“But, anyway. The Emperor,” Merrin went on. “I argued your worth, and instead of being carted away still Blinded, you were given a Barony. Grudgingly. So it came to this—I want—that the real power in the Duchy remains with you, which I will . . . assuming . . .” He trailed off.

“Assuming that the Emperor’s plan isn’t to strip the Duchy once you’re in the saddle,” Kordas said bitterly. “Which it probably is. Nobody would be given a title unless there was a demand in return. The Emperor wouldn’t make you a Duke unless he expected you to strip Valdemar bare to prove your loyalty to the Empire and its war. And most especially to him.”

Merrin’s eyes narrowed and he cocked his head. “You don’t sound like a bumpkin right now.”

“You have no idea what I am,” Kordas replied in an ominous tone. His tone wasn’t by mistake. His expression was hard-jawed and stormy now, like the shirt revealed as he began unbuttoning his jacket and waistcoat at the top. “Star, have Beltran meet us at the Record Keeper’s desk. Now.”

—

“What is known of the Imperial Office is this,” the Record Keeper showed them on an architectural plot. “The receiving area is divided from the desk by a barrier impervious to all but air and sound. The eastern wall has a door from the Petitioner’s Position and one from the Conquest Throne. The western wall has a Gate for egress from the receiving area, and another—on the other side of the barrier—for the Emperor. He generally only uses it to retire to the Imperial bedchamber. The floor is extra thick wool carpeting, and the Emperor’s side is walled in trophy cases and prizes of war.”

Kordas traced fingers across the barrier line. “Can Dolls pass through this?”

“No, my Lord,” the Record Keeper answered, “but this one gathers your intentions by the nature of your questions. This one finds itself not disapproving.”

Merrin had been seated for some time, while Beltran told him an abbreviated explanation of the Plan. As Kordas put it, now Merrin was in the Plan up to his neck, so he had the choice of being an ally or being found dead in a canal—granted at least that much mercy. Something in Kordas’s tone made Merrin acquiesce immediately.

“And the talismans you gave us to pass through Gates only Dolls could use—will they take us through here?” He tapped on the drawing.

“Yes, my Lord,” the Record Keeper replied. “This one recommends you not move directly there from the receiving area, as the destination command might be overheard.”

“Agreed. We’ll need one more Doll pass talisman, then.” Kordas turned part way around to look sharply into Merrin’s eyes. “Are you with me? Completely?”