Fetnalla smiled. "I told him that I had as much chance of predicting your actions as I did of predicting storms in the planting turns."

"Good. I had an interesting conversation with him as well." Once more, as she had for her duke several days before, Evanthya described her discussion with Pronjed, relating to Fetnalla not only his questions about Tounstrel and Noltierre but also his comments about the regent and their mutual distrust.

"You think he's a traitor," Fetnalla said when Evanthya had finished.

"I think it's possible. You thought so after Carden's death. You even guessed that he had mind-bending magic."

"I remember."

"What if you were right? I found myself telling him things that I hadn't intended, as if he were forcing me to reveal more than I wanted. Perhaps he did kill Carden."

"What are you suggesting?"

She opened her arms wide. "Isn't it obvious? I believe Pronjed is a traitor, and I think he's pushing the regent toward this war with Eibithar as a way of further weakening the Eandi courts."

"You don't know this for certain."

"I'm certain enough. Think about the questions he asked us. He's trying to make certain that all of Aneira's dukes support the alliance, yet he's clearly concerned that they won't. Why? Because if they give it any thought at all, they'll see that a war with Eibithar would be disastrous, even if we join with the empire."

"Listen to yourself, Evanthya! That's not proof that he's a traitor. Isn't it possible that he's merely using poor judgment, that both he and Numar have been seduced by this notion of an alliance with Harel?"

"I don't think so," Evanthya said. "Not after what he said about the regent."

"Maybe he was lying about that."

"To what end? If he only wished to win Tebeo's support for the war he would have spoken as the regent's man. But he didn't, in fact he made a point of telling me that Numar didn't trust him, that he was speaking to me without the regent's knowledge. I believe he was testing my loyalty. He might even have hoped to turn me to his cause."

Fetnalla turned away again, the look of barely controlled panic returning to her face. "Pronjed scares me. If he really does have delusion magic, he's too dangerous a foe, at least for us alone."

Evanthya smiled, touching Fetnalla's soft cheek so that the woman would meet her gaze again. "That's the beauty of what I'm proposing. We won't be standing against him alone. I'm merely suggesting that we serve our dukes as we would anyway. We have to tell them that this war is a mistake and should be opposed. I've already said as much to Tebeo. No doubt he and Brall are discussing the matter as we speak."

"I don't know that Brall will listen to me."

"Of course he will, especially because his closest ally will be telling him just what you are. Don't you see, Fetnalla? If we do this right, we can deal the conspiracy another blow and prove our loyalty at the same time."

A tear appeared on Fetnalla's cheek, shimmering in the moonlight as it rolled over her white skin. "You make it sound so easy."

"It can be."

"No, it can't, not anymore, not with what Brall has done to me." She dabbed her cheek with the edge of her sleeve. "It almost doesn't matter what I tell him anymore. If I advise him to withhold his men from Solkara's army, he won't do it. He'll be convinced that this is what the conspiracy wants me to say. It won't matter that Tebeo agrees with me, because he'll know that you offered the same counsel, and since you're Qirsi, you're suspect in his eyes as well."

Evanthya felt her patience waning. It wasn't like Fetnalla to surrender so easily, and though she didn't doubt that Brall's suspicions and his spies had taken their toll, she knew as well that she couldn't do this alone.

"Then what do you propose we do?" she asked.

"I told you before, I don't know. What you're suggesting makes sense. I just . . ." She exhaled, shaking her head again.

"You're frightened."

"Very. More than I've ever been."

"I'll do everything I can to protect you, from Brall and from the conspiracy." She kissed her once more. "You know that I'd give my life if it meant saving yours."

"Yes, I do. I just don't want it to come to that."

Evanthya took her hands again. They were shaking. She raised Fetnalla's fingers to her lips, kissing them gently. It was strange. For so long, Fetnalla had been the brave one, leading Evanthya into this battle, helping her overcome fears and doubts much like those to which she was giving voice now.

"It won't," she said, trying to sound strong and certain. "Do as I tell you, and we'll be fine. I promise."

Fetnalla's shivering seemed only to grow more violent. Evanthya frowned.

"Let's get you to your chamber," she said. "You're cold, and you look like you haven't been sleeping."

Fetnalla nodded. "Yes. I need to sleep." She regarded Evanthya for a moment, tilting her head to the side as she often did when she grinned. Her expression remained grim, however, and there was an apology in her eyes. "I'm sorry you can't join me, but with Brall's spies about . . ."

