Vambasta had barely settled at the mess-hall table before Lenora asked why she was there.
The pink wolf looked past her at the servants carrying trays between the benches.
“Seraphine needed someone to protect her. Apparently that became my problem.”
Vemi lowered herself into the next seat with a worried glance at her sister. Across the table, Ace moved her cup out of the space Vambasta’s elbow was about to occupy. Vespera watched the room while Lewd sat close to the end of the bench, Blight Vein held against her knees.
The mess hall was busy enough to make a private conversation difficult. It was also full of people who carefully avoided looking toward their table for too long.
Lenora suspected the second fact mattered more than the first.
My sister is driving that mouse girl to distraction, Pyro remarked inside her thoughts.
She ignored him and kept her attention on Vambasta.
“How did protecting Seraphine become your problem?”
“She would not let Queen visit her family. I objected.”
Vemi looked at her.
Vambasta sighed. “I picked her up while objecting. She agreed to let Queen leave if I covered her duties until she came back.”
“And you agreed?”
“She let Queen go, did she not?”
Vemi rested her paws on the table.
“Your power is only beginning to return properly. You do not have to prove everything works by using all of it at once.”
“I am sitting down.”
“For now.”
Vambasta leaned back. “I am fine, Vemi. You worry too much.”
“I worry because you are my sister. What do you think our brother and the other two would say if they knew you had been beaten out of your alpha form?”
Vambasta’s expression changed.
For a moment, the noise of the mess hall seemed to move farther away. She remembered Mk2 meeting her strength without yielding, then the awful failure of the shape she had trusted to keep her above anything that could frighten her.
Vemi remembered what came afterward: the trembling Vambasta tried to hide and the anger she used when hiding it failed.
“I am going to find that doll,” Vambasta said. “And when I do, I am going to break it into pieces.”
Her fist struck the table.
Wood split beneath it. A cup jumped, spilled, and rolled toward Ace, who caught it before it reached the edge. Vambasta withdrew her hand from the hole she had made.
Conversation stopped at the nearest tables.
Vemi closed her eyes briefly.
“That is what I meant.”
Vambasta looked at the broken boards, then away.
Vespera exhaled and set down the cup she had been holding clear of the impact.
“I would appreciate one conversation that does not end with someone demonstrating why the guards are nervous.”
Ace glanced at the collar around her sister’s neck.
Vespera noticed.
“Do not start.”
“I did not say anything.”
“You were considering it.”
Lenora pushed a folded cloth against the spilled drink before it could reach Lewd’s lap.
Vespera looked toward the inner corridors.
“The magic in this place is wrong. It was wrong at the gate, and it followed me farther inside. Now Vaeloria has Derpy and Riven in her chambers, and no one here can tell me what she intends to do with either of them.”
“We have asked to be told when he wakes,” Lenora said.
“Asking does not seem to have earned us much.”
Lewd rubbed a hand through her red hair. Her fingers caught in it, and she pulled them free with several loose strands still between them.
Vemi reached across and laid a furry paw against her forearm.
“Lewd, are you all right?”
She blinked, looking down at the hand as though she had not felt it arrive.
“I am okay.”
Vemi waited.
Lewd’s mouth tightened.
“I am hurting. That is all.”
Lenora leaned closer.
“When you see him, tell him that. You do not have to explain it perfectly, but keeping it buried will not make the conversation easier.”
Lewd pulled her arm back.
“I said I was fine.”
She stood before Lenora could answer, drawing Blight Vein against her chest. The bench scraped loudly enough to renew the attention Vambasta’s fist had attracted.
Lewd left without looking at any of them.
Are you going after her? Pyro asked.
Lenora watched the doorway for a moment, remembering how recently she had promised not to make Lewd explain herself again.
Then she rose.
“Excuse me. I will make sure she has somewhere quiet to sit.”
Ace waited until Lenora had gone before pushing her own chair back.
“I need to report to Seraphine.”
Vespera looked at her sharply.
Before she could speak, a bright voice came from behind Ace.
“Well, if it is not the dragon who helped raise me. Were you going to leave without greeting your sister?”
Hina rolled into the space beside the table and rose with a jester’s flourish.
At four feet nine, she was small enough that several people had missed her approaching between the benches. Once she stopped, missing her became difficult.
Her black dress carried pink and green stripes that shifted with every turn. Matching colors ran through hair dark at its core, green nearer the roots and pink toward the ends. One horn was thick and heavy, faintly pink beneath the lamplight. The other carried a jade-green tint.
Spiked cuffs circled her wrists. A collar matched them at her neck, and a smaller cuff sat near the tuft of her cow tail.
