“We can’t do that,” Agnes said.

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. Everyone at the table froze.

“Open up, in the name of the Triumvirate!” a deep but distinctly female voice called.

“Put your headdress on,” Phebe hissed at Sera, who hurried to cover herself. From upstairs, the baby began to wail. Phebe took a deep breath and walked calmly to answer the door.

“Good evening,” she said. “How may I be of service to the Triumvirate?”

“Good evening, mistress,” another female voice, as smooth as velvet, replied. “We are inquiring after the Byrne who was in your shop earlier today.”

“The one with a raggedy sailor companion and Alethea Byrne’s face,” the first voice growled. Agnes recognized it with a jolt—Rowen, the head of the Aerin’s guard.

“Dorinda.” Vada muttered the name under her breath like a curse.

“What do you want with him?” Phebe asked, but Rowen pushed past her and into the house. When she caught sight of Leo, satisfaction spread across her face.

“The moneylender was right,” Rowen said. “You do look just like her. But Alethea’s children are in Kaolin.”

For a second Agnes thought Leo would try to deny it. “Not this one,” he finally admitted.

Rowen seemed amused. “The prodigal son,” she said. There was a cold pause. “Where is your sister?”

Agnes had never been so grateful to have her father’s face.

“Still in Kaolin,” Leo lied smoothly. “I came here myself, to be married.” He gestured to Sera. “Like mother like son, I suppose.”

“Please excuse my companion,” the second Misarro said, coming up to stand beside Rowen. She was heavier set, with auburn spikes and a golden sun emblazoned across her chest declaring her to serve the Renalt. “The Aerin’s Misarros aren’t known for their manners. I am Eireen Connor, head of Princess Rahel’s guard. The princess has requested your presence on her great ship the Gilded Lily.” Eireen’s eyes roved over the table and the remnants of dinner. “She wishes for you to join her for dessert.” As an afterthought, she added, “You may bring your fiancée if you wish.”

Something in the way she said it made Agnes think this princess would rather Sera not attend.

“That’s very kind of her,” Leo said. “But I’m quite comfortable here, thanks.”

Eireen smiled at him pleasantly. “This is not a request.”

Agnes could see two more Misarros looming just outside the door and wondered how many might have come to carry out Rahel’s wishes.

“Very well,” Leo said. “But my fiancée will remain here.”

Eireen looked relieved by this, but Rowen frowned.

“Take off your headdress,” she commanded Sera. “Let us see what sort of Pelagan would attach herself to such a . . .” She looked Leo up and down. “Half-breed.”