The ragpicker turned to find a gnarled little man with a shock of unruly black hair and a crooked smile approaching, seemingly out of nowhere. There was something dangerous about him, and the ragpicker sensed it right away. He was certain he could dispose of him, that the little man was no match for him. But there was every chance the effort would draw attention, and he did not want that.

“Can I help with something, Aislinne?” the man called Brickey asked, never taking his eyes off her visitor.

The ragpicker bowed to Aislinne Kray. “I have overstayed my welcome. I apologize. I am sure I can find what I need somewhere else. Good day.”

Without a glance for either the little man or Aislinne Kray, the ragpicker turned and walked away. He could feel the woman’s eyes on his back, and it made him smile. She might not realize it, but his business with her was far from finished.

He would be back to see her later.

Chapter Fourteen

SKEAL EILE SAT ON A COUCH IN A TINY RECEIVING room in the Amarantyne Palace, awaiting the appearance of Isoeld Severine, although his patience was growing decidedly thin. He had arrived an hour earlier—coming to a rear door of the building, as instructed—only to find a solitary Home Guard waiting to receive him. Without so much as a word of greeting, the Home Guard had taken him through various corridors to this room, deposited him inside, and left him to whatever solitary pursuits he could manage to invent.

The Seraphic had not expected that the recently widowed Queen of the Elves would greet him with crowds of admirers chanting his name or baskets of flowers strewn on the front walkway as he entered, but he had expected better treatment than this. He had assumed the Queen would be better prepared for the tumult that followed the King’s assassination and the incarceration of his daughter for the murder, but it appeared he was mistaken. Isoeld Severine had adopted a fortress mentality right from the start, closing off contact with all but a few trusted advisers and her heavily armed personal guard. Aside from Teonette—though Eile assumed he might be mistaken about this, too—no one had been given access to her.

She had addressed the High Council right after the King’s demise, and he was told that she had handled herself well in that situation. She had spoken eloquently of her husband’s service and her intention to see to it, no matter if she was proclaimed ruler of the Elves or not, that his legacy endured and his good work continued. Impressed by her dedication to her husband’s efforts and memory, they had named her successor on the spot. It was a decision they were all probably regretting by now.