I woke to the sound of the 9 a.m. tolling of the great bell at the Temple followed by the carillon playing Princess Sophie's favorite carillon song, "I have lost my way without you."

It really was a lovely tune played on the tuned bells of the carillon with that persistent tolling of the low D twice a measure adding a bittersweet touch of longing. I wondered what she had been like and not for the first time. Cat seldom spoke about her because it made him depressed. I think he must have loved her very much.

Cat left the guest room we shared and didn’t wake me. He did that sometimes when I thought I needed the rest. He forgets how much stamina I have. He wasn't around to put the riding pad back on me, so I grabbed it and headed downstairs to find someone to help me put it on. It wasn't the sort of day to go out into a human city without some sign that I was part of society and not some random wild animal.

I found Proud Elk talking with King Stephano in that first sitting room on the ground floor we used last night. Other than those two, there was only a door attendant, and the rest of the Bishop's Palace appeared empty. I guessed the staff had been sent to help with the rescue efforts.

The king looked all dressed up with nowhere to go. The sapphire blue full-length houppelande hid how thin he was right now. He had an old-fashioned brimmed cap on his head of grey velvet.

Proud Elk contrasted with the king with his everyday green deerskin tunic. The older elf had a lovely black eye in the early stages of darkening, suggesting it was only an hour or two old, suggesting there was possibly a good tale behind the shiner. I padded up to him and placed the riding pad on his lap.

* Please, Uncle Proud Elk? * I remained standing so he could get the straps arranged. * Do you know where my boy went? *

“He was down about half an hour ago," the old elf started fussing with the straps. "He said he couldn't sleep, so he went out to help search for survivors of the fire."

“Now I feel twice as bad for not being out there,” Stephano sighed.

I looked at the king with my magic eye. He has neither strength nor stamina left in him.

* You should be resting. You are not yet a man who has recovered his health. Dawn wasn’t that long ago. You should still be in bed. You can’t have slept at all. It’s only nine. *

“I'm their king, Lady Fuzzy. Even as little as being seen can be an encouragement. I should be out there," he frowned and looked at the carpet. "Also, I just spent the last four years as a captive in my own bedroom. Do you think I want to go back to bed right now with my queen under arrest and my palace a ruin?"

* Then follow me out to the square and be seen. If you're too unsteady to walk that far, borrow my back, and I can take you there. Uncle, do you think you could follow with a chair for the king? *

“Storm Eagle assigned me to keep an eye on him, so of course, I will." Proud Elk finished the last buckle on the riding pad and stood up. "Let me get a skin of something to drink first, and I'll be right back." He left for the innards of the Bishop's Palace in his long-legged stride.

I instructed the king on how to get on the riding pad and arrange the stirrup strap, which was a little short for him, but he managed. By then, Proud Elk was back with two wine skins and two wooden cups. The three of us strolled out into the square to see the effort to find survivors.

Cat was in the middle of it though I was happy to see he was planted in a chair at a small table, using the scrying crystal. He was in the yellow doublet he wore last night. The houppelande was missing and he was wearing one of Willam’s green army tabards with the three grapevines of Nordweg embroidered in yellow. Willam was standing behind him in an identical tabard, notebook and pencil in hand.

A second table was set up about ten yards away was a nexus of movement. At the center of it was the Sahkeena, in a plain grey work dress and full apron. She was wearing that funny conical hat of hers with the multitude of veils hanging off of it. In her shadow was a stodgy looking older-woman attendant in Zimlakan dress and an equal number of veils. The woman had the sort of face that discouraged inappropriate suitors. Next to her was what was a Zimlakan soldier bodyguard. The wraps of white cloth that made up the man's onion hat were trimmed with cloth of gold.

Sakeena Aisha appeared to be directing logistics for activity on the square. As we approached, Cat had dictated something to Willam. Willam took the information to Aisha. Aisha studied and then directed people to form a party sent to the ruin of the north half of the palace. What had looked like just a crowd milling around were groups of different workers in a specialty waiting to be deployed: a handful of mages to help excavate and rescue, guardsmen and volunteers as labor, clergy and volunteers to handle post-rescue tasks like providing shelter and food.

Proud Elk put the king’s chair next to Cat, who was resting upright in his chair with his eyes closed. Willam made a deep and prompt bow, “My lord father.” He straightened up and fixed a dubious eye on Stephano, “are you feeling well enough to be out of bed, father?”

Cat was out of his chair before the king could stop him, an action he started too late to stop his oldest son. Cat made his own deep bow, “good morning, my lord father. Are you feeling any better?”

"You don't have to get up, Andray," Stephano was visibly disturbed. "Take care of your leg first."

My boy took at the smile and used it on his father, “it’s fine, father. It’s a perfectly good leg and it’s strong since it has to do the work of two. That being said, may I please have your leave to sit back down?”

Stephano was gaping. Then he collected himself, “please be seated, and for the record, you do not need to ask me for leave to sit ever again.”

The smile got more sincere, “but I will, you know. Doing all the etiquette motions I can is important. It’s just a leg I’m missing, not my heart nor my will nor my respect for you nor all the things I can do just the way I am.”

That little speech left the king speechless.

Cat sat down and studied his father, “you saw the me that I was six years ago, half-blind, burns that became scars, unable to walk or use my left arm. Of course, you saw all the things I could never be and could never do. You saw me as someone diminished and you grieved for what I had lost.”

“Yes, I have some significant limitations, but that’s all that they are to me. Everyone has limitations, but people everywhere get by because of what they can do and they work around the things they can’t do.” Cat tilted his head and studied his gobsmacked father, “might not be a bad idea to stop gaping, Dad, because there are certainly a fair number of flies out and one might find you.”

Cat changed his focus to me, "I thought you'd sleep all morning. Can you take over the scrying for people in the rubble who are still alive? I can feel there are still survivors in there, but I could use a little breather."

* You need to ask, boy who should still be in bed? *

“Sorry, Fuzzy. I kept thinking of all the people who might still be in the wreckage while I was comfortable in my bed, and it kept me from sleeping."

There wasn’t much I could say in reply to that. I just nuzzled my snout against his arm and purred at him.