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“Are you serious? You’ve thought about that?”

“Of course I have.”

“You’re even better at your job than I thought you were.”

“Somehow that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

She laughed. “It is! I don’t know why you always doubt me most when I’m being completely sincere.”

He eyed her for a moment and didn’t answer. She laughed again and pulled a chair close to where he had settled on his pallet. “So I have a question for you,” she said in a chatty tone.

He looked even more doubtful. “What,” he said, his voice flat.

“How often have you spent the night in a woman’s room?”

He rolled his eyes and rested his back against the door. “How often have you been told your behavior is inappropriate?”

“More times than I can count!” she retorted. “So is that your answer, too? More times than you can count?”

“I think you knew I wouldn’t answer the question when you asked it.”

“But I want to know.”

“But I don’t have to tell you.”

She flounced a little, not easy to do on a hard-backed chair. “Well, then, how often did you spend the night in
Josetta’s
room?” When he looked even more annoyed, she hastened to add, “Just watching over her! Keeping her safe! I wasn’t implying anything else.”

“The situation never arose,” he said.

She allowed herself to look unconvinced. “Really? That’s odd. I thought—” Her voice trailed off.

“Why? What did Josetta say?” he asked, caught briefly off guard.

“Well, I just thought—I mean, it always seemed that you were so close—or at least,
Josetta
felt close to
you
—”

“That might be,” he said. He seemed to be thinking over how to frame his reply. “I suppose it’s not uncommon for a young woman—who has been very sheltered—to sometimes find that she’s—that she thinks she is—” He started over. “A man who has agreed to guard her with his life might appear in a somewhat romantic light—”

Corene could hardly contain her delight. “I knew it!” she exclaimed. “Josetta offered herself to you, didn’t she? She always said there was nothing between the two of you, but I always thought she liked you more than she’d admit.”

Now he seemed alarmed. “I didn’t say that.”

She shrugged, guessing at what must have happened. “Josetta approached you, but you turned her down with talk about guards and assignments and duty. And being the sweet, polite, good girl that she is, Josetta meekly nodded and turned away. Is that what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said.

“Huh,” she said. She resettled in the chair again, but really it wasn’t made for lounging around and having conversations about love. She couldn’t get comfortable. Or maybe she just couldn’t relax. “Well, I’d still like to know the answer to my original question.”

“What question was that?” he asked wearily.

“About all the girls you’ve been in love with.”

“I’ve been too busy to fall in love.”

“No one’s that busy.”

“Maybe it’s just that I love my job.”

“Right now your job is me,” she said.

His face stilled. His body stilled. He just looked at her. Corene felt herself freeze in place on the unforgiving chair as she stared back at him.

“That’s right,” he said, finally, slowly, not looking away from her. “And my job is to keep you safe. From any hazards that might arise—even the ones you create yourself.”

Her chin lifted at the reprimand.
You might throw yourself at me, but I will guard you from the consequences of your reckless behavior.
“Are you really that good?” she asked softly. “You can save me from my own indiscretions?”

“I won’t have to,” he said. “You’re too smart to put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Unless I don’t think I’m putting myself at risk.”

“Oh,” he said, “I think you always know exactly what the risks are. You like to
play
with fire, but you won’t let it burn you.”

Abruptly, she came to her feet, feeling oddly shaky. She wondered if Foley was half as unnerved by this conversation as she was. He still sat utterly motionless, watching her with a coiled attention.
Yes. Probably just as unnerved.
But far more determined to remain unmoved.

“I’m not so sure,” she said, moving toward the bedroom but glancing back at Foley. “What’s the point of being sweela, after all, if you can’t handle a few flames?”

The farther away she got, the more Foley seemed to relax. “What’s the point of being torz,” he retorted, “if you can’t remain steadfast and strong?”

That made her laugh, which made him smile in return. “I feel like I should warn you that this conversation isn’t over,” she said.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I know you well enough by now to realize that on my own.”

She gave another laugh, this one interrupted by a yawn. Foley’s smile grew wider.

“Go to bed,” he said. “You’re exhausted.”

“I shouldn’t be so tired. I’ve only been up a few hours.”

