His father fixed back on him. “Here it is. We will not announce that the princess has disappeared. We will set the Guard looking for one Rebecca Morley—that was the name you said she used, wasn’t it—who fits the princess’s description, taken from Southbridge Temple by Cuffs Alister. Rebecca, we’ll say, comes from a wealthy family but wanted to do good works for the poor. We’ll offer a very generous reward for information.”

Amon wasn’t sure he understood. “But…we’ll tell the queen the truth?”

His father looked him straight in the eyes. “No.”

Amon couldn’t believe it. His father, the soul of duty and propriety, was proposing a massive deception, one that could have dire consequences if it went bad. It would be perceived that the captain of the Guard had risked the princess heir to protect his son. It could be his career.

“Da! We can’t do that. If you’re found out…”

“Remember what I said. We are bound to preserve the line, no matter the cost. If this Cuffs knows who he holds, it will put the princess heir at greater risk. He might be frightened enough to kill her on the spot. He could carry her across the border and sell her off to some southern prince. Or align himself with the Gray Wolf’s enemies.”

“If she’s even still alive,” Amon forced himself to say. “It’s been hours and hours.”

“She’s alive,” his father said. “I would know if the line was broken. And you will too, once you’re truly named.” His father put his hand on Amon’s shoulder, stopping his questions. “I know the queen enrolled you in the Guard, but anyone can be enrolled, as I’ve said. This is different.”

He left it at that, but Amon was glad to take his father’s word for it. Glad he wouldn’t have to insert the language “If Raisa’s still alive” into every speculation.

“But…but how will we explain Raisa’s disappearance?” Amon persisted. He was half relieved he wouldn’t have to face the queen right away, half convinced this scheme would never work. “She must have been missed by now. They’re probably already in a panic.”

“Averill Demonai will help us,” his father said. “He’ll say Raisa’s gone back to Demonai Camp for a…a prenaming ritual. Very secret, very sacred. Lord Bayar will be furious, but we can live with that.” A smile ghosted over his face.

“Why would Averill do that? He’s her father. He has to be worried.”

“He’ll want to keep it secret for the same reasons we do—for the good of his daughter and the good of the line.”

“What would you have me do?” Amon asked humbly, knowing he deserved no role in this, but desperately desiring one.