She covered her mouth with one hand and giggled at Ace’s expression.
“Sit down. We have catching up to do.”
Her gaze slid toward Vespera.
“And I have not met your dragon friend. She looks like a fun toy.”
Ace placed a hand on her hip.
“Hello, Princess. I assume your mother brought you.”
“Of course she did. When I heard you were here, I could not let the visit pass without saying hello.”
She turned in place, skirt flaring as though the entire mess hall had become an audience assembled for her benefit.
Sir Reginal arrived behind her at a much less graceful pace.
“Hina. I told you not to leave my sight.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“I can see you perfectly well.”
“Your mother entrusted you to me. If you refuse to behave, I will discipline you.”
“I came to thank Ace.” Hina widened her eyes, giving the explanation an innocence nobody at the table believed. “She and Queen gave me dragon’s milk all those years. Surely gratitude is good manners.”
Vespera turned toward Ace.
“You gave dragon’s milk to someone who was not a dragon?”
Ace’s shoulders tightened.
“This is not the place to discuss it.”
“That is becoming a very popular answer.”
Heat rose in Vespera’s chest. For a moment, the collar was not the restraint she noticed most.
The contract reminded her of the limit she had accepted.
Not here. Not in a city. Not past seventy-five.
She drew a slow breath and kept her hands on the table.
Hina noticed the effort.
She leapt onto the wood beside the hole Vambasta had made, landing in a crouch close to Vespera’s face.
“What is wrong, dragon girl? Did my sister Ace do something she should not have?”
Pink electricity gathered around Ace’s fingers.
“Hina, get off the table. You are speaking to my elder sister.”
The princess tilted her head.
“I thought I was your sister.”
“You know what I mean.”
“And Queen is your younger sister.” Hina looked back at Vespera, the delight leaving her expression with unsettling speed. “How many people am I expected to share you with?”
Vespera met her stare.
“You could begin by getting out of my face.”
Hina’s smile returned without warmth.
“Or I could remove the threat.”
Her body began to change.
Sir Reginal struck the back of her head at the same moment Ace delivered a short, controlled shock.
Hina yelped. The transformation stopped before it could develop, and she twisted toward them with an outraged expression.
“That hurt!”
Sir Reginal caught her collar and pulled her back from Vespera.
“Then remember the instruction you ignored before it happened.”
Ace let the electricity fade from her hand.
Across the mess hall, a servant slowly lowered the tray she had raised in front of herself.
Reginal turned toward Vambasta and Vemi.
“The queen requires you in the throne room. A special visitor will be joining the audience.”
Vemi stood immediately. Vambasta took a moment longer, glancing once at the ruined tabletop before deciding it was someone else’s problem now.
Sir Reginal faced Ace again.
“Helping to raise the princess does not entitle you to discipline her. That responsibility is mine.”
“Then do it before she begins transforming in a room full of people.”
“I had the matter in hand.”
“You had arrived late.” Ace folded her arms. “We are the Sister Seven. We are expected to carry out our orders properly. I would appreciate the same attention from the person responsible for keeping her under control.”
Reginal scoffed and steered Hina away by the collar.
The princess looked back at Ace, offended rather than chastened. Then she spotted Vespera’s expression and grinned again before disappearing between the benches.
Vespera rose.
Her face was bright red.
Ace watched her with the resignation of someone who had delayed a conversation without improving it.
“Outside,” Vespera said. “Now. You are going to explain the milk.”
Seraphine had been given a small table below the throne dais.
Three elven maids attended her. They offered tea, adjusted the placement of a dish she had not touched, and tried to anticipate whether her next glance meant dissatisfaction or simple boredom.
Her fan opened and closed above the table.
She had waited longer than she intended. Vaeloria had made the delay sound like a matter of scheduling. Seraphine recognized the choice for what it was and had spent the interval watching who entered, who left, and who seemed frightened of doing either without instruction.
Lieam approached in her maid uniform.
“Queen Vaeloria will arrive shortly. Is there anything else we can provide while you wait? Elven tea or one of the local delicacies?”
Seraphine’s artifact glowed.
The response was brief, but her eyes moved toward it before returning to Lieam.
A calamity book nearby.
The maid’s posture remained polite. Her hands were still, though not comfortably so.
“No, thank you,” Seraphine said.
Lieam inclined her head and prepared to withdraw.
“One question before you go.”
She stopped.
Seraphine lowered the fan enough to show her smile.
“If someone kidnapped you, would anyone worry?”
Lieam’s throat tightened.
