“He did?” Magret said, flustered. “Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day, young men inviting themselves into a young girl’s room in the middle of the night.” She studied him for signs of depravity, then shook her head. “Well, come ahead, then.”

“Magret,” Raisa said desperately, “I need to go back to the party. Corporal Byrne has kidnapped me and dragged me back here against my will.”

“Is that so?” Magret eyed Amon with new hostility.

“It’s so,” Amon said, with that direct Byrne look that could be so convincing. “But it was on Lord Demonai’s orders. He’ll be here soon.”

“Well,” Magret said grudgingly, “she can’t go back to the party if she’s sick, can she?”

Amon shook his head solemnly. “No, doesn’t seem wise.”

Raisa hated both of them.

“Come,” Magret said, pulling her toward the bed chamber. “Let’s get you into your bath, dearie.” When Amon made as if to follow, Magret straight-armed him. “You sit here by the fire, Corporal Byrne.”

“Lord Demonai told me to keep a close eye on her until he came,” Amon said stubbornly. “She’s not herself.”

Magret scowled at him. “Where’s she going to get off to, with you out here by the door?” she said.

“I gave my word,” Amon said, and Raisa knew he was thinking of the passage that led from the closet to the garden. He wasn’t about to give her the chance to escape that way. Raisa cursed the day she’d shared that secret with him.

Amon displayed the usual Byrne boneheadedness, and in the end, Magret put up a screen around Raisa’s tub, and Amon plunked himself down in a chair next to the window. It seemed strange to know he was just on the other side of the screen when she had no clothes on.

Once she was pronounced clean, Magret helped her into her nightgown, and Raisa emerged from behind the screen to find Amon, his shirt off, wet hair sticking up, scrubbing down using a basin and pitcher. His broad shoulders and muscular arms shone in the firelight. This image reverberated with memories of Micah Bayar’s planed face and dark eyes until Raisa thought she might be sick again.

“Sweet martyred lady!” Magret said, actually blushing and closing her eyes to shut out the view, then opening them again and peeking back at Amon. “Come, Your Highness, let’s get you into bed.”

Raisa had just climbed under the covers when there was a knock at the outer door. Magret gave Amon the evil eye of warning and went to answer.

It was her father, Averill, and her grandmother, Elena, both still in their clan ceremonial robes from Micah’s party. Elena carried a beaded remedy bag.

“Thank you for your help,” Elena said to Magret, and somehow maneuvered the nurse out the door. Then she crossed to Raisa’s bedside.