“You were in pretty bad shape yesterday. I’m surprised you’ve stayed on your feet this long.”

She yawned again. “You’re right. I’m going right to sleep. I’ll see
you in the morning.” Her hand on the doorknob, she suddenly remembered a detail that had slipped her mind. “Oh, no! I promised Leah I’d come see her today! She has something to tell me.”

“I sent her a note this morning when it was clear you weren’t going to be leaving the palace. I said you’d try to get to the market tomorrow or the next day.”

“Excellent. I wonder what she wants, though?”

“I guess you’ll find out in the morning.”

TWENTY

B
reakfast was about as awkward an occasion as Corene could remember in her entire life, and there had been plenty of unpleasant meals in the court at Chialto. Garameno, Jiramondi, Sattisi, and Bartolo were the only ones in the dining room when she walked in. She cursed herself for not going by Melissande’s room on her way, but she’d been too hungry to make the detour.

Bartolo glared at her so hard that she almost turned tail and ran out, but then she summoned a radiant smile and marched right past him to the food laid out on the sideboard. No one spoke as she loaded her plate and sat down as far from the others as the table would allow. She tried not to feel self-conscious as she lifted her first forkful and started to chew.

“You’ve managed to work up an appetite, I see,” Garameno said in a level voice. “More than some of us have done.”

She took a sip of keerza to wash down the food. “If you find my presence irksome, you could advise the empress to send me home,” she responded politely. “I’m sure she’d listen to you. You have such influence with her.”

Bartolo snorted in disgust. “I suppose you find your food tastier when it’s seasoned with insults,” he said.

“It’s actually freedom that tastes best to me,” she shot back.

They all looked up hopefully when they heard footsteps coming down the hall, but when Steff stepped through the door, things didn’t improve. “Oh,” he said, clearly at a loss. “I thought everyone would be done with breakfast by now.”

“More examples of Welchin courtesy,” Jiramondi murmured.

“Well, the room usually
is
empty by now,” Steff said. He didn’t let the icy atmosphere prevent him from filling his plate and sitting across from Corene, and he didn’t let the audience prevent him from speaking his mind. “You should apologize to my grandmother. I can’t believe you said such things.”

“I won’t apologize. I should have said them sooner. Or
you
should have.”

He sent a quick glance up the table to where the other four were obviously listening. “Maybe she should have heard our suspicions about a murderer, but the other things? About her daughters? That was awful.”

Corene shrugged and ate a piece of buttered bread. “I guess I’m just an awful person.”

“That was my own conclusion,” Garameno said.

“She isn’t usually,” Steff said, unexpectedly firing up in Corene’s defense. “She just isn’t
careful
. But last night she was trying to be mean, and I don’t know why.”

Bartolo came to his feet and threw his napkin to the table. “Because she thinks cruelty is amusing,” he declared. “As only fools and children do.” And on that dramatic line, he stalked from the room. Sattisi scrambled to her feet and followed behind him.

Garameno backed his chair from the table and smoothly maneuvered it to the door. “I think you had an agenda,” he said quietly. “But I don’t think you’re about to share it.”

“I think I was pretty clear,” she said. “My agenda is to leave. If I’m unpleasant enough, I figure someone will help me go.”

“If you’re unpleasant enough, someone might confine you to your room,” Garameno said.

“Better than cutting my throat and throwing me down the back stairwell,” she said cheerfully.

Garameno gave no answer but a muted sound of disgust and wheeled himself through the door. “Wait!” Corene called. “Has there been any news of Alette?”

Garameno shook his head and kept going, so she looked over at Jiramondi. Who also shook his head.

“No,” he said, “and my aunt is most concerned.”

“I imagine she is! So I suppose she’s had servants check the empty rooms—and the tunnels below the palace—”

“And the kitchens and the servants’ rooms and the gardens and the mazes,” Jiramondi supplied. “I expect all the living quarters to be searched within the next nineday, in case someone thinks they are
helping
Alette by hiding her.”

“You can search my room anytime,” Corene said. “I’m not harboring her.”

“I didn’t mean you.”

