“Another word,” said Ambros, his voice pure ice, “and I will have you flogged at the village stocks, for disrespect to nobles, one stripe for each of us.” Halmar looked up at the faces that stared down at him from the gallery.

As far as he knows, we’re all noble, and he’ll be sleeping on his belly for a month if he doesn’t bite his tongue, thought Daja coolly. Ambros should know the only way to douse a fire like that is drown it in a tempering bath. Ice water would silence him fastest. A plunge in the Syth, maybe.

“Get him out of my sight,” ordered Sandry.

The footmen rose, hauling the man with them. They bowed deep, forcing Halmar to bow with them, then half-marched, half-dragged him from view.

Ambros looked across the stairwell at Sandry. “You should still have Halmar flogged for disrespect,” he said quietly, his voice carrying perfectly to everyone in the gallery and the main hall below. “We don’t encourage the lower classes to speak so to the nobility here.”

Sandry flapped a hand as if she brushed away a fly. “Either I’m so important that the squeaks of a beetle like him aren’t worth my attention, or I’m not important, which means I can’t hire his former wife as my maid and her children as my pages. Which is it, do you suppose, Cousin?”

“I thought you didn’t need a maid,” Tris reminded Sandry, her voice flat. Her lightnings were just beginning to fade.

Gudruny looked at Sandry. “You don’t? Lady, I do not wish to be a burden—I can get sewing work in the city. I never meant to be a charge on you—”

“Hush,” Sandry told her gently. She glared at Tris and said, “It’s been made clear to me that it’s very strange for me not to have a maid. Gudruny will add to my consequence. All right? Does that suit you?”

“Don’t bite my head off,” retorted Tris as Chime climbed up to her shoulder. “Did they deliver your consequence in the middle of the night? I didn’t hear it arrive.”

“They smuggled it in with the morning bread,” commented Briar. “They didn’t want us getting in the way of her consequence.”

Sandry propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Enough.”

“Yes, Clehame,” said Briar. He bowed and returned to his room.

“Yes, Clehame,” added Tris. She bobbed a curtsy and retreated to her own chamber with Chime.

Sandry looked at Daja, clearly upset, and opened her mouth, but Daja shook her head. Let them calm down. They always listen better after breakfast, she thought, though she didn’t use their magical tie. She knew that Sandry would understand without that.

“Well, I know what Her Imperial Majesty would say,” volunteered Jak. Unlike the others, he looked fresh and ready for the day as he leaned on the gallery rail, grinning with amusement. “She’d say a clehame’s word is law, whether she means consequence or the marriage of one of her servants. Particularly when the clehame’s of imperial blood. You’re a spitfire in the morning, aren’t you, Lady Sandry? The poor sod who marries you may not be ready for so much hot pepper in his bed.”

Sandry stuck her tongue out at him.

She’s forgotten that newly arrived consequence already, observed Daja.

Gudruny sank to the floor, weeping. “Enough,” Sandry told her kindly. “It seems you weren’t lying, which is really just as well, if you’re to work for me.” She looked over at Ambros. “Would you send a few men-at-arms with Ravvi Gudruny, to help her pack and to bring her children here?”

Ealaga looked at her husband. “You said things would be different with the clehame at home,” she remarked with a twinkle in her eye. “I see now you weren’t joking. Perhaps you should order that the catapults be inspected, in case she wants to practice with those later.” She turned and vanished into her room.

Rizu laughed from her position across the stairwell. “Where’s the fun in that?” she asked Daja. “Get dressed. You and Caidy can go riding with me.”

As Daja nodded her agreement, Jak offered, “I’ll ride.”

“Not me,” grumbled Fin. “I’m going back to bed.”

Ambros continued to watch Sandry. “I was not her overlord,” he said cautiously. “I could stop him from beating her, but that was all I could do.”

“Please don’t rub my nose in it, Cousin,” Sandry replied gloomily, urging Gudruny to her feet. “I’m already feeling guilty.” Of the woman at her side, she asked, “You petitioned my mother twice?” She led Gudruny back into her rooms.

Daja sighed. “I’d hoped to sleep late,” she said to no one in particular. “Give me an hour?” Daja asked Rizu. The young woman nodded and returned to her chambers, while Daja went back to get dressed. Once clothed, she checked on Sandry. Her friend stood in her personal sitting room, staring bleakly through an open window. Sounds of rummaging came from the bedroom. It seemed as if Sandry’s new maid had gone straight to work. “Was it all that dire?” asked Daja, curious. “It had to be solved first thing in the morning?”

Sandry grimaced. “You mean I should have done it with more ceremony? Probably. But Halmar rushed in first thing, remember? I think Cousin Ambros would have stopped me if I were in the wrong. You didn’t see her, Daja. She hid in here to talk to me.” She gave a tiny smile. “Well, then she fell asleep and woke me in the middle of the night. He kidnapped her, and he forced her to sign a marriage contract. She could only be free of it if my mother—or I—decreed it.” She returned to her watch over the view outside her window. “Daja, my mother didn’t only refuse to hear her. She, she ignored Gudruny. She ignored the whole thing and left Gudruny with a man who forced her. I didn’t think my mother was like that.”