, then shook her head as though disagreeing with herself. "Right, I've got to do one more pass and we'll finish up with the injection." She turned the machine sideways. "Want to see what your plumbing looks like?"

Jayr observed the odd black-and-white images appearing as Alexandra continued the exam. "It looks as if I've swallowed a handful of truffles whole."

"Good analogy. Your uterus and stomach are about the same size as walnuts." Alex paused, regarding the screen thoughtfully. "I think I've found out why you never menstruated while you were human, too. The good news is, you don't have any male sexual organs, so you're not a hermaphrodite. The bad news is that your ovaries"—she tapped the screen in two places—"are raisins."

Jayr looked at the tiny spots the doctor pointed to. "Is that not how they should be?"

"In Kyn females they should be about five times larger, the size of prunes. My guess is your ovaries were diseased or deformed from birth." She shifted the device. "Can I ask you something that's probably going to offend you?" When Jayr nodded, she said, "You're not a virgin, so why aren't you sexually active now?"

Jayr felt appalled and stared at the monitor. "You can see that as well?"

"Not on here. I noticed that your hymen had been ruptured when I performed the pelvic," Alex told her. "Was the first time painful? Is that why you're still living like a nun?"

"Yes and no."

Alex sighed. "Kid, stop. You're drowning me with all this unnecessary information."

Jayr shifted her gaze to the lights above the table and tried to think of how to explain. "My first time was not terribly painful. It was the only time. I am celibate because I do not feel strong needs." That, at least, was partly true. She did not have to mention the endless, gnawing need she still had for Byrne.

"Well, missing out on puberty left you with an underdeveloped body and a dormant libido." Alex set aside the device, shut down the monitor, and wiped off the gel from Jayr's stomach. "Once we start this therapy, that may change. You could start having all kinds of inconvenient feelings. Are you okay with that?"

"Of course." Jayr looked at the liquid-filled needle Alexandra prepared. "I do want to be like you and other females, Doctor. However long it takes."

"We're about to find out. Hold still now; this will pinch." She plunged the tip of the syringe into the side of Jayr's neck. "I talked to Jema, and she said the injections always made her feel better. I' in hoping reversing the formula won't cause an opposite reaction."

"I can feel nothing but the sting of the wound," Jayr said honestly.

"Good." Alexandra removed the needle. "The synthetic gonadotropin probably won't start working immediately; your pituitary has been dormant for a long time, and I'm sure that the pathogen will run interference until it decides to accept the new hormones. I may have to add more plasma into the mix to tempt it to cooperate, too. But that's it; you can get dressed."

While Jayr changed into her clothes, the doctor printed out several of the images the ultrasound machine had stored and clipped them into a chart. She checked her watch and swore.

"I promised Michael I'd go with him to this big dance tonight," Alexandra explained. "That means closing up shop and going and making myself look pretty. Cyprien bought me this gown with a million little hooks up the back. It's gorgeous, but he'd better be in our room to help me get it on or I'm going in jeans. What are you wearing tonight?"

"Our wardrobe keeper made a new tunic and trousers for me." Jayr grimaced. "I wanted leathers, but he favors velvet."

"You're off duty, aren't you?" Alex asked. "Why don't you wear a dress?"

"Because I do not own any."

She made a tsking sound. "If you're going to have a woman's body, kiddo, you should clean out the closet and go shopping. Wearing women's clothes will make any changes that pop out less startling to guys around here. You might look into getting some bras, too."

"Bras."

Alex nodded. "They're the modern version of corsets. Just avoid the ones with underwires, that are made entirely of lace, or that are labeled 'push-up.' They're actually instruments of torture disguised as underwear."

Jayr dreaded the prospect—she had not coped with the restrictions of skirts and bodices since her human life—but added them to the cost of what she would gain. "Thank you, Doctor. I must go and dress my lord for the ball. I will see you tonight."

As Jayr left, she heard Alex mutter something that sounded like, "What, he can't even dress himself?"

"You've had time to conduct your meetings and turn them over in your head a thousand times," Byrne said as he handed Cyprien a glass of bloodwine and joined him by the fire. "Have you made your final selections?"

"I have." Michael cradled the glass in his long fingers. "You will not reconsider your decision?"

"Replaced or not, I am leaving," Byrne told him, "the first of the year."

The seigneur inclined his head. "I have finalized the candidate list to five names. I will choose among them after the joust."

"Who are they?"

"I did not expect you would care." Cyprien's mouth curled. "Adolfo, Daven, Halkirk, Locksley, and Nottingham."

Byrne couldn't imagine the cold Italian as master of the Realm. "Why would you think Nottingham a suitable candidate?"

"He interests me in the same way Lucan once did," Cyprien said. "One should make allies of those who would otherwise be enemies."

Byrne put a hand to his ear. "Is that Richard's voice I hear coming out of your lips?"

The seigneur's mouth hitched. "Tell me what you really think."

"You've an interesting quintuplet." Byrne sat forward as he began picking apart the list with relish. "Adolfo has little love for humans; he couldnae tolerate our tourist trade."

"He need not keep the Realm open to human visitors," Cyprien said.

"He had better play the stock market as Rob does, then."

Byrne suggested, "as the profits from the tourist trade are what finance the jardin."

"Strike Adolfo. What about the others?"

"Daven is an incessant womanizer, He would turn the place into a brothel or end up losing his head to a Kyn he carelessly cuckolds." Byrne stretched his arms until the joints popped before settling back. "Halkirk seems a decent sort, but he cannae deny his sygkenis anything, and you know how expensive her tastes are. The two of them would empty my coffers in a fortnight."

"True," Cyprien said, "but they will not be your coffers after you go. Do not glower at me like that. I am of the same opinion. What do you think of this Nottingham? He may have offended Locksley, but he readily agreed to surrender his colors, and seems willing to adapt to our customs."

"He employs heathens, and his seneschal is a caltrop with a mouth, arms, and legs." Byrne brooded for a moment. "He seems cool and polished enough, but he is hiding something. I cannae say what or why, Michael, but I dinnae trust him."

"Very well." Cyprien folded his arms. "That leaves only your friend Locksley."

Friend? He hardly knew anymore. "Aye, Rob."

"His petition surprised me, but he expressed a wish to join his holdings with yours and make them a single suzerainty. I can see some advantage to that. He knows the Realm as well as you, and your men favor him, although something tells me that your friendship is strained." Glass snapped, and he looked down at the pieces of crystal in Byrne's hand. "The wine spilling down the front of your doublet, perhaps."