In the morning, Ladies sit around me, sipping hot sugar-water from their tea cups. No one mentions it's not tea.

I'm surprised I haven't yet felt the spell I cast on Alaar snap. It's been two weeks since I woke against the wall and stumbled back to my room in the shadowy dawn. The spell should be dragging on him, making him want to kill those shade-cursed shamans, but he has the will and wit of the Shadesnare himself—maybe he'll manage to hold off killing himself till the last second. A nasty bit of backlash that'll be for me, but it's worth it.

I daydream of blood and severed heads as the women around me chat. Whenever Alaar does finish, it's looking like I'll have a nice life here. Not long after offering High Lady Solitaena my insight on the Kadranians, she invited me to watch from the stands of nobility for future Auditorium meetings. Yes, these women seem to have quite nicely accepted me as one of them. I smile at the gossipers.

"—wedding was beautiful for being so rushed, don't you think?" High Lady Misanette says.

"Oh, Missí." A lower-tier Lady laughs. "You only say that because you organized it."

Misanette goes red. "No, no." The other Ladies chuckle as well. "I wasn't even in charge of this event. I just reminded Lady Osennia that the Second Son likes the chrysanthemums better than the holly."

I smile at her. "And I'm sure he would have been devastated if it hadn't been right."

Now even Misanette laughs. Everyone's in good spirits after the victory the day before yesterday. The reinforcements are near and the Retrans are coming.

Lady Osennia, the daughter of High Lady Riletta, grabs my wrist. "Did you see how beautiful the Princesse Consort was in one of our dresses?"

Gushing agreement rounds the room. Then the girl across from me says, "But did you see how pale the Prince was?"

Osennia pouts sympathetically. "He nearly looked sick."

The girl across from me continues, "And he fairly ran out of the final dance."

Hums of well-meaning, curious agreement.

My ankles cross. "You don't think he's catching ill, do you?"

Emmine, the woman that mocked Misanette, says, "I'm sure the boy was just nervous. My Alféndi nearly lost it right before our marriage just because his servants couldn't find the mate to the socks he wanted to wear." She laughs, but I'm already bored with her speech. "Sometimes in a big event like that, even something tiny can push us over the edge. For getting married so spur of the moment, I thought he composed himself rather well."

I wonder how Alaar is going to do it. Will he sneak into their tents one night and slit their throats? Will he get one of his precious little shades to fool the shamans into hurting themselves? Will he convince the Kadranians to execute them? The endless possibilities thrill me.

"Oh!" the girl across from me exclaims. "Did you hear about the Princesse Consort?"

Everyone leans in, but my mind is still on the various ways to kill a shaman. I don't live for gossip like these simpletons.

Her voice is low. "They say someone tried to assassinate her last night, when she got to her bedroom."

"My stars," Misanette says. "Why would someone do that?"

"That's awful," Osennia says. "There's already been so much death."

"I don't know," the girl replies, "but you'll know which room is theirs when walking down that hall—those women don't move an inch from her door."

"I think it's just so... disheartening," Emmine settles on, "how they make their women be guards."

"It is a little strange," the girl says. "She lectures the court on honor, but do they not have enough honor to keep their women out of such ugly work?"

Misanette frowns. "I think it's very brave."

Emmine spins toward her, and I wonder how the other girls would react if the woman's eyes actually did pop out of her head, instead of just looking like they might. "It's brave to demean oneself by offering to spill blood?"

Misanette sits straighter. "It's brave to give one's all to her country. And the Lieutenants are trained for battle."

The woman waves her hand, and even with how lax this group is about formality, I'm surprised Misanette lets her get away with it. "Everyone knows the Lieutenants aren't going into battle. They're trained so they can direct aggressive men."

I smile politely. "Maybe that's why the Princesse Consort gave her lecture." I turn to Osennia. "Your nails are so pretty. Where were you able to find that color?"

Osennia smiles back and prattles on about where the color is imported from. When the 'tea' is over, I wander through the halls. Someone decided to kill Aster's little wife.

Maybe they thought if she died, the Retrans would call off their army.

I stop dead in my tracks. Why would the shamans let their wildcard be the only person they had on the inside? No—I was just supposed to be the scapegoat if something went wrong. They had a role planned for me, but I don't think it was the main one.

Last night's assassin could be some radical, but more likely, they were the second me, taking orders from someone else who still lurks in the shadows. And as long as that person lives, all of the Morineause's plans will be flown to the Kadranians on ravens' wings.

