Morjeta pursed her lips. “Most of us serve the goddess above all.” She spread her hands. “But despite the training and the oaths, leinas are human, with human hopes and flaws. They can be threatened or bribed. They can be manipulated to think they have no choices.” She glanced at Triste, and a shadow of anguish passed across her face. “Demivalle is strict in her adherence to the oaths—this year already she has seen four leinas and a serving girl cut and put outside the walls for violating the trust of the goddess—but this temple houses hundreds, and she cannot be everywhere.”

“We will move to my estate,” Gabril said. “These Ishien would not follow you there, and this temple is no longer safe. Now that the councillor knows you are here, he will come back.”

Morjeta hesitated, then shook her head. “He doesn’t know. Not for certain. We’ve been careful to keep Kaden hooded and hidden at all times save inside my own rooms. At the most, Adiv has heard that my daughter has returned. You should be safe here, at least for a few more nights.”

“He was searching for a man,” Kaden pointed out.

“He was fishing,” Morjeta said, “hoping Demivalle would let something slip. If he knew for certain that you were here, that I was shielding you, Ciena’s walls would not keep you safe.”

“There must be some way to stop him,” Triste said, hands balling into fists, “to kill him.”

“Tarik Adiv is not the problem,” Kaden said quietly, shaking his head. “Not yet, at least.”

Triste turned to him, aghast. “He tried to murder you once already. He threatened my mother and took me from the temple by force, and now he’s back, hunting us again. How is he not the problem?”

“He is only an obstacle,” Kaden replied, “if we decide to remain in the city. We could be gone tomorrow morning, by tonight, and he would have no way to follow us.”

“You would run?” Gabril asked, face hardening. “And what of this empire you pledged to destroy? What of your constitution?”

Kaden met the First Speaker’s angry glare. “I don’t plan to run, but until we have devised a way to destroy the empire itself, it’s irrelevant whether or not Tarik Adiv watches over the Dawn Palace. Irrelevant whether or not we kill him.”

“Killing would be a good place to start,” Triste said. “We can figure out the rest as we go along.”

“No,” Kaden said, shaking his head. “Killing Adiv will create an absence in the Dawn Palace, a brief period in which no one rules Annur—but absence is difficult to maintain. If our own council is not there to fill the empty space, then il Tornja, or Adare, or another of his minions will step in almost immediately.”

“Unfortunately,” Kiel said, “after our meeting tonight, forming a council looks unlikely.”