“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Pagiel glanced at Dorian. “Your Majesties. I believe my mother is, uh, already working with the servants to ensure Ansonia is comfortable.”

Oh, I didn’t doubt that in the least. A pang of regret struck me as I recalled that last antagonistic meeting with Ysabel. I’d been semi-sympathetic to her concerns for Pagiel but had mostly treated her as though she was behaving in a hysterical and exaggerated manner. Whatever she was doing now, no one could accuse her of overreacting. Her daughter’s life had been wrongfully threatened.

After a few more conciliatory words from us, Pagiel and the guards who’d entered with him finally left. Once I was alone with Dorian and Roland again, I stood up to walk off my frustration. I paused at the room’s window, looking out at the idyllic green grounds below. The Rowan Land looked more like a fairyland than ever before when seen from afar. One didn’t notice all the danger and turmoil from this high up.

“Don’t beat yourself up, my dear,” said Dorian, watching me pace. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. The question is: what are you going to do now?”

I glanced back at him in alarm. “What are you going to do? You weren’t serious about this being an act of war, were you? I mean, we’re already kind of at war, but there’s no need for some drastic retaliation.”

“There’s need for something drastic,” countered Dorian. “Really, Pagiel’s interruption follows quite nicely on the heels of what we’d just been discussing. They have us running and slinking in the shadows. Are you really going to do this for the rest of your pregnancy? Are you going to do this after your children are born?”

I threw up my hands. “What else is there to do? Are you proposing some invasion of Maiwenn’s land?”

Dorian looked remarkably calm, considering the topic. “It wouldn’t be unfounded. And it would certainly send a message that they can’t keep pushing us around. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that maybe attacking young Ansonia wasn’t a mistake on their part?”

“What would make you say that?” I came back over to stand in front of him. Roland watched our exchange in silence. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Exactly,” said Dorian. “And the next girl attacked won’t either. Or the next.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “You’re saying they’re purposely attacking girls who look like me? Even though they know it’s in error?”

“I’m not saying for sure that’s what they’re doing. But it would be an excellent ploy to turn your—our—own people against us, if they feel they’re being unjustly targeted.”

“Sending our people to war would put a lot more of them in danger,” I pointed out. Five years ago, I never would have dreamed I’d be having these sorts of discussions.

“Yes,” said Dorian. “But danger’s a lot easier to face when you’re initiating it on your terms, as opposed to exposing yourself to victimization.”