The Lady considered. “The Second Empress’s son. She’s dead. Murdered, they say, when he was a child.”
“It took a long time for him to be Gated,” I said.
“Because, unlike the other Gated princes, he had no support in the palace once his mother was dead. The Southern Prince—the one they call the ‘Golden Prince’—is the Crown Prince. He’s the son of the Emperor Eternal’s First Empress. She’s also dead, but from a wealthy and expansive family. The Eastern Prince is the son of the current Empress Eternal—his third wife. The Northern Prince is the son of the Emperor Eternal’s currentmistress.” She said the word like it was a personal affront, then made tiny adjustments to the items on her desk as if to reassert control over the world. “The point is, the others have connections.” Her gaze sharpened. “Does he have more work for you?”
“No,” I said. “Our work for him is done.”
If she heard the bite in my voice, she didn’t comment on it. “Says who?”
“The prince. Because of the danger.”
“Well, that’s a disappointment.” She meant the money, not the danger. “But I anticipated he might get tired of playing with servants, so I arranged work for you tomorrow. Laundry at the Orchid House.”
The parlor where beautiful courtesans danced and did whatever else their clients might pay for. Gods knew I didn’t want to scrub sweetwine out of fancy dresses. But we wouldn’t be noticed. We’d be safe. And I’d already brought enough trouble to Wren.
“Understood,” I said, and we left her to her plotting.
I picked at the dinner Nheve had offered us: bits of meat—probably left over from the Lady’s meal—with barley and some small early carrots. I wasn’t in the mood for food. I was in the mood to kick something but didn’t have the energy for it.
Luna waited beneath the pangan tree. She pointed over the wall, then disappeared. As instructed, we climbed the wall and checked for the curfew patrol. When we were sure the road was clear, we crossed it and squeezed into a narrow gap between walled manors, safe from prying ears and eyes.
She looked fainter today, even more translucent than usual. Because she was saving her energy, or because saving the prince had required her to use too much?
“Are you all right?” I asked. “You look…faded.”
“I have been busy,” she signed.
“Thank you again for intervening. For saving the prince.”
“He told you he was a guard?”
I nodded. “I shouldn’t be surprised, either by the lie or the need for it. But I ignored the signs.”
“I imagine he is well practiced at lying.”
I nodded. “I’m lucky you heard me call you, and I’m sorry I put you in that position. I was desperate.”
“I kept an eye on you, and I intervened today because you asked it of me. But he is not your friend or your ally.”
“The practitioner is our enemy,” I corrected her. “I know the prince isn’t an ally.” But despite what I’d told him, I didn’t think he was quite an enemy, either.
“Why do you hate the Lys’Careths so much?” Wren asked her. “I’m no fan, and I think you dislike them more than me.”
“Because they are deadly. There are too many in the Aetheric who have been put there by Lys’Careth hands.”
It was hard to argue with that, although theirs wasn’t the only family who used violence as a tool. The world was full of killers, and everyone died eventually.
Luna shifted her gaze to me. “You put yourself in danger again.”
“Because there might have been useful information in Vhrania about the practitioner.”
“Was there?”
“There haven’t been similar attacks in Vhrania. And the Emperor Eternal is going to give the Eastern Prince control of the Eastern Army.”
Her eyes widened. “This is reliable?”
“It’s thirdhand at best,” Wren said. “From a contact of a Zephyrii.”
