“And how did you fare in Nanta, Master Atre?” she asked. “I suppose you had your own theater?”

“We did, my lady, until the soldiers burned it to the ground. As you can see, we lost everything. Four of our players were killed. The rest of us barely escaped.”

“I hope our contributions tonight help you. I look forward to seeing more of your performances.”

Atre took her proffered hand and kissed it reverently. “You will always have a place of honor in our theater, my lady.”

“That was a more expensive evening than I’d anticipated,” Seregil murmured, pretending to be piqued as they took their leave of Malthus and his wife, and followed Kylith and Ysmay out to find their carriage. “I think, between us, we gave him enough to buy the wretched place.”

“You can certainly afford it,” Kylith said with a laugh. “And admit it, you were transfixed.”

“They were very good,” said Alec.

Seregil glanced around as they waited for the carriage to make its way to them through the departing crowd. There wasn’t a link boy in sight, what street lanterns there were in this part of town were only sporadically lit, and the hazy gold half-moon didn’t cast much light. Emboldened, a knot of ne’er-do-wells lurked on a nearby dark corner like wolves waiting to pick off stragglers from the herd. Their numbers had increased over the summer—thieves, footpads, even gate runners emerging from their sewer kingdoms at night—and they were becoming more brazen. It was getting to be an annoyance.

The carriage rumbled up at last. The page followed behind, leading Cynril and Windrunner. The footman jumped down and held the carriage door open for his mistresses. Kylith held out her hand to Alec and Seregil.

“Are you sure you two won’t join us at Duke Laneus’s for supper? He’ll be so disappointed. He’s been wanting to meet the handsome young men I talk so much about.”

“Please give him our regrets,” Seregil replied, kissing her cheek. “We have a long journey tomorrow.”

“But we’ll see you all at my party in a few weeks, won’t we?” asked Alec, kissing her good-bye.

“I hope before that!” she exclaimed. “Perhaps you could ask Atre and his players to be part of the entertainment.”

Seregil laughed. “So you’re already their patron?”

She settled back on the velvet seat and winked at him. “I know talent when I see it. Perhaps not all of them, but that fellow Atre, at least, could go far in this city.”

Mounting their horses, he and Alec rode beside the carriage down the Street of the Sheaf, the broad thoroughfare that bisected the city, and bade her and her party good night at Merchant Circle. The carriage continued on into the Noble Quarter while Seregil and Alec made their way toward the Orëska House.