“Do I have the honor of addressing Dr. Miranda Ecouvo?” His voice suited him. It was only a shade deeper than the average male voice, but more remarkable for its resonance which, though perhaps unusual coming from such a slight frame, matched his authority and self-possession.

“Yes,” said Miranda. She glanced to the side, about to ask Fae silently if she knew the person, but to her astonishment, the small hallway was empty. Muffled noises behind her suggested Fae had fled to the kitchen. She frowned in puzzlement and continued, “And you are . . . ?”

He paused for a beat before saying calmly, “I am Julian Outis.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

She stared at him. There could be no greater contrast between the pictures she had seen of the round-faced, disheveled, pale, and balding author and this slender, angular man with every thread and hair in place and skin like that of the gilded angels painted on the walls and ceiling of the City Basilica.

He smiled very gently, as if understanding her confusion. “I am the real Julian Outis.”

Miranda still stared, not knowing how to respond to this. There was a false Julian Outis? His expression grew apologetic at her obvious bewilderment.

“I am the real Julian Outis in the sense of what he is thought to be: an author of some successful works of fiction. I am not the public face of Julian Outis, an actor hired to carry out the duties of promotion and publicity. In other circles, I am called—”

“—Anrheis Do-silva Moreira, son of the Jaguar Emperor, fifth prince of Gurya of the Hill Kingdoms,” Fae said softly, appearing quietly behind Miranda.

The prince looked at her, once more giving that split-second blink of shock. He recovered, exhaled, and smiled ruefully. “In the City, most people call me Reis. Please, I would prefer if you did the same.”

Miranda found her tongue. “I—I think you’d better come inside.”