He says more, although his Karenese is too rapid for me to understand completely. I just nod at him and turn my attention to the front of the property. Sure enough, I see a line of servants already at attention at the front of the property, their faces turned in our direction. My eyes wander to the rest of the pathway.

Constantine has never broken his promise regarding my mother, but I still worry. My fingers tap restlessly against my leg as I search for her. She’s not here yet.

The servants bow low as I step off the carriage and onto the path. Behind me, my driver doesn’t hesitate to urge his horses onward the instant I leave. I hear the snap of his reins, and when I look over my shoulder, his back is already turned, hunched as if bracing himself for me to attack him.

I turn to the servants. A part of me wants to extend my wings to their full span and watch these Karensans cower at the sight of the Premier’s Skyhunter, to be the monster they see. But I remind myself that they are servants. Some of them might even be prisoners like my mother, or people from some other conquered land, now forced to serve the mayor. Instead, I bow my head in return at them.

They don’t see me anyway. None of them dare look up at me.

“There she is, right on time!”

The familiar voice of the mayor drifts to me from the stairs, and I glance over to see the woman making her way down the steps toward me, regal in her silver-gray outfit and her thickly piled knot of hair.

“It seems you behaved well enough for the Premier to reward your mother,” she calls to me. Just as I’d seen in Newage, she smirks at the forced subservience on my face. Then she scowls at the servant beside her. “Well, don’t just stand there. Make sure the Skyhunter’s horse is ready and show her to it.”

The servant jumps a little at the command, bowing his head in a rush, then scurries off.

The mayor looks back at me and holds her hand out at the path winding along the side of the manor. “Your mother’s been out riding this morning. She’s stronger than she should be after such a long captivity. Maybe there’s something to be said for that Basean spirit.” She smiles. “Or maybe we’re treating our prisoners right, after all.”

My hands curl into fists at her joke, but she laughs. “Go on, then, Skyhunter,” she says, waving a dismissive hand at me. “I have a full morning of tasks ahead of me, and you’ve already taken up enough of my time.”

I’m surprised by this noblewoman’s small generosity, but I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I give her a quick bow of my head.

“Ah, Constantine and his games,” she says, her voice almost sad. There’s a glint of sympathy in her eyes. “He hasn’t changed since he was a child. All right, then. Off you go.”