‘We call upon the Saint, who sits in Halgalant, to bless his descendants.’ The sanctarian closed her book. ‘May he bless our good Queen Sabran. May he bless her mother, Marian, Lady of the Inysh. And may he bless our princess, Glorian, whose womb will spring the next fruit of the vine.’ Glorian shifted her weight. ‘They are the river, the chain, the promise.’ ‘The river, the chain, the promise,’ the congregation echoed. ‘May he bless the Queendom of Inys.’ ‘Go,’ the sanctarian called, ‘and live in virtue.’ Queen Sabran made the sign of the sword.
