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“I see,” Shaeine whispered, not voicing the obvious rejoinder. It was, then, a question of who survived to tell the tale.

Her mother was going to be exceedingly irate about her playing a role in wiping out a major Imperial House, but at this point, it couldn’t be helped.

The priestess reached within herself again, connecting to the power of the goddess. Immediately the so-called lamp reacted again, but this time Shaeine was done exercising restraint. Her aura blazed, a silver shield flashed into place around her, and still she kept drawing energy, pulling until she could feel the warning twinges of burnout. Her shield was a well-practiced technique that required fairly little concentration; the rest of that power she pushed straight outward in a torrent against the Scyllithene artifact she could feel trying to strike back against her.

Whatever the thing’s origins and powers, it was just a static artifact—a nasty surprise for anyone channeling the wrong kind of magic near it, but not up for a direct challenge by a priestess of Themynra on the offensive.

White and silver light burst through the room, to the accompaniment of shouts from the House Madouri soldiers as human eyes were blinded by the eruption. Drow eyes being inherently sensitive to light, Shaeine like any cleric of her order knew a minor working to shield her vision and pushed through. The magical impact sent the artifact careening off the table.

Directly, to her immediate chagrin, at Vadrieny. The demon let out a shriek of pain and staggered away. There was no time to wallow in remorse, however; the room was split by a thunderclap as one blinded soldier discharged his staff, and Shaeine swept back into action, cursing herself for the moment of hesitation caused by making her lover collateral damage.

Before any of the soldiers could recover, she formed a solid wall of light and swept it against them, slamming the men along one side of the room into the wall, then repeated the maneuver against those on the other. She couldn’t hit hard enough to kill with that technique—not in quarters this tight—but it should at least daze and perhaps injure them. More boots were pounding toward the doors, however, so Shaeine wasted no more time, vaulting onto the table and kicking Ravana’s abandoned plate upward.

It wasn’t just elven agility and reflex; she had been taught, specifically, to fight in a formal dining hall. Her fingers closed around the handle of the steak knife, snagging it out of the air, and she launched herself directly at the Duke. He was just lowering his hand from the blinding flash, eyes widening as the next thing they beheld was a cold-eyed drow bearing down on him with steel bared.

Then thunder cracked again; Dazan had drawn a sidearm and fired at her point blank. He was in the process of visibly flailing, making it a distinctly lucky shot, but then again at that range and given that she was charging right past him it might have been harder not to hit her, especially as the bubble of light around her made a much bigger target than the slender shape within. That shield saved her life, but the wandshot impacted her even as she lunged through the air with both her feet off the table; with nothing to brace against, the force of it sent her careening into the wall practically on top of one of the soldiers she had just felled.

She had blocked wandshots with her personal shield at Sarasio, but even that didn’t prepare her for the power they held, given that the shield was designed to blunt incoming attacks as much as possible. To truly feel the impact one had to be hit while flying through the air. The force of a single wandshot sent her violently off course with no more volition than a billiard ball.

A hidden door she had not observed opened behind the head of the table, by one side of the great display surmounted by the Madouri quest on which her ill-received gifts now rested, and more soldiers dashed into the dining room, weapons at the ready as they fanned out behind their Duke.

“Well, well,” Ehriban drawled, straightening up in his seat and looking past Shaeine. “Bringing weapons and shields into the presence of your governor? You are making this easier for me, Geoffrey—”

A beam of white light impacted nothing right in front of his face; the Duke jerked backward, gaping. It was likely no one had ever dared directly attack him before.

“Yeah, didn’t really think so,” Geoffrey Falconer said, still holding his wand aimed right at Ehriban. “You cannot imagine how much I have wanted to do that, though.”

“You’re only digging your own grave,” Ehriban snarled. “A professional like yourself should know I can have that wand analyzed after I take it off your corpse. When Intelligence learns it was used to fire on my personal shield—”

Two more hits to said shield shut him up for a moment, at least until Dazan turned and fired two lightning bolts right back. The first sparked off an arcane shield around Geoffrey, who had planted himself in front of Marguerite; the second was intercepted by another wall of silver light Shaeine raised.

Near her, two soldiers were trying to stagger to their feet. She swatted them back down with a mobile shield.

“That’s right, just keep digging!” the Duke exclaimed. “I already have more than I need to hand over Falconer Industries to my son to manage once you’re all—”

Then, while they were all distracted with that, another burst of white light flashed through the room.

