Bayaz’ eyes flickered briefly over her face like a pawnshop owner’s asked for an estimate on some gaudy heirloom. Finree’s father cleared his throat, somewhat reluctantly. “This is my daughter—” “Finree dan Brock, of course. My congratulations on your marriage.” She smothered her surprise. “You are very well informed, Lord Bayaz. I would have thought myself beneath notice.” She ignored a cough of agreement from Meed’s direction. “Nothing can be beneath the notice of a careful man,” said the Magus. “Knowledge is the root of power, after all.
