He ghosted through the doorway to his rooms, closing and locking the door behind him.

Raisa ran into the outer chamber as the door gave way and four guards shouldered into the room, swords drawn. One of them was Amon.

They immediately surrounded Raisa, putting her to the inside of a circle bristling with steel. Other bluejacketed guards poured in behind him, fanning out through her suite of rooms.

“It’s over,” Raisa said wearily, swiping a splatter of blood from her face with the back of her hand. “There were three of them. One went through the window. The other two are in the bedroom. Dead.”

“Blood of the demon,” Amon swore, looking around the room, not relaxing his ready stance until he’d verified that there was no one available to kill.

Mick Bricker emerged from Raisa’s bedroom, an awestruck look on his face. “There’s two in there, just like Rebec—like Her Highness says. Both dead.”

Amon cocked his head, looking at Raisa. “You killed three assassins all by yourself?”

Raisa shrugged, avoiding the question. “Do you recognize them?”

Mick shook his head. “Never saw ’em before, but I don’t know everyone that’s in the Guard. There’s too many that are new.”

Raisa slumped quite suddenly into a chair. She couldn’t seem to stop shivering, and Amon took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It smelled like him, which soothed her.

“What happened to Talia and Trey?” she asked. “They were just outside as I came in.”

“They weren’t there,” Amon said. “I was going to ask if you knew what they…” His eyes widened, and he swung around and began barking orders, sending Mick out to look for the missing guards, two others to the guardhouse for reinforcements.

Then he sat down in a chair opposite Raisa. Leaning forward, he began, gently but relentlessly, to question her.

“How did they get in?” he asked. “Tell me everything.”

“I had ordered supper in my room. Someone knocked on the door and said she’d brought it up. When I opened the door, three of them rushed me.”

“Who did you talk to about supper? Who knew you were expecting someone?”

“I told Trey,” Raisa said. “I don’t know who he might have told. Obviously, the kitchen staff. One of them would have gone down and watched Mistress Barkleigh put the tray together. They could have waylaid him on the way back. His duty assignment’s no secret. It wouldn’t have been hard to figure out who the tray was for.”

Amon’s eyes strayed to the tray next to the door.

“There was no food,” Raisa said. “Only knives.”

Mick burst through the door, only to find himself faced with a prickling hedge of blades. When the Gray Wolves saw it was Mick, they dropped the tips of their swords.