“Well, you’ll have to do it fast.” Olga rapped on the huge double doors by the top of the main stairs. “The duke detests being kept waiting.”

“Indeed—Kara!—oof!”

“My lady!”

Miriam pushed her back to arm’s length. “You’ve been alright?” she asked anxiously. “No murderers lurking in your bedroom?”

“None, milady!” Kara flushed and let go of her. “Milady! What is that you’re wearing? It’s so frumpy! And you, lady Olga? Is this some horrid new fashion from Paris that we’ll all be wearing in a month? Has somebody been biting your neck, that you’ve got to hide it?”

“I hope not,” Miriam said dryly. “Listen.” She towed Kara into the empty outer audience chamber. “We’re going to see Angbard in half an hour. Half an hour. Get something for me to wear. And warn Olga’s maids. We’ve been on the road half a day.”

“I shall!” She bounced away toward the bedchamber.

Miriam rubbed her forehead. “Youth and enthusiasm.” She made a wry curse of it.

Her bedroom was as she’d left it four months ago—Olga had taken the Queen’s Room, for there were four royal rooms in this apartment—and for once Miriam didn’t drive Kara out. “Help me undress,” she ordered. “Aah, that’s better. Um. Fetch the pot. Then would you mind getting me a basin of hot water? I need to scrub my face.”

Kara, for a wonder, left Miriam alone to wash herself—then doubled the miracle by laying out one of Miriam’s trouser suits and retiring to the outer chamber. “She’s learning,” Miriam noted. “Hmm.” It felt strange to be dressing for an ordinary day in the office world, doubly strange to be doing so with medieval squallor held at bay outside by guards with swords. “What the hell.” She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was past shoulder length, there were worry lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there six months ago, and her jacket was loose at the waist. “Not bad.” Then she spotted a couple of white hairs. “Damn. Bad.” She combed it back hard, held it in place with a couple of pins, and turned her back on the mirror. “Hostile takeover time, kid. Go kill ’em.”

There were no simple chambers for the duke. He’d taken over the royal apartment in the west wing, occupying half of the top floor, and his guards had staked out the entire floor below as a security measure. Nor was it possible for Miriam to pay a quiet visit on him. Not without first picking up a retinue of a palace majordomo, a bunch of guards led by a nervous young officer, and an overexcited teenager. Kara fussed around behind Miriam as she climbed the stairs. “Isn’t it exciting?” she squealed.