“It was a very good thing,” Paks said. “That is how magery should be used.”

“I hope the Council will see it that way,” Dorrin said. “It is still against Tsaian law, since Gird’s time.”

“I came for more than a visit,” Paks said. “You should go to the Tsaian prince’s coronation … you have had the invitation—?”

Dorrin looked up, startled. “That must be what the courier brought. I had no time; I had to go to what I thought was a judgment, and then I forgot.” She looked around, and saw the courier’s velvet pouch, embroidered with the royal arms of Tsaia lying on a side table. Inside was a scroll tied with rose and silver ribbons. Dorrin unrolled the stiff parchment. In formal flowery language it requested the honor of her presence as a peer of the realm at the coronation of Mikeli Vostan Keriel, rightful heir to the throne of Tsaia, unto whom she, as peer, would pledge fealty. It carried the seals of Tsaia, the signatures of Dukes Marrakai and Mahieran, members of the Regency Council, and the crown prince.

A smaller, thinner paper, rolled into the scroll, bore a personal, less formal message from the prince himself.

If it be that your domain is still too unsettled to permit your attendance, I will forgive your absence and send instead a Marshal to take your vows. Others may interpret your absence differently; for your own sake it would be wise to come if you can.

No word of her family members sent to Vérella, no comment on her rule so far. She pushed both across the table to Paks. “You were right; it is the invitation to the coronation. But I cannot go. I’ve still not found the young men and older boys who were here before I came—evidence of their sudden departure, yes, but by the time I had dealt with those left behind, they were beyond tracing. I expected them to come back, to attack—I still do—but so far, nothing. I have no one here I can trust, yet, to guard it while I’m gone, no one who knows it well enough.”

Paks read intently, her finger moving down the lines. “Why do the peers—that’s lords I suppose—have to swear fealty again? If they aren’t loyal already, why are they on the Council?”

“Didn’t Kieri—the king—have them do that in Lyonya?”

“He was new to them,” Paks said. “That made sense, but this—they’ve known the prince for years—”

“As prince, not as king,” Dorrin said. “Now it will be personal, as yours was to Kieri in the Company.”

“If all are swearing fealty again, you should go,” Paks said. “They must all—all the lords, and the prince—see that you have a personal oath to him. And you should know them, as you are one of them now.”

Dorrin traced the seal of Tsaia lightly with her forefinger. “And leave behind those the prince and Council told me to protect and rule?”

“Others do.”