“I’m offended he didn’t demand fifty. This was not a royal conspiracy. Bastian was trying to do it on the cheap. He was woefully misinformed about your . . . your vulnerability.” At this, he gave her one of his proud, fatherly smiles. By now, there were nearly a thousand Oath Maidens spread across the kingdom—women who had come to Averanche to be tutored in the arts of war by Staeli and to leave as warriors.

Trynne stared down at the yard again. The men who were gathered there had come expecting to earn a small pouch of coins for helping kidnap the Lady of Averanche. Instead, they’d been caught off guard, surrounded, and abducted by a group of highly trained women. She shifted her gaze to the Oath Maidens. There was Gillian from the Brythonican town of Passey. Haley from Dundrennan. That girl could throw a spear unlike anyone else. Maciel, who was the daughter of a sanctuary thief but had been raised by a kindhearted family. Brooke was one of the best fighters of the bunch. Emilia was a master archer. Savanne could throw down any boy her size. Camellia had shown aptitude to be an Espion, perhaps even a poisoner. There were dozens more, each with a story of how they had come to be there. They were not all equal in talent, but they had all defied tradition by seeking to defend their kingdom. She realized that they would soon be given that chance.

“What would you have me do with the poisoner?” Staeli asked in a low, meaningful tone. She recognized the tone of his voice, the implication wrapped up in his question.

She thought of the gaunt fellow she had captured and how ready he had been to stab her and claim his fee. How many girls had he abducted in the past? Where were they now? The thought filled her with such revulsion she couldn’t prevent an angry frown.

Turning to Captain Staeli, she said, “I’d like the mayor to interrogate him, Captain. See if he can learn anything about his past victims. When he can no longer provide us with any useful information, have the mayor put him to death.” She gave him a determined look. It was her right as the ruler of Averanche to invoke such a penalty. But if she could restore any of the captured children back to their families, she would.

“Aye, lass,” he said, nodding at her in approval. Then, giving her a wry smile, he said, “You’ve had a busy day. What will tomorrow bring?”

“I wish I knew,” Trynne said, rubbing the chill from her arms. “I’m going back to Ploemeur, though. There are things I must speak to my mother about, even if it pains me.”