“We’re almost done!” Dorna shouted. She lifted the raven-feather cloak over Ninavis’s shoulders. “Arasgon’s ready for you. You head to Khored’s Temple. The others are already there. Mithros will smuggle you out of the city.”

“What about you? The duke’s not going to just let you stroll away…”

The old woman waved a hand. “Oh sure. Rise from the dead before a couple of nobles and they label you witch before you can fill your lungs. Don’t you worry about me. I’ll meet up with you in the caves.” Noises interrupted them: soldiers returning, horses trotting back to their corrals. “Hurry now. They’re expecting you.”

“Who are?” Ninavis asked.

“Your army.” Dorna wagged a finger. “Best not keep them waiting.”

39: HANDED THE CROWN

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Tyentso wasn’t even a little bit ready for this

Ninavis picked up a dishrag and threw it at Qown.

“I’m sorry!” he said, throwing up his hands. “I was gaeshed!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she groused. “That’s what they all say.”

Janel laughed and launched into her turn.

Janel’s Turn. The Ice Demesne, Yor, Quur.

Bikeinoh found me a dress and ushered me from the women’s quarters. The entire way, I felt the wives’ angry stares, who seemed to think me a threat—siphoning the attention that should have been theirs.

I wanted to laugh, call them fools, and mock the very idea. But I didn’t know Duke Kaen. Maybe, despite Relos Var’s opinion, Kaen wouldn’t respect the “territory” of our sham marriage. Maybe he’d want what he couldn’t have.

Maybe they had a point.

I didn’t feel reassured when Bikeinoh brought me to the duke’s private parlor. Like the wives’ quarters, this room faced an outside wall, giving one a mind-numbing view of mountain vistas. As soon as she left, another door opened, and Wyrga stepped through. The hunched old woman carried an armful of clothing, including the red dress I’d been given to wear and Relos Var’s jewelry. Which also made me uneasy. As she’d pointed out to Senera, Wyrga wasn’t a maid.

“Ah, it’s the little whore,” Wyrga said, chuckling.

“Tell me, do you spend time gossiping with demons? Because you have a similar originality to your insults. I don’t think you’re trying hard enough to hurt my feelings. Come now. Do better.”

She laughed in delight as she dumped all the clothing in a chair. “I knew your mother, you know.”

“You’ve mentioned. And what, by chance, was my mother’s name?”