If there was one thing that Delia was certain of, it was that Isla was seriously angry with her husband for agreeing to try to save the hostages and the Dolls. Delia could understand her point. These were more complications in a plan that was already far too complicated and dangerous, and it was a complication that was guaranteed to make the Emperor furious with them. At one stroke he’d be deprived of all of his servants and his hostages, and Delia very much doubted that the “who” of the question would be a secret much past the moment when he discovered that Valdemar had been stripped of its most valuable resources and that its Duke and his family had vanished with those resources.

On the other hand . . . if she was in his place, she didn’t think she’d be able to resist trying to save them either.

Well, Isla is like Father was. She’ll be angry, and she’ll give him a very long piece of her mind when they are back together and safe, but for now, what’s done is done, and she’ll change the Plan to adapt to it.

Isla took several long and deep breaths to calm herself, closing her eyes tightly and clenching and unclenching her hands on the tabletop. “My husband,” she said, opening her eyes, “is an idiot. Gallant, chivalrous, and an idiot.” She put the scrying glass flat on the table and stood up. “I need to go tell my maid to take the day off, then we’ll make our way back here by way of the kitchen. The mages are probably gathering by now to go build those Gates.”

Delia just nodded. The one thing that she was certain of was that Kordas wouldn’t intentionally do anything that would put the rest of them in jeopardy. Himself, certainly, but not the rest of them. So no matter what he’d said, he wouldn’t actually do anything until he was sure they were safely out of harm’s way.

Right?

She hurried after Isla, who, mindful of the fact that someone might be watching at this moment, took an intricate route back to her own rooms to wake her maid, who was to all intents and purposes as identical to her mistress as any bundle of bedclothes would be.

“I feel ever so much better, milady—” the girl said, when Isla woke her.