Steff had been pretty focused on his food, but he looked up to find both of them watching him speculatively. “
I
don’t have her,” he exclaimed. “Servants are in and out of my room all the time! Ask them!”

“No, Greggorio seems more likely,” Jiramondi said on a sigh. “I imagine his room is among the first ones that Lorian had searched.”

Corene toyed with her food. “Is there any thought that she might have just
left
? Escaped the soldiers somehow and slipped out of the city?”

“I would wish that were the case, but it’s hard to see how,” Jiramondi replied. “And even if she got past the palace guards and the gate guards—where could she go? I don’t believe she has friends in the city, and there are few ships to give her passage out.”

Corene laid down her fork. “What will Filomara tell her father?”

Jiramondi offered her an unhappy smile. “I have no idea. My guess is she will wait until he
asks
about his daughter. Which he has not done lately due to the fact that the Berringese navy is blockading our harbor.”

“And due to the fact that he does not seem to feel much affection for any of his children,” Corene added. “But if he believes she has been harmed at your hands—or disappeared while under your care—he might have the excuse he needs to join this war.”

“You’re right!” Jiramondi replied, feigning astonishment. “I hadn’t
thought of that!” He came to his feet and gazed down at her for a moment. “How fortunate we are to have you here to point out all the things we otherwise might have missed.”

She stared back at him, unrepentant. “Send me home,” she said. “And bumble on in your own way without me.”

Jiramondi laughed and left the room without making any other answer. Corene stifled a sigh and turned her attention to Steff. “I don’t think Jiramondi likes me anymore.”

Steff shrugged and spoke casually through a mouthful of food. “You did something, didn’t you?”

It was a second before she registered that he had switched to Welchin and that his voice was too soft to carry beyond the edge of the table. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a look.
You know exactly what I mean.
“You’re not upset enough.”

She exhaled on the ghost of a laugh. “And here I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“I’m not because you’re not. And Liramelli’s not.”

“I’m trying to be. It’s hard to know how I would behave if—” She shrugged.

He swallowed a long gulp of keerza, glanced at the empty doorway, and said, “Is she safe?”

“I hope so. Hard to know for sure.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you ever do.”

“I will.”

“But you still shouldn’t have been so dreadful to Filomara last night.”

“Then they should let me go home.”

“This isn’t a good time for leaving the city. The blockade.”

“There must be some ships getting in and out,” she said. “I want to be on one of them.”

A shadow at the door pulled her attention that way a moment before Lorian stepped noiselessly inside. “The empress wants to see you,” he said in his formal way. “Both of you. Immediately.”

Steff crammed a last piece of bread in his mouth as he came to his feet. Corene summoned an uncaring, disdainful expression, but in truth she felt anxious. Filomara probably wanted to express her deep
displeasure over Corene’s display last night, and Corene didn’t imagine the experience would be enjoyable. She was glad Steff would be there—even if she did think he might take Filomara’s side.

Silently they followed Lorian down the halls to one of the formal receiving rooms on the second floor of the white wing. Corene took a quick look around as she stepped in, noting the usual plain furniture and severe colors; this was not a place designed to put a visitor at ease. The only bit of softness was supplied by the view of the gardens through the huge windows on the back wall. Corene squared her shoulders and turned to face the empress head-on.

And almost tumbled over in surprise when she realized there was a man standing next to Filomara—and she knew him.

“Nelson Ardelay!” she exclaimed, flying across the room to hug him. He laughed and met her halfway, collecting her in a hard embrace that drove the breath out of her body. “What are you
doing
here?”

“Looking for you, of course.”

Steff didn’t know any of the primes very well, but he knew enough to come over and offer a bow. “Good to see you,” he said.

“And good to see you!” Nelson replied. “How have you fared as the young prince practically returned from the dead?” As he spoke, he scanned Steff’s face for whatever he might read in its expression. Well, he was doing more than that, Corene knew. As the sweela prime, Nelson had a deep affinity with fire, but he also had an uncanny ability to know what other people were thinking. He claimed he couldn’t actually read minds, but it was hard to lie to him, hard to keep him from knowing how you really felt about something. Right now he was probably trying to assess how comfortable Steff was here at the Malinquese court, no matter what Steff might say.