Five hundred...no. He's misspoken, surely. Except from that sheepish look on his face, he hasn't, and Kat swallows.

And begins counting in her head. When she gets to thirty, she manages to draw a calming breath. "Where do you want to hold it, Your Majesty? There are limited venues within the Castle that will hold that many people, and outdoor events are chancey in autumn."

Later, she thinks. Later there will be darts. And a photograph. So many darts and one photograph.