Just as with her newfound appreciation for embraces, her father was revealing a different side of his personality. The fact that he had one was the first shock. In the past, Nyrian had demonstrated the emotional range of a fence post with the quirky unpredictability of night following day. Farilane was still struggling to leap that hurdle, and she wasn’t ready to fathom the source of his displeasure. In many ways, he appeared angry with being angry.

Nyrian gave a frustrated glance toward the open door of the throne room, and with that clue, Farilane understood. He’s emperor now—at least he will be once they clamp that crown on his head. By dying, Estermon had dropped a massive stone boulder in Nyrian’s arms, one not allowed to touch the ground. He’s trying to get a grip.

“Does anyone know how that unpleasant Fhrey got into the palace?” Nordyan asked, coming to her rescue, their father’s, or both.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Kolby said. “We found honor guards Maddock Jameson’s and Arturus Brushwick’s bodies along the pathway between the Teshlor Guildhall and the river. Their throats were slit.”

“How is that possible? They were knights.”

“We found them mostly submerged in stone, as if the pavement had turned liquid and then solid once more. They were trapped—helpless.”

“Mawyndulë killed them,” Farilane said, “then he made himself look like Arturus, and Sheldon Faust like Maddock. When they reported to their posts, as they did every morning, I suppose they just walked into the throne room.” Farilane looked around at the crowd. “But where was everyone? This corridor—the whole palace—was vacant.”

“That was the First—” Her father stopped himself. “That was Dray’s doing.” He dragged out the name as if it were a vulgar word.

“I ordered everyone out,” Dray responded in his measured tone. “Sent the knights to secure the imperial family. Farilane went the wrong way.” He shifted his attention to Kolby, his eyes asking for an explanation.

The knight glared back. “Estermon the Second is also a member of the imperial family, is he not? Protecting the emperor should have been our highest priority—besides, she’s fast.”

“It’s done,” Nyrian declared with a cutting motion of his arm, ending the debate before it started. He was the acting emperor now, though the informality of the conversation suggested the new reality had yet to sink in. Such a free-for-all discussion would never have been tolerated in the presence of either Estermon. That Nyrian had allowed it, proved that he was also struggling with the new normal.

“I still don’t understand what happened,” Nyrian said. He glanced at Dray, the shape of his lips soured, then he promptly turned to face his daughter instead. “How did Dray replace you?”