Marcus got to his feet, tentatively, and hopped down from the cart before holding out a hand to help Raesinia. Beside him, Andy stretched, shoulders popping audibly. Raesinia climbed down and looked around, curiously. Outwardly, Willowbrook looked like any other small estate that a minor noble or successful merchant might maintain, though the single high tower was architecturally a bit of an oddity. Men in plainclothes worked at the garden or simply stood around in pairs, watching.

“I’m sorry it took so long to arrange,” the captain said. “As you can imagine, we have to be more careful than ever.”

“I haven’t got much experience being a wanted man,” Marcus said, then turned to Raesinia and Andy. “Let me do the introductions. This is Captain Alex Giforte, formerly Vice Captain of Armsmen and in command here. Alex, this is Ranker Andria Dracht—”

“Andy, if you please,” Andy said, saluting.

“—and this,” Marcus went on, “is Her Majesty Raesinia Orboan.”

“You may as well call me Raes,” Raesinia said. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Marcus had explained that all his communications with Janus went through Giforte’s people, who were therefore privy to her identity already, but it still felt odd to reveal herself so openly. Giforte saluted again, but he wore a bemused expression that Raesinia was beginning to recognize. He’s thinking, Wait, this is the Queen of Vordan? She put on a rueful smile.

“Welcome to Willowbrook,” Giforte said. “Colonel, we’ve just had a message from Janus that you’ll want to see. Please, come with me.”

He led them up the path from the end of the drive to the house, as some of the other men closed in around the wagon and started unloading the genuine supplies that had come with them. The door opened at their approach, and though the man behind it wore servant’s clothes, he carried himself with a soldier’s bearing.

As Raesinia crossed the threshold, something lurched unpleasantly in her skull, and she felt a sharp pain for a moment behind one eye. She stopped, shaking her head, and the others pulled up short as well.

“Raes?” Marcus said.

“I feel . . .” She lowered her voice. “Marcus, it’s like at Twin Turrets. There’s someone—”

“Ah,” Giforte said. “She warned me this might happen. Feor?”

A young woman came forward, dressed in a plain black robe. She had dark hair, and skin the pale gray color of ashes. Raesinia found herself staring; while she’d read descriptions, she’d never met a Khandarai in the flesh before.

“Your Majesty,” the woman said. She was younger than Raesinia herself, maybe not even twenty. “My name is Feor.”

“You’re . . .” The pain in her head had subsided, but there was still a faint feeling of presence, and it grew stronger when she looked at Feor.

“Yes.” Feor looked at Giforte and Marcus. “I think Her Majesty and I should speak in private.”

*   *   *