It was the odd conundrum of her life. To be a Forger was not just about soulstamps—it was about the art of mimicry in its entirety. Writing, art, personal signets… an apprentice Forger—mentored half in secret by her people—learned all mundane forgery before being taught to use soulstamps.

The stamps were the highest order of their art, but they were the most difficult to hide. Yes, a seal could be placed in an out-of-the-way place on an object, then covered over. Shai had done that very thing on occasion. However, so long as the seal was somewhere to be found, a Forgery could not be perfect.

“Leave us,” Frava said to Zu and the guards.

“But—” Zu said, stepping forward.

“I do not like to repeat myself, Captain,” Frava said.

Zu growled softly, but bowed in obedience. He gave Shai a glare—that was practically a second occupation for him, these days—and retreated with his men. They shut the door with a click.

The Bloodsealer’s stamp still hung there on the door, renewed this morning. The Bloodsealer came at the same time most days. Shai had kept specific notes. On days when he was a little late, his seal started to dim right before he arrived. He always got to her in time to renew it, but perhaps someday…

Frava inspected Shai, eyes calculating.

Shai met that gaze with a steady one of her own. “Zu assumes I’m going to do something horrible to you while we’re alone.”

“Zu is simpleminded,” Frava said, “though he is very useful when someone needs to be killed. Hopefully you won’t ever have to experience his efficiency firsthand.”

“You’re not worried?” Shai said. “You are alone in a room with a monster.”

“I’m alone in a room with an opportunist,” Frava said, strolling to the door and inspecting the seal burning there. “You won’t harm me. You’re too curious about why I sent the guards away.”

Actually, Shai thought, I know precisely why you sent them away. And why you came to me during a time when all of your associate arbiters were guaranteed to be busy at the festival. She waited for Frava to make the offer.

“Has it occurred to you,” Frava said, “how… useful to the empire it would be to have an emperor who listened to a voice of wisdom when it spoke to him?”

“Surely Emperor Ashravan already did that.”

“On occasion,” Frava said. “On other occasions, he could be… belligerently foolish. Wouldn’t it be amazing if, upon his rebirth, he were found lacking that tendency?”

“I thought you wanted him to act exactly like he used to,” Shai said. “As close to the real thing as possible.”

“True, true. But you are renowned as one of the greatest Forgers ever to live, and I have it on good authority that you are specifically talented with stamping your own soul. Surely you can replicate dear Ashravan’s soul with authenticity, yet also make him inclined to listen to reason… when that reason is spoken by specific individuals.”