Jainan stared at the floor. “I don’t think she was involved,” he said. “I don’t have proof. I just don’t think so.”

Aren looked at them both dubiously, then at his screen.

“Let me have another look at your network logs,” Jainan said. “Please.”

There was something defensive in it, as if he expected to be turned down, but Aren made an expansive gesture and said, “Carry on. Lunver’s not here for a few hours. Might as well knock yourself out.”

Jainan was quiet as they left Aren’s tiny office. Kiem stopped himself from saying three different things, all inappropriate, and settled for “I should set off for the school.” He opened the door to their makeshift guest room. “I’ll just grab my trunk. See you at the palace.”

Jainan blinked, as if he’d forgotten Kiem was going to Braska. “Oh—” he said, then looked down at his wristband, which was pinging, and went very still.

“Who is it?” Kiem said, but Jainan was already opening the call, with an expression as if the prompt were a nesting bird about to attack.

The face that hovered in front of him was familiar: Kiem had just seen it above Aren’s desk. An older female academic with clips holding back her graying hair. Of course. Kiem had seen Jainan talking to Audel and her students nearly every day.

“Jainan,” Audel exclaimed in apparent pleasure. “I was trying to get hold of you.”

Jainan swallowed and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He nodded.

“Good to see you, Professor.” Kiem stepped into view so Jainan’s wristband would pick him up. “We’re out in the mountains.” Was it urgent? he was about to say, but changed his question midflight, on a hunch: “Can I ask you a quick question?” he said easily. “Did you know Prince Taam?”

Audel frowned. “Un fortunately,” she said. “Why? I suppose Jainan could have told you that.”

“You don’t seem to have told him,” Kiem said.

“Oh,” Audel said vaguely, “I thought I had. But of course—who do you think the project applied to for the data? It was all a bit awkward, of course, given my

last job. I still don’t think the man could get drunk in a distillery—I beg your pardon,” she said, breaking off contritely. “I’m sorry, Jainan, I forgot you were there.”

“You were discharged from the military,” Jainan said, his voice rough.

“Why?”

“Well,” Audel said, still looking uncomfortable. “Technically Prince Taam, you know. He questioned some of my results; they made his unit look bad. But Prince Taam wasn’t actually the root cause. I knew I wasn’t suited to it from about week two. A bad decision on my part, but they do have all the funding. I tried to resign several times. The last time was a month before it all kicked off.”

“You … were trying to leave the military anyway?” Jainan said. “It wasn’t because of Taam?”