A faint shudder moved across the frail shoulders, and she drew her gown more closely around her, as if against a sudden chill.

She had never had a man killed before—even a Deryni.

NIGEL yanked impatiently at the brocaded bell pull outside the queen’s apartments for the fifth time, anger beginning to flash in his gray eyes. He felt a tirade coming on. And whatever good humor he had gained by his short talk with Alaric was fast dwindling away.

If someone didn’t open that door in about three seconds, he was going to—

He had just raised his hand to pull the cord yet again when he heard a soft rustling behind the door. He stepped back a pace as a small peephole opened in the door at eye level and a brown eye peered timidly through the opening.

“Who is that?” Nigel demanded, putting his eye to the hole and looking back through.

The brown eye retreated, and then Nigel could see a servant girl backing off from the door, her mouth frozen in a silent O.

“Young woman, if you don’t open this door immediately, I’ll kick it down, so help me!”

The girl’s eyes widened even farther as she recognized the voice, and then she moved to obey. Nigel heard the bolt slide back and saw the heavy door begin to move. Without hesitation, he pushed it open the rest of the way and swept into the room.

“Where is the queen?” he demanded, his practiced eye taking in every detail as he scanned the chamber. “In the garden?”

As he completed his visual circuit, he whirled abruptly and grabbed the frightened girl by the arm, shook her slightly as he glared down with those gray Haldane eyes.

“Well? Speak up, child. I won’t bite you.”

The girl winced and tried to pull away. “P-please, Your Highness,” she stammered. “You’re hurting me.”

Nigel loosened his grip but did not release the girl. “I’m waiting,” he said impatiently.

“She’s in—in the sun room, Your Highness,” the girl whispered, eyes downcast.

With a nod of satisfaction, Nigel released her and stalked across the chamber to the arched entrance to the royal gardens. The sun room, he knew, adjoined the queen’s apartments at one end, but it was also accessible from the garden.

He strode quickly down the short, gravelled path toward the garden entrance, then stopped before a black wrought-iron gate twined with living roses. Reaching for the latch, he peered through the thick foliage to the chamber beyond.

Inside, Queen Jehana looked up in mild surprise as the frightened servant came running through the entrance. As the girl bent to whisper urgently to her mistress, Jehana lowered the single rose she had been contemplating and looked expectantly toward the gate where Nigel watched.