And there was Verrakai House, the old keep rising grim and dark from its center, the various additions in less weathered stone … outbuildings around it … no wall, because, she’d been told, they needed none. Magery alone would protect the house.

Magery had brought it down—the prince had been clear. If she could not rule Verrakai, the Crown would take over, razing the house, the old keep, everything, and divide it between lords the prince thought loyal.

Dorrin reached inside her doublet and pulled out the ducal chain and medallion again. Valthan nodded approval as she spread it on her shoulders, folding back her cloak so it showed clearly, but it was not for him—or for her family—that she did so. For an instant she had felt again the panic of the child she had been, and fought it down with a soldier’s discipline. The former duke’s ring, large enough to fit her bare thumb, fit snugly on the heart-hand heart-finger over her riding glove; she made sure it was secure, and touched the ducal medallion. She was not that terrified, miserable child, nor yet an errant daughter returning to beg forgiveness; she was the prince’s vassal, the rightful Duke, come to take control of a rebellious province. When she was satisfied, she legged her mount on.

“Do you want the Royal Guard to precede you?” Valthan asked.

Dorrin shook her head. “No. They must see that I am in command, and unafraid.”

“An archer could take you out—”

“Remember my protection,” Dorrin said. “I doubt they’ll try anything that simple, but if they do I have nothing to fear—nor do you. You may announce me when we get there.”

No one rode out to meet the column as it marched nearer. No sentry challenged them; nothing stirred in the empty, snow-patched fields, no cattle or sheep or horses—some should have been grazing the Winterfield—no peasants. Dorrin knew better than to think no one had noticed their arrival.

“Do you want me to send out scouts?” Selfer asked.

Dorrin shook her head. “I know it’s what we would do ordinarily, cut off anyone trying to escape, but I’m not sure how far my protection extends. I think it’s better to stay close, even though some may win free.”

Halfway from the trees to the house, she felt the first tingle of personal magery. It had a flavor she remembered, one of her cousins’. She blocked it without effort, and checked to see if it had touched her troop. No. It had been meant for her alone, and her cousin would recognize her block as readily as she would recognize her cousin’s probe. If they had not known before who was coming, that touch would reveal her.

They waited on the front steps of the entrance hall, all the women she remembered and the children she had never seen. Her aunt Jeruvin, the deposed Duke’s widow. Her other aunt, the Duke’s brother’s wife. Her mother. Her male cousins’ wives and her female cousins, all their faces stony with hatred … only the children showed anything but hostility. The older male cousins—who should have been there, unless they’d been fostered to other houses—were nowhere in sight. They might be preparing an attack, or they might have fled.