“We ruled Ardence, once. Before it joined the Empire. But the Bergandons betrayed my ancestors, and took the ducal throne—as, to be fair, the Savony family had taken it from others. It was an unsettled time.” She frowned at a painting of a battle scene, full of movement and chaos and the rolling eyes of frightened horses. “My ancestors were wise, however. Instead of seeking vengeance, they swore service to the city they could no longer rule, but could still nurture and protect. Since then we have always served Ardence, often as stewards or other positions more pragmatic than glorious. We never receive credit for what we have done, but we seek none; our sole concern is the welfare of Ardence. We have run this city, as much as any duke, and under our watch it has flourished.” She took a sharp breath through her nose. “So I will not allow the current dissolute batch of nobles to ruin my city with their lack of prudence. I would rather see Ardence under direct imperial rule than see it destroyed.”

“I don’t want to see it destroyed, either.” It occurred to me that Lady Savony probably knew Ardence better than any of my own friends, or the duke himself. “To save Ardence, we need to find the kidnapped heirs. They’re either being held in the city or were smuggled out. Either way, a number of people were involved, posing as Falconers and moving the children, who knew the city well enough to disappear into it. Who would have access to that manner of person, both unscrupulous and discreet? Spymasters? Criminal lords? Someone in Ardence must have an idea who could have done it.”

“You think like a Raverran.” She shook her head; her dark hair, pulled back tightly to her scalp, did not so much as stir. “Ardence is less versed in such subtleties.”

“You can’t tell me there’s no one.”

Lady Savony considered me a moment. Then she flipped open her little notebook and started scribbling. “We don’t have an intelligence service per se, but a few people investigate things for me from time to time. There is a gossip sheet whose editor seems remarkably well informed. One or two smugglers and proprietors of gambling dens do occasionally provide us with information. And the Shadow Gentry may have relevant connections, as well.”

She tore a page out of her notebook and handed me a list of about a dozen names in an elegant, loopy script, with brief identifying notes beside each. “We are already searching for the children, naturally, but should you wish to pursue your own investigation, I would begin with these people. Some might point you in the right direction; others you should consider suspects.”