“Nothing serious yet. The young duke is testing his limits. You should pay more attention to the world around you, Amalia.”

Her gaze traveled over my clothes, and my empty satchel, before arresting at my hand.

“What happened to you?” she demanded, rising from her desk.

I tucked my hand into my coat. “She was on fire, Mamma.”

She crossed the room and lifted my hand out of hiding, tenderly. I tried not to wince.

“I’m fine.”

“You will be,” my mother agreed. “But that must hurt. We’ll have it seen to.”

She brushed loose hair from my face, bringing locks up as if to style it. By the look in her eyes, it was a hopeless effort. She let my hair drop, smiling at me almost sadly.

“Remember, Amalia. You are my heir. That comes before any other responsibilities life may thrust upon you, including those of a Falconer. Stick to that, above all else, no matter what he tries to get you to agree to.”

“He?”

“The doge, of course.”

The doge. Of course. Sometimes my mother and I seemed to be having two unrelated conversations.

She gave my singed clothes another glance, frowning. “Go get dressed, girl. And don’t forget your elixir.”

“I never forget my elixir.”

“Evidently, given you’re still alive.” My mother leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on my forehead. The scent of her perfume, as delicate and complex as one of her intrigues, enfolded me. “I’d like to keep you that way. Be careful, child.”

“Of course, Mamma.”

“Now, go change. It’s going to be a long day.”

When my mother told me to get dressed, I knew she meant in attire more suitable for the heir to one of the Council of Nine—the secretive body that, together with the doge, wielded the true power in Raverra. The Assembly made the laws, certainly; but the Council controlled the military, intelligence, and diplomatic services, and had final say in all matters of justice, foreign policy, and the security of the Empire. All nine members had once been elected from the Assembly, but over the centuries, the Empire’s most powerful families had permanently claimed four of the seats, making them hereditary. I’d been confirmed as my mother’s successor before I was born.

Why governing the Serene Empire should preclude comfortable trousers, however, I couldn’t say. I dutifully pulled a gown from my wardrobe and laid it across the bed; but the corset laced up the back, and I was the only one in the room. So I wound up sprawled on my stomach next to it, reading my new book.