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A courtier named Randel-tall, thin, dark, and gener- ally smiling-came
into the room. I knew something was up because he was not smiling and he was
moving faster than usual. He swept us with his gaze, fixed upon Vialle,
advanced quickly and cleared his throat.
"M'lady Majesty . . . ?" he began.
Vialle turned her head slightly in his direction:
"Yes, Randel?" she said. "What is it?"
"The delegation from Begma has just arrived," he answered, "and I find
myself without instructions as to the nature of their welcome and any
special arrangements that would be suitable."
"Oh dear'" Vialle said; laying aside her fork. "They weren't due until
the day after tomorrow, when Random will be back. He's the one they'll be
wanting to complain to. What have you done with them?"
"I seated them in the Yellow Room," he replied, "and told them I would
go and announce their arrival."
She nodded.
"How many of them are there?"
"The prime minister, Orkuz," he said, "his secretary, Nayda-who is also
his daughter-and another daughter, Coral. There are also four servants-two
men and two women."
"Go and inform the household staff, and be sure that appropriate
quarters are made ready for them," she directed, "and alert the kitchen.
They may not have had lunch."
"Very good, Your Highness," he said, beginning to back away
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