Shall I tell you what secrets I sensed in that pretty blond head of his?

Rielle fled to the hallway to join her guard, Tal’s kiss imprinted on her hand and a foreign bramble taking root in her gut. “Evyline?”

The woman stared straight ahead at the wall, flanked by two other members of the Sun Guard. “Yes, my lady.”

“It appears we’ve been summoned.”

“It appears so, my lady,” Evyline said stiffly.

As they began walking, Rielle glanced sidelong at the head of her guard. “For how long will you be angry with me, Evyline?”

Evyline relented slightly. “I estimate for only a day or two longer, my lady.”

Rielle grinned, relief loosening her shoulders. A few more exchanges with Evyline, and she would shake off her strange meeting with Tal like old feathers. “Quite right, Evyline. That seems only fair.”

• • •

Rielle approached Queen Genoveve’s sitting room with no small amount of trepidation, for she could hear raised voices from all the way down the corridor—the queen’s, and Audric’s.

She stopped at the sitting room doors, which were thick enough to muffle the queen’s words, if not their vicious sentiment.

Evyline cleared her throat. “I don’t think staring at the doors will make the shouting stop, my lady.”

Rielle rolled her eyes. “I wonder if your tendency for insubordination will ever lose its charm, Evyline.”

“Unlikely, my lady,” said Evyline mildly, “for I have had an excellent tutor.”

Rielle swallowed a smile, took a deep breath, and pushed open the doors.

Queen Genoveve turned at once. “I marvel, Lady Rielle, at the length of time required for you to travel here from the Pyre, all those many miles away.”

Rielle was too startled to reply. In the weeks since leaving for their tour of Celdaria, the queen’s appearance had drastically altered—her cheeks hollowed, her mouth thin and pale, her once meticulously groomed auburn waves now flying tangled about her head. She was still lovely, in the dramatic Sauvillier fashion, but there was a thorny quality to her now, a brittle energy, that spoke of sleepless nights and restless, unsatisfied days.

Rielle bowed low, her travel-muddied skirts gathering stiffly on the rug. “Forgive me, my queen. I came as quickly as I was able.”

Genoveve gestured irritably. “You’re getting mud on my carpet. Next time you come before me, make sure you change into something suitable first.”

With great effort, Rielle refrained from commenting that if she had taken the time to find clean clothes, she would have been even later to their meeting. “Yes, my queen. Of course.”

Audric, his expression grim, helped Rielle to her feet. He gently pressed her palm; she squeezed back, grateful. She was not unaware of Genoveve’s sharp eyes upon their joined hands.

“I was just telling Mother about our time in Borsvall, and in the Sunderlands,” Audric began, his voice carefully even. “And about our conversations with Jodoc Indarien.”

“Yes,” Genoveve interrupted, “and I would like to hear your version of events, Lady Rielle, before we proceed.”

With that, the queen sat on a nearby divan, settled her arms on the cushions, and crossed one leg over the other.

Rielle glanced at Audric, uncertain.

“I’m waiting, Lady Rielle,” said the queen. “We’ve all been waiting, thanks to your impetuousness. While I, and the rest of the country, grieved our king’s death, you dragged his son and heir off to an enemy territory, with no regard for his safety or for our traditions of mourning.”

“Mother, as I’ve told you,” Audric said sharply, “it wasn’t Rielle who urged us to leave Carduel. It was me, and Ludivine.”

“There was an incident during our stay in Carduel,” added Rielle, “involving four men who attempted to kill me.”

She pushed on before the queen could interrupt and told the whole story—from Carduel to the abandoned village on the outskirts of Styrdalleen. The tidal wave, and finally the Sunderlands.

“We were hoping, my queen,” Rielle said, glancing at Audric, “that you would have information about where Saint Katell’s casting might be located, or how to approach the Celdarian Obex about—”

“Absolutely not.” Genoveve moved to a small table, where a spread of tea and cakes sat on gold-rimmed platters. “Jodoc Indarien was right when he told you that you should have to find these castings on your own, without aid. To be frank with you, Lady Rielle, I’m not sure that even then you would deserve to possess them.”

Audric’s voice cut the air like a taut wire. “Mother, you’re not listening to us. The Gate is falling.”

Genoveve turned her back on them to fill her cup. “I’m well aware that the Gate is falling.”

“Then you must also be aware,” Rielle said, stepping toward her, “that I am the best hope we have of mending it.”

The queen laughed. “That’s rich, Lady Rielle, as you’ve just told me how you in fact have weakened it.”

Rielle swallowed an assortment of uncouth replies. “Yes, my queen. I was rash, and frantic. I acted too quickly, and I don’t intend to do so again, now that I understand the true might of the Gate.”

“And you have, of course, never given any of us reason to mistrust you,” said the queen, taking a sip of her tea.

“No other human is powerful enough to repair the Gate, my queen,” Rielle insisted. “No other hundred humans are powerful enough. I must find the castings of the saints as quickly as possible.” She hesitated, then steeled herself. “Is your personal grudge against me worth sacrificing the safety of your entire kingdom?”

Rielle sensed Audric moving slightly toward her, as if preparing to jump to her defense, but Rielle kept her eyes fixed on the queen. Genoveve took a final sip of her tea before returning her cup to its saucer.

“Personal grudge?” she said quietly. “How small a thing you make it sound. My beloved niece was betrothed to my only son and heir, an arrangement engineered by my family, and the family of my late husband, when Ludivine was a mere infant. For years, this agreement defined the relationship of our two houses. It established a bright future, for our families and for the country. The House of Katell bonded with the second most powerful House in the realm.”

The queen turned, her eyes cold and terrible, outlined by shadows of grief. “And then you seduce my son, tempting him into your bed like some common street whore, and throw everything into ruin.”

Audric’s voice came low and furious. “Mother, you will apologize to Rielle right now.”