“Bah, but that is neither here nor there now. The class is in place, and someone must teach it. You no doubt received the notice that the class has been put on hold indefinitely, but disrupting a class in the final semester is far from ideal. As I said, I want only the best and brightest on my staff. Who better to teach runelore at Prevan than a princess of the Moonrise Isles? Mam’selle Kayerba, I’m extending to you the very prestigious offer of employment as a professor at Prevan Academy.”

Yenni crossed her arms, cocked her head to the side, and smiled, then smiled wider, then burst out laughing.

“What on Byen’s hallowed soil can possibly be so funny?” blustered Mainard. He’d pushed his chest out, displaying his affront, and his face had gone splotchy red.

The smile quickly fled from Yenni’s face. “You insult my culture in one breath, calling runelore unfounded and anyone who shows interest in it eccentric, and tell me I am among the best and brightest in the next? I wonder—would you be so bold as to march up to your own castle and extend to one of the princesses of Cresh an offer to work under you?”

Mainard clutched nervously at his robes. “Erm, well, I mean to say . . . but Prevan is the most celebrated school in the world! Mam’selle Kayerba—”

“Your Highness,” said Yenni coolly. “Since my secret is out you may address me by my proper title.”

Mainard looked like he would rather bite out and swallow his own tongue, but he bowed his head. “Your Highness,” he said. “I meant no offense.”

“And yet you somehow always manage to give it,” said Yenni. “If I know nothing else, Professor Mainard, I know politics. And therefore I know exactly why you want me to teach your class. This is already a scandal for your school, and I doubt my royal family will take kindly to the fact that someone attempted to kill me, serious or not. You need my forgiveness, and my endorsement. You need to control the damage to Prevan’s image. But what you also need is to understand that I am a princess of the Yirba, and I am not your tool.

“You are right about one thing, however. The class needs to be taught, and by someone who knows how to teach it properly. So, I am willing to become your new professor under two conditions. The first is that you give me a real office and classroom—nothing like that forsaken dungeon where you stowed Devon—plus pay me triple Devon’s wages.”

Mainard stared at her, stone faced, for quite some time. “Triple,” he said at last, his voice flat.

“Yes, my wage, and one additional equivalent wage for each attempt on my life.”

“I see. And the second condition?”