“It is no shame to you, my lord,” Dorrin said. “That is what I was, most of my life, and you saw the truth of it. I never expected to use my family’s name again or take any part in the life of nobles.”

“It did not bother you to set that wealth and luxury aside?” High Marshal Seklis asked.

“Marshal, if you knew what it was that you call luxury—I was glad to escape, and that was not my only attempt. I wanted nothing they had to offer me.” Dorrin clenched her fists in her lap to stop them trembling. “The current Knight-Commander of Falk knows some of it. I told him, and Paksenarrion. If I must—”

“Not if it pains you,” the prince said, holding up a hand. The two older men looked as if they would hear more.

Dorrin shook her head. “It pains me, my lord prince, but it is what made me what I am. I would prefer not to have it become a … a tale of dinner gossip. It is not trivial to me.”

High Marshal Seklis frowned at the younger men. “Can we trust you youngsters not to chatter?”

They nodded. Dorrin looked them each in the face. They had been someone’s squires, or were now: they should know how to keep secrets. She repeated again what she had told Kieri Phelan and Paks; the telling was no easier for being repeated. From their faces, they were first disbelieving, then horrified, disgusted.

“That’s horrible!” the younger Serrostin burst out. His brother put a hand on his shoulder. “How did you—how could a child—survive—?”

“I don’t know. I can remember little—so if there was someone who helped me, taught me—I do not know who it was.” She went on, as quickly as she could, ignoring their exclamations and finished with the story of her final, successful escape and the sanctuary Falk’s Hall had given her.

“A remarkable story,” Duke Mahieran said, with an undertone of if true.

The young men were looking at her as she had had young men look before: squires to captains who had just revealed something of their own youth. High Marshal Seklis shook his head. “I believe it is true, Sonder. And the paladin is her friend. Whatever the other Verrakaien believed or believe, this one is not like them.”

“There’s still that story of conspiracy,” Duke Mahieran said. “Mikeli’s my nephew, my prince, and soon to be my king. We must know what she knows about that.”

“I do not know what you have heard,” Dorrin said. “But in my uncle’s study in the house in our domain, I found proof of … of something. I don’t know exactly what; I brought … things … here, to give to the prince.”

“Liart’s foulness, I suppose.”

“No, my lord. I would still rather show, than speak of them. They are at the house, under guard.”

“Back east, or here in Vérella?”

“Here. Paksenarrion has seen them; she thinks something is missing, something she once found, but then forsook.”