I forced myself to ease back into my chair, as if I didn’t care what happened to him. “The graveyards of Eruvia are full of powerful men who thought they could predict what the doge and the Council would or wouldn’t dare.” I shrugged my stiff shoulders. “But that’s irrelevant. You won’t do any of that, because it would be uncouth. A gentleman does not make a scene and ruin a party thrown in his own honor.”

“Ah.” Ruven nodded thoughtfully. “You make a fine point, Lady Amalia.”

He released the servant at last. I glimpsed a red handprint on the man’s wrist before he pulled it into his sleeve. He bowed to the prince and bent to clean up the teapot, as if the threat of death were a normal part of his workday.

Perhaps it was. I resolved never to move to Vaskandar, even if Raverra sank into the sea and the rest of the Empire were on fire.

“So,” I said brightly—anything to draw his attention away from the servant until he could get out of here—“My reading suggests most vivomancers can only affect plants and animals, and even those whose powers work on humans do so only weakly. But you specialize in them?”

“Indeed.” Ruven stretched his spine straight, like a satisfied cat. “What you call vivomancy originated in Vaskandar. We have few other types of mages—perhaps a handful of alchemists and artificers, and no warlocks. But in the magic of life itself, we are stronger than any other land in Eruvia, and we deepen our power with a specialty. Furwitches and Greenwitches feel a connection to lesser forms of life, and often claim that bending their skill upon humans is uncomfortable, or even revolting. But I find working human flesh has certain … advantages.”

Was that a leer? I fought the urge to scoot my chair back a few inches. “So your focus on humans is a choice, or perhaps a calling, rather than an inborn trait like being a storm or fire warlock.”

“Ah, yes, fire warlocks.” Ruven’s eyes narrowed. “I do believe yours is the only one currently alive in Eruvia, you know. Such a lucky catch.”

I didn’t feel lucky. “The Serene Empire is fortunate to have her.”

“Not so fortunate for her, though.” He produced a sigh. “If only she’d been born in my country. We are not so backward as your Empire. Our mage-marked are not slaves. In Vaskandar, we rule.”

“Falcons aren’t slaves. Unless you consider soldiers to be slaves. Raverra gives them orders no differently than it does to the rest of the military. Their Falconers don’t own them, or even outrank them. They stay with their Falcons to protect them.”

Ruven smirked knowingly. “Except you.”