“For how long?” Micah asked. “Don’t you think that those who tried to kill you would have tried again?”

“You would know better than me,” Raisa said. “What’s the plan, going forward?” She leaned toward him, as if he might really answer.

Micah glanced at Amon and Han, and Raisa knew he hated holding this discussion in front of this particular audience. “What I did at Oden’s Ford was for your protection. Even if you managed to stay alive, had you not returned, the Princess Mellony would have been named princess heir, and maybe queen by now.”

“Well, that would have worked well for you, wouldn’t it, since she seems to be smitten with you,” Raisa said.

“I am not pursuing your sister,” he said, rising to his feet. “I am telling you to take very good care, Raisa. Please.” He bowed. “Welcome home, Your Highness. I will call upon you again.” He nodded at Han and Amon. “Gentlemen. Using that term loosely, of course.”

And so he left, leaving Raisa more confused than enlightened.

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - S E V E N

ON THE LOOSE
IN THE PALACE

Fellsmarch Castle was like a small city in itself, familiar to Han in unexpected ways. The servants’ corridors reminded him of Ragmarket’s back alleys, where you could travel long distances unobserved by most. The audience chambers and salons were like large public squares, where the bluebloods gathered to make show and catch the attention of their rivals.

Han explored the palace and the close, mapping it in his head as he had Ragmarket and Southbridge.

True to her word, Raisa had moved Han into an apartment next to hers—Magret Gray’s former quarters. She didn’t have much choice of places to put him, because her room was fairly isolated in one of the gateway towers, beneath the glass gardens on the roof.

The glass gardens where Alger Waterlow once trysted with Hanalea, the warrior queen.

Seeming immune to Magret’s scandalized disapproval, Raisa relocated her nurse into quarters in the other gateway tower, some distance down the hall. The Maiden haunted the corridors at all hours like a tall stately spook with a lantern and long gray braid.

Magret made it clear that she detested Han—that she blamed him for what happened to Velvet. It was too bad because Han rather liked the iron-spined nurse. He still had hopes of winning her over—but maybe he was fooling himself.