“Am I going to have to testify?” Abi asked.

“No,” her mother and father both answered at once. Mags nodded to his wife, who took up the tale. “No, because we have the reported goods that were stolen in the report of the Watch, and the goods were found in the possession of his underling. He was found in the tent, and, providentially, your purse is the one his underling chose to give him his ill-gotten gains in, and that was on his person when he was arrested. He’s not going to be able to squirm out of this, although he’s trying every trick he can think of.” She frowned. “The jury pool is dismayingly small.”

“Add th’ Queen’s Handmaidens?” Mags suggested. “They’re all highborn. They should qualify, aye?”

“I’ll suggest it. But what should have been simple has been overcomplicated by all the strings he’s trying to pull. Virtually every bit of Court business today was hearing and dismissing petitions from his debtors.”

But what Abi was thinking about was not the trial—it was how Fenris Remp’s inevitable incarceration was going to free his son to do pretty much anything he wanted to do—at least, outside the walls of the Palace. She’d heard he held grudges, and he certainly had a powerful one against her. She was going to have to tread very carefully. Legally, he was old enough to completely take over his father’s estate and wealth, and that meant he’d have plenty of money at his disposal. From this moment on, she was going to have to watch what she said and did even more carefully than she usually did. Just in case.

Then again, he still has no idea what kind of person he’s up against.

A person—for instance—who had plenty of backing.

She waited until there was a lull in the conversation. “Is Dudley Remp likely to take over for his father, or is Remp’s wife?”

Amily frowned again. “Mari Remp is a nonentity. It will probably all fall into Dudley’s hands. He’s old enough by Valdemaran law. Why?”

But Mags got it immediately. “Because th’ young barstard ’as a powerful grudge ’gainst Abi, love. She humiliated ’im, broke ’is finger, an’ got ’im tossed outa the Blues.”

“And he holds grudges, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn he has his own fingers in a lot of dirty pies,” Abi said frankly.

Mags pondered this a moment. “Whatever ye do, make sure ye got witnesses. If’n anybody starts accusin’ ye of anything, demand Truth Spell; yer Mama an’ I’ll be willin’ to put it on ye anytime, any place. But what I think ’e’s like to do is get ye thrown outa the Blues, like ’e was. An’ I jest had a notion for that.” He chuckled. “I’ll be havin’ a word with yer teachers.”

“How can you—?” Because she knew exactly what her father was talking about. The likeliest thing was that Dudley would set things up to make it look as if she’d cheated. And how could her father prevent that?