I knew they would be headed to the parties: eight evenings of dancing, drinking, and merriment to match the daytime festivities.

I quelled my envy and disappointment. This would have been my first Great Tournament after coming of age. My first opportunity to show myself in splendor as Count of Tolamer, to parade before my peers and revel in dancing and accolades.

No one stopped me as I made my way to the corridor I had chosen for my ambush. I had once used it as a child to lie in wait for the duke—the current duke’s father—who rewarded such ambushes with sugar candies. I stood there, acting like a bored knight awaiting orders.

All my plans would be for naught if the duke took another passage.

Footsteps told me I had guessed correctly. And as they drew close, I pulled the helmet off my head. I tucked it under an arm and stepped out from around the corner.

Foran Xun, Duke of Jorat, had gained his title young—like me he’d lost his father in the Lonezh Hellmarch. His mother, Pyna, walked just after her son, dressed in rich brown robes, only technically obeying mare propriety. Foran himself was a beautiful mahogany color, with a white laevos and light-kissed hands.

His brown eyes widened in surprise as he saw me ahead in the hallway. His soldiers, armed and armored in real metal rather than lacquered leather or reed, seemed no less surprised … but a great deal less pleased.

“My duke.” I crouched down to the floor even as guards drew their weapons. “Please hear my plea.”

Footsteps toward me.

How he reacted to this would tell me if he had been poisoned against me. I tensed, even made ready to run.

“Wait. Janel Danorak? From Tolamer? I haven’t seen you in years.” He sounded surprised. Then he began to laugh. “No, no, she’s fine. Leave her be.”

They did not leave me be, but the guards respectfully helped me to my feet.

“Look how she’s grown,” Pyna Xun murmured to her son. “So lovely, but we must get her in a different color. She looks like a Black Knight dressed so.” She laughed at the ridiculous idea.

I breathed deeply and kept my eyes to the ground. “My duke, I would speak with you about Barsine Banner.”

“Barsine? Barsine … Mother, why does that sound familiar?”

“The witches, dear.”

“Right! Yes, the witches.” Duke Xun snapped his fingers. “And you attended, didn’t you? By the Eight, that must have been hideous. Walk with us. You’re coming to the party tonight? I’m told the chefs have made a life-sized stallion from rice flour and corn silk. I’m so excited.”

I glanced up at the duke in surprise, unable to stop myself. While his knowledge of the disaster reassured me, he’d given far more importance to the party.