Isana grimaced. Then she lifted her chin, Aquitaine’s strong, appealing face appearing in her mind’s eye, and told Veradis, “Should Aquitaine become First Lord, he would be well-advised to choose his battles—and his enemies—with great care.”

Veradis stared at her intently, then slowly shook her head.

Isana tilted her chin to one side, frowning inquisitively.

“My father used to speak to me often of the nature of power,” Veradis said. “One of the things he often lamented was that the only folk truly worthy to hold it were those who did not seek it.”

Isana frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Veradis smiled, and for a moment there was nothing solemn or sad in her face. Isana was struck by the young woman’s delicate beauty. “I know you don’t,” she said. “Thus proving my father’s point.” She bowed her head, a stately and formal gesture, and said, “I will abide by your wishes, my lady.”

Isana was about to reply when there was a quick rap at the door, and Araris leaned inside. “My lady,” he murmured, bowing his head, “you have a visitor.”

Isana arched an eyebrow as she turned toward the door and smoothed her dress. Whatever the Senate decided, they would send a representative to bring her before them—but her senses told her that Araris’s usual steady calm was shaken to one degree or another. The Senate’s choice in escorts would say much about the outcome of the debate.

“Thank you, Araris. Please send him in.”

Isana wasn’t sure whom she had been expecting, but Aquitainus Attis hadn’t been featured on her mental list. The High Lord entered, resplendent in scarlet and black, though he had affixed the official Crown heraldry for the House of Gaius, the scarlet-and-azure eagle, to his tunic’s breast. His dark golden hair was immaculate, even weighted down by the slender steel circlet of the Aleran crown, and his dark eyes were as intense and focused as every other time Isana had seen the man.

Aquitaine bowed his head politely, if very slightly. “Lady,” he murmured.

“Lord Aquitaine,” Isana replied, holding her tone to neutrality. “What an unexpected...” She smiled, faintly. “. . . visit.”

“The timing was important. With all the Senators in chambers, their informants are neglecting their duties. I would speak with you alone if you are willing.”

“You are a married man, sir,” Isana replied, with no trace of accusation anywhere in the phrase. It was considerably more damning that way, she thought. “I think it would be highly inappropriate.”

“In truth,” Aquitaine replied, “I have already certified my divorce from Invidia, effective as of today.”

“What a terrible burden has been lifted from your shoulders,” Isana said.

Aquitaine inhaled slowly, through his nose, and exhaled the same way. Isana felt the faintest trace of frustration from the man. It was rapidly walled away behind a metalcrafting.

“I would prefer,” Aquitaine said, “to have this discussion privately.”