Quen raised his eyebrows. “If you’re looking for a fight with me, stop it. Worry about your own problems,” he drawled. “Even once she’s signed the contract and marked it with her blood, she may be hard to handle. You can’t keep her bespelled all the time. What do you think will happen when you let the spells lapse? There’s plenty a wife can do to a husband short of killing him, and mage wives are known to be inventive.”

Shan leaned back on his elbows. “I’m not worried. You didn’t see her with me, Quen. I had the girl. She would have said yes to my proposal, if some damned busybody hadn’t told her I was Berenene’s lover. I can win Sandry back. Once she’s realized this really is what she wanted all along, I think she’ll be very happy to make ours the second house in the empire. I’ll ensure that she’s happy. It’s to my advantage, too, after all.”

Quen raised his brows. “I had no idea you were so ambitious. Or so foolish. Her Imperial Majesty is not going to let you off easily, you know. You’ll be in disgrace. Her memory is long—”

Shan smiled. “But her pockets are not. She can’t afford to keep Sandry and me in disgrace for long—not if she means to keep squabbling with the emperor in Yanjing. I plan to spend my time in exile making alliances in the Noble Assembly and in the Mages’ Society. Berenene helped me there, arresting Fin’s uncle. Once we have enough of the people Her Imperial Majesty has vexed on our side, she will have to accept us. Me.”

Quen rubbed his nose. “She is practical, it’s true. Who knows? You may have the right of it. Now, where is this perfect plucking spot you told me you mean to use? You said it’s just two more days’ ride.”

“It’s perfect,” Shan said, pulling a map from the saddlebag beside him. “Canyon Inn. The main inn on the highway, the Blendroad Inn, will be full to bursting. There’s a horse fair in that village at this time every year. My nurse’s cousin, who runs Blendroad, will be sure to tell Clehame Sandrilene that Canyon Inn is more suited to her gentle nature.” He laid the map flat and indicated each location. “And the Canyon Inn is all set as a trap for my pretty bird and her little flock. With your spells, and those of my mage friends, to help me escape, I’ll be long gone with Sandry by the time Daja and Briar can track us. My mother’s prepared a place where I can keep Sandry till she’s signed the contract and married me.”

“You’ve thought of everything, it seems,” murmured Quen.

“I’ve planned since I knew she liked me,” replied Shan. “I’d have preferred her to accept when I proposed, but…women.” He shrugged. “She’ll come around.”

Shan, Quen, and their companions arrived at the Canyon Inn well in advance of Sandry’s party. A check of his scrying-glass told Quen it would take her another five days to reach them, moving at a slower place on the main highway. Armed with that news, Shan paid a visit to his allies at the Blendroad Inn, where preparations for the horse fair were underway, and finished his arrangements at the Canyon Inn.

The money for all this, Quen discovered, came from one of Berenene’s gifts to Shan. He really knows no shame, Quen thought, watching Shan spar with his guardsmen once he returned. I wish I could share the joke with Isha. Thinking of Shan’s intentions with regard to the Noble Assembly and the Mages’ Society, he wondered, Should I arrange for Shan to fail in his kidnapping? Sandry is a sweet girl, and I like her. No, I have to follow through. If Shan doesn’t succeed, Berenene might forgive him in time. If he does, she will never forgive him, even though she wanted to keep Sandry in Namorn.

Briar and Daja should be easy to handle. Plant mages and smith mages are generally limited to their direct workings. Once I have them bound, the hard part will be over. All I have to do is hold them until the kidnapping party is safely gone. Sandry will be Shan’s problem.

With his own battle plan worked out, Quen relaxed, ambling along the gorge that was meant to be Shan’s escape route, cooling his feet in the small river outside the Canyon Inn, and gathering plants in the surrounding forest. He also made certain to regularly check his scrying-glass for signs of Lady Sandrilene’s progress.

The spies’ reports reached Berenene two days before Sandry and her companions reached the Blendroad crossing. The empress read the reports twice, the enraged flush on her cheeks deepening. Finally she slammed a hematite ring she never took off against the desk. It would bring Ishabal to her as quickly as the woman could run.

Berenene wasted no time on pleasantries when her chief mage arrived. Instead, she threw the reports at Isha’s head. “Both of them!” she snapped, shoving her chair back from her desk. “Both of those arrogant young pups! Vrohain witness, they will pay for this! For defiance, and for thinking I would be so foolish—so besotted!—as to let them get away with it!”

Ishabal pretended to read the reports. Copies had already reached her that morning. “You like proud, hotheaded young men,” she said carefully, watching the empress as she stood to pace. “Such men do as they wish, always thinking there is a way to make it right.” Despite her apparent calm, she, too, was seething. Quen had lied to her. She did not like that. She waited until the empress looked her way, then shrugged. “They may well succeed. They are intelligent and talented. Lady Sandrilene’s gold will stay in Namorn. They may even have been foolish enough to think you would be practical, as you always are. That you will settle for the solution to the more expensive problem—the loss of Sandrilene’s income to Emelan.”