"I understand. Perhaps we'll find time to steal away before the duke and I return to Dantrielle."

Fetnalla nodded, though she looked doubtful. "I'd like that."

They walked back to the castle and wound their way through the corridors to Fetnalla's chamber. Evanthya saw no soldiers, but several times she heard boots scraping on the stone floors just ahead of them, only to turn a corner and find the hallway empty. By the time she had said goodnight to Fetnalla and walked hurriedly back to her own chamber on the other side of the ward, Evanthya no longer doubted that Fetnalla was being watched, as were those who consorted with her.

Weary from her journey, lonely for her love, Evanthya fell quickly into a fitful slumber, only to awaken what seemed a short time later to the sound of knocking at her door. Rising and wrapping herself in her robe, she crossed to the door.

"Who's there?" she called.

"Your duke," came the reply. "It's past midmorning, First Minister. Lord Orvinti and I are about to meet in his chambers and we'd like you and Fetnalla to be there."

Evanthya pulled the door open, smoothing her white hair. "I'll be along shortly, my lord, but I'm afraid Fetnalla isn't with me."

His eyes widened slightly. "Do you know where she is?"

"I haven't seen her since I left her last night. Isn't she in her quarters?"

"No. That's why I came here."

She felt herself blanch. "Does Lord Orvinti know that you've come to me?"

Tebeo took a breath, wincing slightly. "Yes, he does. I told him about the two of you last night."

She had to resist an urge to rail at him. What right did he have to share her secret with Brall? An instant later she realized that he wouldn't see it that way. Fetnalla was Orvinti's minister, just as she was his. Certainly Brall had as much right to know of their love as Tebeo did. The Qirsi were not chattel, but as ministers in the Eandi courts they did sacrifice certain freedoms, such as the right to share a bed with the ministers of rival nobles. It would have been within Tebeo's authority to demand that she end her affair with Fetnalla as soon as he learned of it. Allowing it to continue had been an act of kindness. Evanthya doubted that Brall would be so generous.

"You're angry with me," the duke said, his eyes meeting hers.

It would have been useless to deny it. "I have no right to be, my lord."

"Brall was displeased with me last night when I sent the two of you away. He was convinced that you would be plotting behind our backs. I thought it better that he know the truth."

"I think you're probably right, my lord."

"Unfortunately, this brings us no closer to finding Fetnalla." He rubbed a hand across his brow, as he often did when concerned. "Would she have gone to the city for any reason?"

"It's certainly possible, my lord. We didn't speak of her plans for the day, nor did we know that you and Lord Orvinti wished to speak with us this morning. She might have gone to the marketplace without realizing that her duke would be looking for her." She hesitated. "I take it Lord Orvinti is scouring the castle for her."

He gave a wan smile. "I'm afraid he is. I tried to assure him last night that Fetnalla serves him loyally, but he's even more disturbed by what he hears of the conspiracy than I am. This will do nothing to put his fears to rest. The sooner we find her, the better for all concerned."

Evanthya nodded, trying to think of where Fetnalla might have gone. She thought it strange that the minister would leave the castle at all. It was true that they hadn't known when the dukes would wish to speak with them, but Evanthya had assumed it would be this morning. Indeed, she had intended to be awake far earlier than this, expecting that they would all meet with the ringing of the midmorning bells. Fetnalla should have expected the same. She also should have known better than to leave the castle when her duke had guests, particularly in light of Brall's suspicions. This was not like her at all.

She was about to say as much to Tebeo, when she heard a voice calling for him. A moment later a guard stepped into the corridor, breathless and flushed.

"They found her, my lord," the man said. "She was walking the gardens. She's with the duke now." His eyes flicked toward Evanthya. "They're waiting for you both."

Evanthya closed her eyes for an instant, surprised by how relieved she felt, or rather, how frightened she had been.

"Thank you," Tebeo said to the man. "Tell Lord Orvinti we'll be joining them shortly."

"Yes, my lord." The man bowed once and left them.

"I'll dress as quickly as I can, my lord."

"Very well. I'll wait."

Evanthya started to close the door, but Tebeo spoke her name, stopping her.

"For what it's worth, Brall took the news of your . . . of you and Fetnalla rather well. He agreed with me that so long as he and I remain allies, and the two of you continue to serve us well, your private lives are none of our concern."

