“No,” Jainan said. He fell in beside Kiem as they went back to Internal

Security’s receptionist.

Kiem gave the receptionist his best smile. The security guard hovered by his shoulder. “Sorry, just got the details through from my aide. Chief Agent Rakal, please, and here’s the pin for their office.” He made a gesture that threw a tiny display from his wristband onto the desk. “I know we’re not on the list, but let them know I’m here, would you?”

“Your Highness—” the receptionist said, after exchanging uneasy glances with the security guard.

“Just—try the call, please,” Kiem said. “Tell them I was really obnoxious.

Tell them I’m going to rearrange through General Tegnar if Agent Rakal won’t see me, and then I’ll bring the general to the meeting.” He didn’t like bringing her name into it, but he remembered Jainan’s resigned acceptance about having his communications cut off, and it was enough to stifle that faint concern. “This isn’t your problem, I know. Put me through to Agent Rakal and it won’t be.”

“I’ll just—I’ll just contact their office,” the receptionist said, after trading another glance with the guard. Kiem nodded thanks and wandered away a couple of steps to join Jainan.

“General Tegnar?” Jainan murmured. “Is that your mother?”

“The one and only,” Kiem said. Jainan gave him a sideways look, evidently trying to square the picture of a successful general with the observed reality of Kiem. “Really let’s try not to get her involved, she’s based off-planet anyway. I don’t think she knew Taam. It will take her at least a month to find out I used her name.” The receptionist was holding out a speaker. Kiem strode over and took it.

“Hi!” he said. “Prince Kiem here to see you. It will only take a few minutes. I hope you’ve got a few minutes, because I’m going to be camping out here until you do.”

The voice at the other end was professionally noncommittal, but that seemed to do the trick. In a very short amount of time, a nervous-looking junior agent came out to usher them inside.

It wasn’t as exciting as Kiem had thought. Internal Security’s offices were like the administration areas outside, except slightly grayer and older-looking.

Kiem’s wristband buzzed against his skin and went dead. He glanced sideways to check how Jainan was doing but he needn’t have worried: however agitated Jainan might have been on the walk back, now his face was clean of all expression and he was a model of grace and poise.

Then Kiem caught sight of an agent turning a corner ahead of them, and stopped dead.

“Your Highness?” the junior agent said.

“I know her,” Kiem said. “I met her in the gardens outside our rooms last week. I thought she was a security guard.”

“I can’t comment on personnel, Your Highness,” the junior agent said apologetically. “This way, if you please?” While Kiem was still trying to work out how to ask Internal Security if they were spying on him, she brought them to a door at the end of the corridor, scanned her bios—retina and hand movement—