“You don’t?” Frances retook her seat, delicately balancing the teacup in two manicured fingers. “You’ve made a great deal of conquest for a nonbeliever.”

“The truth is, Highness, I didn’t do it for any goal aside from my own advancement,” she admitted, sitting in a truth that wouldn’t have bothered her only a week before.

“Hardly better. If you’re not hells-bent on invasion, you’re cravenly fighting for your own personal glory. How does that make you trustworthy?”

“I’m not saying you ought to find me trustworthy.” Frances froze at that, but Scratch went on. “Your name, Princess Frances of Ivinscont—”

“There are a few more names in there, but go on.”

“Yes, Highness. Your name has always held meaning. You are the most recent in a long line of royals. I am not.” Her palms began to sweat. She carefully laid her hands flat on her thighs. “I believed I was worth nothing. That I had to achieve something great to mean anything at all.”

“And now?”

“Now.” She looked away, then back again. “Now I’m not quite sure, but I’m beginning to think I hold some value outside of my accomplishments.”

The princess took a perfectly executed sip of tea. “Where are you going with this, Keyes?”

“I’m telling you that I understand why you put me in the dungeon.” She paused for a beat, then, “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t have anyone advising you to do so last night.”

Frances set down her cup. It rattled, just slightly. “I had Maisie.”

“Your lover.” She spoke quickly, because Frances was beginning to redden. “She has no military experience.”

“She is a member of an organization that has effectively undermined the Ivinscontian royal family,” Frances replied tartly.

Her own family, but Scratch didn’t press the point. “So is Brella, but she has a blind spot where strategy is concerned. Neither Shae has spent any time in the castle. They haven’t dealt with the king or his advisors, nor do they know what it’s like to go to war.”

“And you do.” Frances leaned back, her gaze assessing. “I stand by what I said, by the way.”

Scratch knit her brows, thinking back over their conversation. “When do you mean, Your Highness?”

“In Ivinscont. When we smoked Roselap in that little alcove. Nice spot, by the way. I hadn’t known it was there.” She crossed her legs, resting the teacup on her delicate knee. “I knew a secret passage out of the dungeons, but I didn’t know about a little strip of grass on my own palace grounds. It’s odd what you miss when you don’t know to look.”

“I found it by accident,” Scratch admitted.

“I found it by following you. You know, I presume, that my father was on track to make you Lady Commander.”