She nodded. That was a relief as well, though a part of her couldn't help feeling that they shouldn't have needed permission from their dukes to be in love. "Thank you, my lord. I'm glad to hear that."

It took Evanthya but a few moments to dress and soon she and her duke were making their way through Orvinti's corridors to Brall's chambers.

The door was open when they arrived. Brall sat at his writing table, looking at a large ledger by the light of several candles. Fetnalla stood at the hearth, her back to the duke, her color high.

Brall looked up as Tebeo and Evanthya stepped into the room and immediately closed the volume.

"Our apologies for keeping you waiting," Tebeo said, smiling first at the other duke and then at Fetnalla, who didn't appear to notice.

"And my apologies as well for sleeping so late," Evanthya added, hoping to deflect some of Brall's anger away from Fetnalla. "I must have been more weary from our travels than I knew."

"No apology is necessary," Brall said, a sour smile on his lips. He indicated the chairs near where Fetnalla was standing. "Please sit. First Minister, can I offer you something to eat?"

Evanthya shook her head as she lowered herself into the nearest chair. "No thank you, my lord."

"Some tea perhaps?"

She forced a smile, sensing that his courtesy was merely a mask for other sentiments. Suspicion, distaste, anger. There had been a time when Evanthya actually liked Fetnalla's duke, seeing him as a man much like her own duke; honorable, kind, though perhaps gruffer than Tebeo and not quite so wise. But it seemed that his fine qualities had been overwhelmed by his growing distrust of the Qirsi.

"Tea would be fine, my lord."

He rang a bell on his table, and almost immediately a door on the side wall of the chamber opened, revealing a young servant.

"Some tea, and some pastries as well."

The boy bowed, pulling the door closed once more.

"Lord Dantrielle has told me of your counsel, First Minister," Brall said, sitting across from her. "He tells me as well that you fear this coming war with Eibithar."

"I do, my lord."

"The prospect of a civil war doesn't frighten you more?"

"These are difficult times, my lord. Every possible path presents unique risks, and unique opportunities as well."

He wrinkled his brow, looking puzzled. "Opportunities," he repeated. "What an interesting choice of words. Opportunities for whom, First Minister?"

She heard the insinuation in his question and glanced for a moment at Fetnalla, who continued to stand before the fire, as if ignoring their conversation.

"I believe," Tebeo broke in, "that Evanthya sees an opportunity in this course of action for all who feel as we do, that Numar's alliance with the empire will lead Aneira to ruin."

Brall frowned at the duke, as if annoyed by the interruption. He opened his mouth, no doubt to question her further, only to be stopped by the return of his servant with the tea. By the time the boy had finished pouring out cups for all of them, which took several moments, Brall's face had turned a mild shade of purple.

Finishing with the tea, the boy faced his duke once more. "Will there be anything else, mya"?"

"No! Leave us!"

The servant bowed again and hurried from the room.

The duke of Orvinti exhaled heavily and looked at Tebeo. "Where were we?" he asked.

Evanthya picked up her teacup, pleased to see that her hands remained steady. "You were asking me about my counsel to Lord Dantrielle, my lord. I believe you were trying to determine where my loyalties lie."

"Evanthya!" Tebeo said, glaring at her.

Fetnalla eyed her as well, her expression unreadable.

"Forgive me, my lord," Evanthya said, facing Tebeo, so that all in the room would know for whom the apology was intended. "But Lord Orvinti's intent was clear enough to compel an answer from you in my defense. I feel I have little choice but to respond."

"You're offended easily, First Minister," Brall said.

"Not at all, my lord. But you think me a traitor, as you do all Qirsi. I merely wish to assure you that I serve my duke and my house faithfully and that I offered this counsel to Lord Dantrielle believing fully that this was the correct course of action. If you choose to reject my counsel, you should do so knowing that."

She chanced a quick glance at Tebeo, and though the duke sat tight-lipped, still appearing angry, he nodded once, as if to tell her that he understood. Fetnalla still had not said a word, nor did she now.

"I don't think that all Qirsi are traitors," Brall said, sounding sullen.

"But you treat those who serve you as if they are."

The duke leveled a rigid finger at her as he would a blade. "It's not your place to tell me how to treat my ministers! I don't care whose bed you share!"

Fetnalla stiffened, all color draining from her cheeks.