Amilia woke with a newfound purpose. She resolved to free Modina from her room, if only for a short while. The cell reeked of the scent of urine and mildew, which lingered even after scrubbing and fresh straw. She wanted to take Modina outside but knew that would be asking too much. Amilia tried to convince herself that Lady Constance had been dragged away because of Modina’s failing health, and not because she had taken her to the kitchen. But even so, no matter the consequences, Amilia had to try.

Amilia changed both herself and Modina into their day clothing and, taking her gently by the hand, led her to the door and knocked. When it opened, she faced the guard straight and tall and announced, “I’m taking the empress to the kitchen for her meal. I was appointed the imperial secretary by Regent Saldur himself, and I’m responsible for her care. She can’t remain in this filthy cell. It’s killing her.”

She waited.

He would refuse and she would argue. She tried to organize her rebuttals: noxious vapors, the healing power of fresh air, the fact that they would kill her if the empress did not show improvement. Why that last one would persuade him she had not worked out, but it was one of the thoughts pressing on her mind.

The guard looked from Amilia to Modina and back to Amilia again. She was shocked when he nodded and stepped aside. Amilia hesitated; she had not considered the possibility he would relent. She led the empress up the steps while the soldier followed.

She made no announcement like Lady Constance. She simply walked in with the empress in tow, bringing the kitchen once more to a halt. Everyone stared. No one said a word.

“The empress would like her meal,” Amilia told Ibis, who nodded. “Could you please put some extra bread at the bottom of the bowl, and could she get some fruit today?”

“Aye, aye,” the big man acknowledged. “Leif, get on it. Nipper, go to the storage and bring up some of those berries. The rest of you, back to work. Nothing to see here.”

Nipper bolted outside, leaving the door open. Red, one of the huntsman’s old dogs, wandered in. Modina dropped Amilia’s hand.

“Leif, get that animal out of here,” Ibis ordered.

“Wait,” Amilia said. Everyone watched as the empress knelt down next to the elkhound. The dog, in turn, nuzzled her.

Red was old, and his muzzle had gone gray, and his eyes clouded with blindness. Why the huntsman kept him was a mystery, as all he did was sleep in the courtyard and beg for handouts from the kitchen. Few took notice of his familiar presence, but he commanded the empress’s attention. She scratched behind his ears and stroked his fur.

“I guess Red gets to stay.” Ibis chuckled. “Dog’s got important friends.”