The Protectorate Ministry agent swallows imperceptibly, the battle all but drained from his expression.

“I should say you’re off to a fair start,” he admits, however reluctant. “We shall see how you finish.”

“Say my name,” she instructs him.

Oisin blinks at her in surprise. “What? What do you—”

“I wish to hear you say my name. I wish to hear you say it with respect and recognition rather than disdain. If you cannot say my name without those qualities imbued in it then you and I obviously remain at odds. I do not wish to be at odds with you. I must know if I will be forced to resolve the matter another way.”

Oisin no longer seems to recognize her. The look on his face is surprised, even astonished. Dyeawan imagines he isn’t used to being bested, let alone by someone he thought of as a defenseless child confined to a chair with wheels, a little girl who should be vulnerable and frightened and grateful for the smallest kindness.

“As you wish, Dyeawan,” he says, and though it is quiet, the only emotion contained in his voice is repressed fear.

Dyeawan nods, her expression satisfied.

“You may go now.”

Oisin turns, sweeping his cape over his shoulder and pacing back into the shadows of the chamber.

Dyeawan waits for the report of his footfalls to become very far away before she commands him to halt.

“Oisin,” she calls to him.

The sounds of his footfalls cease.

“Gather as many agents as you need. I want you to remove every body from the bottom of the bay. You will have them properly wrapped. You will build pyres for each. They will be burned and you will show them all the deference and respect they deserve. I want it done immediately, in secret. I know you can manage that.”

No immediate answer is forthcoming. Dyeawan imagines Oisin stroking or perhaps gripping the handle of his dagger there in the dark, reconsidering the notion of slitting her throat and seizing the power he’d no doubt been dreaming of since Edger’s body was carried back to the Cadre.

Dyeawan knows the next moment will either solidify her new position or destroy it.

She finds to her surprise that her heart isn’t beating any faster than it would otherwise.

“As you wish,” Oisin repeats mechanically.

Dyeawan feels muscles she wasn’t even aware were tensed suddenly relax. The rest of her, most importantly her expression and voice, remain unchanged.

“Thank you,” she says. “There is one other matter with which I require your assistance. It is a service you and the Ministry are in a unique position to provide, being the authority on unearthing secret knowledge.”

She can practically hear his teeth grinding as Oisin asks, “And what is that?”

“I want to know where I come from,” she says. “I want to know who my parents were.”

“Why does that matter?”

Oisin sounds genuinely confused.