“Assigning them a guard might be too obvious.” Vasante chewed her lip. “I suppose Lieutenant Verdi could stick with them as much as possible, and pass himself off as a family friend rather than an official guard.”

My mother’s eyebrow twitched. “That’s one solution.”

The doge grunted. “Take what steps you see fit to ensure their safety,” he told the colonel. “But frankly, I think a fire warlock is protection enough. Lady Amalia, if anyone attacks you or Zaira in Ardence, you have my permission to unleash your Falcon within the city to defend yourself.”

I bobbed a stiff curtsy, too queasy to manage more than a “Yes, Your Serenity.”

He turned to Marcello. “Lieutenant Verdi.”

Marcello bowed, his eyes widening in panic at being addressed directly. “Yes, Your Serenity?”

“You will be the ranking officer of the Falcons in Ardence for this mission. Do you feel up to the task?”

He jerked his head in a nod. “Yes, Your Serenity.”

“You will have full responsibility for assuring the safety of Lady Amalia and our fire warlock, investigating the false Falconer incident, and overseeing the artifice projects at the garrison that the colonel outlined for you.”

Marcello bowed again. “Of course, Your Serenity.”

The doge lifted a finger. “If Ardence initiates any violence—against the Falcons, the garrison, our diplomats, the Serene Envoy—or declares independence, or engages in any other act of open rebellion, you may consult with me via the garrison courier lamps if there is time. But if the situation is pressing, you do not need to contact the Imperial Palace. You may consider it an act of war and respond with the full force at your disposal. Do you understand?”

Marcello’s throat jumped. “Yes, Your Serenity.”

“You have also heard what I will require of you if, after all our best efforts, the duke of Ardence still refuses to heed the Serene Envoy, revoke the illegal taxes, and comply with the Serene Accords.”

Marcello nodded, looking ill.

The doge held his eyes. “You accept the burden, if necessary, of starting a war?”

I strained against my own closed lips to speak—to support Marcello, or to stop him. This was too much to put on his shoulders. The colonel should step in and offer to take his place. But she merely watched him, assessing.

A struggle passed like racing cloud shadows over Marcello’s face. Finally, he nodded again, with slow gravity, as if his head weighed more coming up than it had going down. “Yes. I do.”

I touched the cold metal of my falcon’s-head brooch. Now that he’d taken this madness willingly into his own hand, he couldn’t set it down again; it was too late.

“That settles Ardence,” the doge said with apparent satisfaction. “Colonel Vasante can give you the full military briefing, and Lady Terringer can fill you in on the diplomatic efforts. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”