Fatima pulled out a piece of red organic paper. As she did, glittering silver words appeared on the page. She pushed it toward Nyx.

Nyx leaned back, as if the red paper emitted some terrible heat. Her heart beat a little faster.

“That looks… official,” Nyx said. The words were in a flowery script that was nearly impossible to read, but she didn’t need to read it. She’d seen one before.

“We finally got around to processing the Queen’s request to reinstate your bel dame status,” Fatima said.

“What, twelve years later?”

“Bel dames are not known for the efficiency of their paper pushing.”

“Why now?” Nyx said. She raised her gaze from the letter. She had been played often by her sisters. Promised much. Given nothing. “I saw the ship in the sky. Is that our friends from New Kinaan again, come to talk war and weapons and negotiate deals?”

“It has nothing to do with them. There are certainly disagreements between the Queen and the Families about what the aliens are proposing, but that is not your concern.”

“Aliens aren’t my concern? So what is?”

“This is a job bel dames need to be… involved in.”

Nyx raised a brow. “I thought the Queen wanted someone not associated with either. That’s why she called me.”

“What is best is not always…” Fatima sighed. “The Queen is set to abdicate. Those rumors are true. There will be a… different kind of government after her. You know me Nyx, and you know the bel dames. You’ve seen those men out there. We need to ensure that the bel dames become a part of whatever new government entity is built out of this mess. I need one of our own to do this.”

“But why me? You have hundreds of younger, faster women.”

“Young, fast, and stupid,” Fatima said. “And they do not know the man I need you to bring in the way you do.”

Nyx tried to parse that. She fixed her gaze on the letter again. What man did she know that needed bringing in? The first face she saw was Rhys’s—it was a face she had tried hard to forget. People said you forgot faces after a while, and maybe she had forgotten his, but the feeling she got when she thought of him was the same—a fierce protectiveness that left her with some mixture of anger and regret. But why would they want Rhys? What other man had she worked with who was still alive? Khos was off making babies in Tirhan. He wasn’t dangerous. There were a few more—men she had served with at the front, old partners, but most of those were dead now.

“Tell me his name,” Nyx said.

“Not until you agree to come back.”