Turning as casually as she could, she stole a glance over her shoulder to see Modina still looking out the window with her traditional vague and distant expression. Amilia slowly picked up the pillow and resumed her straightening. Then she ventured, “It might have taken a little time, but I’m certain I could have persuaded him to provide us with the material.”

Amilia waited, holding her breath, listening.

Silence.

Just when she was certain it had been only one of her rare outbursts of coherency, Modina spoke again. “He never would have given in to you. You’re scared of him, and he knows that.”

“And you aren’t?”

Again silence. Amilia waited.

“I’m not afraid of anything anymore,” the empress finally replied, her voice distant and thin.

“Maybe not afraid, but it would bother you if they took the window away.”

“Yes,” Modina said simply.

Amilia watched as the empress closed her eyes and turned her face full into the light of the sun.

“If Saldur discovers your masquerade—if he thinks you’ve been just acting insane and misleading the regents for over a year—it might frighten him into locking you up where you can’t do any harm. They could put you in a dark hole somewhere and leave you there.”

“I know,” Modina said, her eyes still closed and head tilted upward. Immersed in the daylight, she appeared almost to glow. “But I won’t let them hurt you.”

The words took a moment to register with Amilia. She had heard them clearly enough, but their meaning came so unexpectedly that she sat on the bed without realizing it. As she thought back, it should have been obvious, but not until that moment did she realize what Modina had done. The empress’s speech had been for Amilia’s benefit—to ensure that Ethelred and Saldur could not have her removed or killed. Few people had ever gone out of their way for Amilia. The concept that Modina—the crazy empress—had risked herself in this way was unimaginable. Such an event was as likely as the wind changing direction to suit her, or the sun asking her permission to shine.

“Thank you,” was all she could think to say. For the first time she felt awkward in Modina’s presence. “I’m going to go now.”

She headed for the door. As her hand touched the latch, Modina spoke again.

“It isn’t completely an act, you know.”

Waiting inside the regent’s office, Amilia realized she had not heard a word in her meeting with the ladies or during the dedication later that morning. Dumbfounded by her conversation with Modina—by the mere fact that she had actually had a conversation with Modina—she registered little else. Her distraction, however, vanished the instant Saldur arrived.