Meanwhile she made up for the absence of both of them by trying to be everywhere at once.

She was shorting herself of sleep to do so, and still felt there was much she wasn’t doing. But there was just so much work; Selenay had asked her to take on the interviews of petitioners from the flooded areas, Devan needed her with three profoundly depressed patients, and there were all those quarrels among the Councillors.

It was with heartfelt gratitude that she found the sessions with Destria going well; Vostel’s arrival put the cap on their success. It was plain to Talia that his reaction to Destria’s appearance comforted her immensely. It helped that he regarded her scars as badges of honor and told her so in as many words. And as Rynee had thought, he was of tremendous aid when they began Destria’s rehabilitative therapy—for he had gone through all this himself. He coaxed her when she faltered, bolstered her courage when it ran out, goaded her when she turned sulky, and held her when she wept with pain. He was doing so much for her that she needed Talia’s Gift less with every day.

Which was just as well, for Selenay needed it the more. As soon as one crisis was solved, another sprang up like a noxious weed, and Selenay’s resources were wearing thin. And when some of the choices she made turned out to be the wrong ones—as, soon or late, happened—Tatia found herself exercising her good sense and Gift to the utmost.

A drenched and mud-splattered messenger from Herald Patris stood before the Council; when the door-Guard had learned his news, he’d interrupted the session to bring him there himself.

“Majesty,” the man said, with a blank expression that Talia found very disconcerting, and which made her very uneasy, “Herald Patris sends this to tell you that the outlaws are no more.”

He held out a sealed message pouch as those at the Council board erupted in cheers and congratulations. Only the Queen, Kyril, and Selenay did not join in the rejoicing. There was something about the messenger’s expression that told them there was much he had not said.

Selenay opened the message and scanned it, the blood draining from her face as she did so.

“Goddess—the parchment sheet fell from her nerveless fingers, and Talia caught it. The Queen covered her face with trembling hands, as the tumult around the Council table died into absolute silence.

Her Councillors stared at their monarch, and at an equally pale Queen’s Own, as Talia read Patris’ grim words in a voice that shook.