Alurna glanced at him with quick interest. "I thought so! I can always tell when you've got some surprise for me. What is it this time?"
"Visitors," Urim replied. "Three noble-born young men have traveled from Ammad to pay their respects. They have brought gifts from your uncle—many of them for you!"
Visitors from the mother country were rare, since few elected to attempt the perilous journey to Sephar. Alurna's uncle was king in Ammad, and the two brothers were warm friends. Urim, himself, had been born in Ammad, having come to Sephar as ruler when the former king, old Pyron, had died childless. Alurna had never seen the city of her father's birth, having been born in Sephar.
When Alurna had completed her toilet, she joined her father, and together they descended the broad central staircase of the palace to the lower hall. After passing through several well-furnished rooms, they entered a crowded dining hall and took seats at the head of a long table. The other diners had risen at their entry; they remained standing until Urim motioned for them to sit again.
Another group entered the hall, now, and all, save Urim and his daughter, rose to greet them. These newcomers were the visitors from Ammad, and as they approached vacant benches near the table's head, Urim stood to welcome them, his arms folded to signify friendship, a broad smile on his lips.
He turned to Alurna. "My daughter, welcome the friends of my brother. This is Tamar; this, Javan; and Jotan—my daughter, Alurna."
The girl smiled dutifully to the three. Two were of the usual type about her—slight, small-boned, graceful men with little to distinguish them.
But the other—Jotan—caught her attention from the first. He was truly big—standing a full six feet, with heavy broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs. His eyes were a cold flinty blue, deep-set in a strong masculine face. His jaw was square and firm, the recently scraped skin ruddy and clear. He carried himself with no hint of self-consciousness at being in the presence of royalty; his bearing as regal as that of Urim, himself.
One after the other the three visitors touched the princess' hand. Jotan, the last, held her fingers a trifle longer than was necessary, while his eyes flashed a look of admiration that turned red the girl's cheeks. She withdrew her hand abruptly, hiding her confusion by hurried speech.