I change course, heading for the Mage Room as ideas roll through my head like words over my tongue. When I get there, a wizard stands in front of the door.

"Is the Prince here?" I ask.

She nods. "What can I do for you?"

"Please tell him that as soon as he's available, Lady Idielle needs to speak with him."

She nods. "Yes, milady." She unlocks the door and calls inside without taking her eyes off me. "Someone's letting him know."

I nod and wait. Another girl comes to the door. "He said he'll meet with you in an hour." She tells me what sitting room, then proffers a note and a coin. "Could you also take this to a page?"

I agree and accept it. Once I'm a hallway away, I inspect it. It's unsealed, and disappointed, I realize it's just a message to his manservant to arrange a room for us. I hand it off.

In the time between, I gather ideas.

* * *

Aster looks tired as he slides into the seat across from me. Even though he's here nearly ten minutes early, I was already waiting for him. I didn't have anywhere better to be.

"What is it, Idielle?" The name has a caustic ring.

I glance at his servant and another girl against the wall. I suppose I should have expected it, but neither of them need to hear what I have to say. I look back at him pointedly.

He frowns. The room is large, with plenty space for at least five other groups to be meeting like this, and it has two, open entrances. He looks to the servants. "Thank you for your help. Please leave the doors open."

Considering his marriage and his recent reputation, I doubt they considered closing them. They leave, and I smile at him. "There, now, that's better, isn't it?"

His expression doesn't lighten. "What do you need to talk about, Idyne? I have better things to do than bandy words with you."

"I hope you know that whoever attacked your wife wasn't acting alone."

His arms cross. "And you know so much about the attack how?"

"People talk, Aster. And I know how the Kadranians work."

He leans against the table. "You never did explain how you knew so much about them."

My eyes roll exaggeratedly. "Do I have to spell everything out for you? I ran away and joined your team." I flash a grin. "You should be ecstatic."

"Thrilled."

The smile drops. "At least I'm not working against you."

His sarcasm flicks into disquiet, but then his face stones over again. "What do you want, Idyne? Are the shamans dead?"

I frown. "Not yet. But they will be soon. No, I'm here to talk about your traitor."

He watches me.

"She's going to be someone in position, or that can at least listen in on your little court meetings."

"Auditorium."

"I know." Does he think I don't listen at all? "So the Kadranians know your reinforcements are coming, and they know the Retrans are coming."

"What of it?" Irritation sharpens his tone, but I figure it's not really because of me.

I lean forward. "If they were afraid of that, then they would leave."

Our gazes lock, and he regards me, expression tight and wary.

"You need a better plan than wait and see."

"We have one," he growls.

"Really? Because last time you lot came up with a plan other than wait and see, you got yourselves killed."

His palm slams the table, his words almost too low to hear. "That was not my fault."

My hands come up defensively. "Okay, then. But if some of you were able to sneak into their camp and cut their leaders out of the problem, then they would break up. There's a clear order of succession in this army—the shamans didn't let them set out until everyone knew where the top men stood in line so they wouldn't squabble should one of them die." I readjust in my seat. For castle furniture, they could have come up with something better to put in this room than simple wooden chairs.

"Someone's getting spoiled," the voices say. My lips twitch with their humor.

"If you can off all of them, though," I say, twisting my hair, "the soldiers won't know what they're doing or who to turn to. Parts will break off just because they don't have orders, and the rest will run themselves to the ground fighting to lead the rabble that's left."

"Let me get this straight." He leans on his forearms. "You want me to send someone in on their own to kill these men in the dead of night, and if I do that, then their army will just magically dissipate?"

Deadpan, I say, "No, they hate magic." He glares, and I break out in a grin. "It's the continued death and injury of your men on the wall or the chance of death of one or two men. It's completely your choice."

"You don't know anything about war, Idyne. When have you been in a siege before?"

I laugh. "When have you?"

His head shakes, annoyance dark on his haggard face. "The reinforcements and Retrans are coming. The Kadranians can fail to see the danger of that all they like. It's too dangerous to send men in for a cockamamie plan we're not even sure will work."

Indignation sparks. "I'm sure!"

He stands up. "Was there anything else, Maedame Strategist?"

I huff and push up. "You're being a stuck-up idiot."

"Goodbye, Lady Idielle." He turns and walks out.