She looked toward the door before she could prevent the movement. Seraphine noticed and waited, as though the question concerned a minor point of household staffing.
The doors opened before Lieam answered.
Hina spun into the throne room and crossed to her mother’s side. Sir Reginal followed with his posture drawn so rigidly upright that it suggested the trip from the mess hall had contained more argument.
Vambasta and Vemi entered behind them and took their places at Seraphine’s back.
Lieam used the interruption to step away from the table.
Seraphine’s shadow moved once beneath her chair, then settled.
“Watch the maid,” she murmured to Orcial Vash. “Do not act until I tell you.”
Hina leaned close to say something about Ace.
Seraphine lifted one finger without looking at her.
The princess fell silent, though her expression made it clear she considered the delay unfair.
The main doors opened again.
Vaeloria entered with Derpy half a step behind her.
His collar was visible above the edge of his clothing. He carried the small torn form of Riven against his chest, supporting her with the same careful hold he had maintained through the corridors. The white-and-purple cover of Celica’s Phantasm rested against his other side.
Vemi saw the doll before she saw his face.
Then she noticed the collar.
Her paw moved toward Vambasta before the wolf could react openly.
Amy followed the queen with her hat tipped low. Lyn came behind her, staff in hand. Lirael and Sylara entered last, still arguing under their breath until one look toward the visitors made them lower their voices.
Derpy scanned the room.
Seraphine sat comfortably at the smaller table. Hina stood beside her. Vambasta and Vemi were behind them, both watching him too closely to pretend that the collar was an ordinary part of his clothing.
Lieam had moved away from Seraphine’s chair. She met his eyes briefly and looked toward her mother.
Vaeloria climbed the dais and took her throne.
The chair beside it had belonged to her husband. Its empty place remained obvious even before she gestured toward it.
“Sit beside me.”
Derpy stopped at the foot of the shallow steps.
He could feel every person in the room deciding what the placement meant. Seraphine’s fan paused. Amy looked toward the chair, then at her mother. Lyn’s hand shifted on her staff.
“I would rather stand.”
Vaeloria’s expression cooled.
“I am commanding you to sit.”
The collar flared.
Derpy’s shoulders locked. He tried to keep his feet planted, but his body turned toward the chair before his refusal could become movement. He tightened his hold on Riven, frightened for an instant that the compulsion would make him drop her.
It did not.
It simply made him cross the remaining distance and sit.
The force ended as soon as he occupied the place Vaeloria had chosen.
He looked down at his hands. One still supported Riven. The other had caught the armrest hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
Vambasta took half a step forward.
Vemi caught her tail close to the base, a familiar warning that made her stop without drawing every guard’s attention.
“We are not in our territory,” Vemi murmured. “Pack law will not protect anyone here.”
Vambasta’s jaw worked. She stayed where she was, though the fur along her arms had begun to rise.
Seraphine closed her fan.
Vaeloria watched her from the throne, one hand resting lightly beside Derpy as though his presence there had been settled by courtesy.
For a moment, neither queen spoke.
Derpy forced himself to loosen his grip on the armrest. Moving too abruptly would draw another response from the collar. He did not yet know how little movement counted as too much.
His gaze traveled back to Seraphine.
Then he recognized what she was holding.
Riven’s old artifact rested in Seraphine’s hand.
Derpy remembered telling him about Lyra Shadowbloom’s spell during the fight with Lady Theron, the Blue Knight. The force of it had drawn the artifact out of Riven, and Seraphine had reclaimed it afterward.
He had not forgotten its appearance.
He had not expected to see it presented so casually across a throne room while Riven lay damaged in his arms.
Seraphine’s thumb moved along its edge.
Perhaps she intended him to notice. Perhaps it had simply answered Lieam’s presence and remained in her hand. He could not tell from the small smile she wore, and the uncertainty made it harder to look away.
A whisper reached him.
Riven needs that book.
Derpy went still.
The voice was not Celica’s. It carried none of Sinister’s familiar amusement. He searched for it inwardly and found no face, no clear direction from which it had spoken.
Riven remained motionless against his chest.
His fingers twitched toward the artifact before he stopped them.
The collar warmed.
Vaeloria looked at him immediately. Across the room, Seraphine’s eyes narrowed with interest.
Derpy settled his hand around the torn doll instead.
He knew neither who had spoken nor what the artifact would do. He knew only that Riven needed repair, that Seraphine held something once taken from her, and that both queens had noticed him looking.
Seraphine opened her fan again.
Derpy watched the artifact over its edge, waiting for the first price someone would ask him to pay.