Before he could respond, Janel continued, “But first I have an unpleasant task to complete.” She lowered her arms. “I regret I must inform you that your son Oreth is dead.”

He barely reacted, except his face paled. “Did you kill him?”

“He fell in with the Yorans—”

“So did you.”

“I was kidnapped by the Yorans. Not the same thing. In any event, I believe you already know about Oreth’s crimes. But after he left, your son found himself mixed up with unpleasantries. Really, it had nothing at all to do with Oreth, but he took the blame. Duke Kaen had him executed. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it worked out the way it did.”

He swallowed, eyes bright, and said nothing for several heavy, tense seconds. “Very well.” He nodded. “I shall take it under advisement. I assume you’ve come here to throw yourself on my mercy—”

“No.”

Malkoessian frowned.

“I’m here to explain your new situation,” Janel corrected. “I’m sure you realize, or must suspect, that Duke Xun is dead. And you likely think that you’re the obvious choice to replace him.” She shook her head slowly. “Let go of that idea, Aroth. It’s not going to work out that way.”

“Have your years away made you forget all etiquette? You call me my lord.”

“No, I don’t.” Janel’s eyes flashed blue as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Look at me, Aroth. Look in my eyes.”

The rest of the Markreev’s admonishment died stillborn. Ninavis gave Janel an odd look.

“No, Aroth. You talked your son into believing that he was entitled to my bed. You gave him my grandfather’s letter and told yourself that you were forcing a marriage between us for my own good, for the good of the Theranon family name. Because of that belief, Oreth tried so hard to gain what you’d told him was his birthright that he strayed right into treason.” Her smile was cruel as she saw Aroth flinch. “I owe you no thudajé. But you owe me a great deal.”

The Markreev’s expression cleared. “So you want to be duke.”

“In fact, no.” Janel stepped away from the table and clapped a hand on Ninavis’s shoulder. “Please allow me to introduce you to Sir Ninavis Theranon. She’s going to be next Duke of Jorat.”

The Markreev likely didn’t notice the slight widening of Ninavis’s eyes, the startled glance the woman gave Janel. Ninavis recovered quickly.

“Theranon? But there are no other—”

“I’ve decided to adopt her.” Janel turned to Ninavis. “Did you know there’s no rule that says I can’t adopt someone older than myself?”

“Well, I know now,” Ninavis admitted, eying Janel warily.