The grand, exalted empress Modina Novronian, ruler of Avryn and high priestess of the Church of Nyphron, sat sprawled on the floor, feeding her bowl of soup to Red, who expressed his gratitude by drooling on her dress. He rested his head on her lap and slapped his tail against the stone, his tongue sliding lazily in and out. The empress curled up beside the dog and laid her head on the animal’s side. Amilia smiled. She was encouraged by seeing Modina interact with something, anything.

“Get that disgusting animal out of here and get her off the floor!”

Amilia jumped and looked up, horrified. Regent Saldur entered the kitchen with Edith Mon, wearing a sinister smile. Amilia could not move. Several scullery maids rushed to the empress’s side and gently pulled her to her feet.

“The very idea.” He continued to shout as the maids busied themselves with smoothing out Modina’s dress. “You,” the regent growled, pointing at Amilia, “this is your doing. I should have known. What was I expecting when I put a common street urchin in charge of … of …” He trailed off, looking at Modina with an exasperated expression. “At least your predecessors didn’t have her groveling with animals!”

“Your Grace, Amilia was—” Ibis Thinly began.

“Shut up, you oaf!” Saldur snapped at the stocky cook, and then returned his attention to Amilia. “Your service to the empress has ended, as well as your employment at this palace.”

Saldur motioned to the empress’s guard and then said, “Take her out of my sight.”

The guard approached Amilia, unable to meet her eyes.

Amilia breathed in short, stifled gasps and realized she was trembling as the soldier approached. Not normally given to crying, Amilia could not help it, and tears began streaming down her cheeks.

“No,” Modina said.

Spoken with no force, barely above a whisper, the single word cast a spell on the room. One of the cooking staff dropped a metal pot, which rang loudly on the stone floor. They all stared. The regent turned in surprise and then began to circle the empress, studying her with interest. The girl had a focused, challenging look as she glared at Saldur. The regent glanced from Amilia to Modina several times. He cocked his head from side to side, as if trying to work out a puzzle. The guard stood by awkwardly.

At length, Saldur put him at ease. “As the empress commands,” Saldur said without taking his eyes off Modina. “It seems that I may have been a bit premature in my assessment of …” Saldur glanced at Amilia, annoyed. “What’s your name?”

“A-Amilia.”

He nodded as if approving the correct answer. “Your techniques are unusual, but certainly one can’t argue with results.”