Maybe we could distract each other. “Uncle Ignazio?”

He looked up from his lap, his brooding expression easing. “Yes, Amalia?”

“This must be difficult for you, returning to Ardence so soon. I’m sorry.”

He laughed shortly. “It’s more awkward for Lady Terringer than it is for me. It may look to some as if the doge is sending me to clean up her mess.”

“Is she likely to be resentful?” That could be a problem, given I would need to work with her. I couldn’t imagine she’d be pleased to find her predecessor watching over her shoulder.

Ignazio shrugged. “I’ll stay out of her way. I’ll be so quiet she’ll hardly notice I’m in Ardence. And if she’s bothered anyway, well, it would be foolish of her to let it affect her dealings with you. You’ll be giving her orders someday, after all … in the event my cousin ever takes it into her head to retire.”

“I’ll die of old age first.” It was my best hope.

Zaira’s raucous laugh sounded above the creaks and rumble of the coach. Ignazio frowned. “She’s rather exposed up in the coachman’s box. I wish she’d accepted my invitation to join us in here.”

“Oh, she’s safe enough from assassins.” I lowered my voice. “The doge wouldn’t move his only fire warlock into danger without defenses. The boning of her bodice and the pins in her hair are artifice-warded runesteel. The first two or three musket balls would bounce off her like pebbles off a tile roof.”

“Truly.” Interest kindled in Ignazio’s eyes. “What did they use for a power source? I didn’t think it was possible to create a kinetic shield small enough to carry on one’s person.”

This was why I liked my uncle Ignazio. He spoke my language. Even if his knowledge of magical theory was weak outside of alchemy, he understood the core principles. “Warlocks are their own source of magical energy. The doge’s personal artificer created it; it’s linked to Zaira’s power. I gather it’s not uncommon for high-value Falcons working in dangerous areas to have such protections.”

“Impressive. And a shame those of us without such reserves of magical power can’t use them.” No bitterness colored Ignazio’s voice, but a frown flickered across his brow. My mother said it still stung him that his glimmer of alchemical talent wasn’t enough to mark his eyes and land him in the Mews. “It would take a great deal of effort and skill to create such devices. The doge must value her highly.”

“He values his plan highly.” I slouched in my seat. “I’m not sure he values people at all.”