“I hear the prince visited yestereve,” Marshal Veksin said. He sounded as if he disapproved.

“The prince, Duke Mahieran, and High Marshal Seklis,” Dorrin said. “They did me the honor of coming here after I went to the palace; given the circumstances, I scarcely expected it and was not, alas, prepared to receive them as handsomely as they deserved.”

“They parted friendly, I heard,” Veksin said.

“Indeed so,” Dorrin said. “I had never met the prince, in my years with Duke Phelan’s Company, but the Duke had told me about him. It was both honor and delight to meet him and the others.”

A grunt from behind indicated that Veksin was thinking about that. Now on the second floor, she led them to her uncle’s study. “That,” she said, nodding at Liart’s symbol on the wall and the bloodstains on the floor. “I am not wise in such matters, but it seems to me this is the worst. Next would be the bedrooms, with blood on the thresholds and bloodmarks under the beds.”

“Are there simple traps here?” Marshal Tamis asked.

“Undoubtedly,” Dorrin said. “I have found two hands’ worth at least, so far, and expect to find more. No chair here is completely safe, nor drawer nor cabinet door, and I would not handle those things that look most interesting or valuable. I will show you one trap I have not yet disarmed.” With the butt of her dagger, Dorrin pressed on the back of one chair; a spike emerged from the upholstery, its tip clearly darker than the rest. “That is poison,” Dorrin said. “Anyone who sits in this chair, without the trap being disarmed, looses a spring and that spike will pierce clothing, even leather.”

“Can you disarm it?”

“Not without taking the chair apart, which is itself dangerous. On Verrakai’s own domain, I burned such things, which also destroyed the poison. Here, in the city, fire is too dangerous. I planned to have them broken up in the stableyard, and burn the parts containing poison in the kitchen hearth.”

“Will you wish to observe our work?” Veklis asked.

“No,” Dorrin said. “As I am required at the palace, I have things to do before then. Call if you need me; I will tell you when I leave for the palace.”

Downstairs, she gave up on the two difficult chests, and looked into the larder. There she found a plain wooden box, untrapped, and in the linen press off the large reception room, a small tablecloth, heavily embroidered, for a cover. She herself packed the treasure into it, covered it with the tablecloth, and tied the cloth on with blue velvet ropes from the drapes. A certain sullen resentment emanated from the box; Dorrin murmured to it as to a child.

“You will be safe; you will be honored; all will be well.”

I am yours; you are mine; no other will suffice.

“If you are mine, then it is my will you abide here for the time being,” Dorrin said.