“I was just sending these invitations to the scribes. I’ve ordered them by distance, so those living the farthest away should have couriers leaving as early as next week.”

“Excellent, and the dress?”

“I finally got the design decided. We’re just waiting for material to be delivered from Colnora.”

“And how is Modina coming along?”

“Fine, fine,” she lied, smiling as best she could.

“She took the news of her wedded bliss well, then?”

“Modina receives all news pretty much the same way.”

Saldur nodded at her pleasantly. “Yes, true … true.” He appeared so grandfatherly, so kind and gentle. It would be easy to trust him if she had not seen firsthand the volcano that lurked beneath that warm surface. He brought her back to reality when he asked, “What were you doing in the north tower last night, my dear?”

She bit her tongue just in time to stop herself from replying with total honesty. “I bumped into some guards delivering soup there in the middle of the night, which I thought odd, because …”

“Because what?” Saldur pressed.

“Because there’s no one in the tower. Well, besides a seret, who appears to be standing guard over nothing. Do you know what that’s all about?” she asked, pleased with how she had managed to reinforce her innocence by casually turning the tables on the old man. She even considered batting her eyes but did not want to push it. Memories of Saldur ordering the guard to take her out of his sight still rang in her head. She did not know what that order had really meant, but she remembered the regret in the guard’s eyes as he had approached her.

“Of course I do. I’m regent—I know everything that goes on.”

“The thing is … that was quite a lot of soup for one knight. And it vanished, pot and all, in just a few minutes. But since you already know, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Saldur studied her silently for a moment. His expression was no longer the familiar one of condescension. She detected a faint hint of respect forming beneath his wrinkled brows.

“I see,” he replied at length. He glanced over his shoulder at Nimbus, who was smiling back, as innocent as a puppy. To her chagrin, Amilia noticed that he did bat his eyes. Saldur took no apparent notice of his antics, then reminded her not to seat the Duke and Lady of Rochelle next to the Prince of Alburn before withdrawing from her office.

“That was creepy,” Nimbus mentioned after Saldur left. “You poke your head in the tower and the next morning Saldur knows about it?”