When everyone could see again, it was to behold Vadrieny standing upright, clutching the shattered and now-inert remnants of the Scyllithene artifact. Fragments of marble and silver crunched and trickled from between her claws as she clenched down, further pulverizing the remains.

“Didn’t. Think. That. Through,” the archdemon snarled. Already, the half-dampened fire of her hair and wings was beginning to reassert itself, burn marks along her skin receding now that Scyllith’s light had been extinguished.

“Hold it,” Ehriban barked, beginning to look genuinely alarmed. “Don’t be a fool, girl. You may be able to kill me, but this room is full of my men, with military weapons. Those shields your parents and your little girlfriend have won’t last long.”

“They had better,” Vadrieny hissed, baring her fangs to their full unsettling extent. “If you so much as singe a one of them, I will disassemble you piece. By. Piece.”

A moment of relative quiet passed, broken only by the House Madouri soldiers getting back to their feet.

“Well, well,” the Duke said at last, forcing a thin smile. “It seems we have a standoff, then. How droll.”

“He can’t let us leave,” said Shaeine. “He has attempted conspiracy, corruption, and murder. If we leave here, we will return with Imperial troops to end his reign.”

“Or we can end it now!” Vadrieny barked, shifting her legs as if about to spring. A visibly frightened Dazan turned to cover her with his wand.

“Boy, I have told you to aim always at the weakest point,” his father said softly.

“B-but… I mean, has she got a vulnerable—”

“Them!” Ehriban exclaimed, pointing at the two older Falconers. Blanching, Dazan swiveled again, taking aim at them. “This is quite the dilemma we have on our hands, is it not? It seems if we are all to leave this room, we must come to an agreement. Now…”

Another figure slipped out of the knot of soldiers behind the Duke’s chair, catching Shaeine’s eye. No one else took notice of her until she raised her hand, holding Tellwyrn’s ancient saber, and pressed the edge against Dazan’s throat. The young lord emitted an embarrassing squeak, and the Duke turned to scowl at him, then froze, expression utterly shocked.

His wasn’t the only one.

“Conspiracy, corruption, and murder,” Ravana Madouri repeated. She stood straight as a battlestaff, as poised with the blade in her hand as if on a ballroom floor. “Altogether a typical Thursday evening in the House of Madouri, with the exception that this time you have assaulted with premeditated murderous intent a diplomat of an allied power. That, Father, is treason.”

There was dead silence, everyone in the room staring at Ravana as if they had never seen her before. For the most part, they may as well not have.

“…Ravana?” Ehriban said at least, hesitantly.

Dazan hissed and tried to raise his head higher as his sister tensed her arm. A line of noble blood appeared across his throat and began to trickle down the surface of the elven steel.

“Your swaggering and bullying has squandered every political alliance this House once had,” Ravana lectured her father in an icy tone. “That, coupled with the repeated offenses you have given House Tirasian, means the Emperor will not hesitate to exact the fullest penalty for this the law allows. Thanks to you, not only will no other House press him to stay his hand, the vultures will circle to strip whatever they can from the corpse of House Madouri. This asinine scheme could doom us all. And for what? Because you are personally offended that the Falconers are wealthy enough to detract attention from you? For shame.”

“They…you…” Ehriban stammered, stopped, swallowed heavily. “Ravana, little starling, please put that down. I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His daughter curled her lip sardonically. “What happens to me appears to be entirely out of your hands at this juncture, Father.”

“Vana?” Dazan squeaked. Everyone ignored him.

“That…is quite enough,” the Duke stated, clearly regathering his poise sufficiently to straighten in his chair. “Men, escort Lady Ravana to her chambers and keep her there until I can attend to her.”

Another pause ensued. The soldiers clustered behind around Ravana, behind Ehriban and Dazan, shifted subtly, gripping weapons and turning to regard the young Lady, but did not otherwise move. After a moment, one of the other soldiers closer to Shaeine made as if to take a step forward, freezing when she half-turned her head to fix him with a stare.

“Now!” Ehriban exclaimed. “I have made my orders clear!”

Then Ravana Madouri smiled, and Shaeine felt a frisson coil its way down her spine.

“Lieutenant Arivani,” Ravana said aloud, “how fares your wife? I regret I have not had the opportunity to follow up with the doctor in some weeks.”

“She’s well, my Lady, thanks to your kind assistance,” said the soldier nearest her, turning toward her with the deepest bow the cramped quarters and his battlestaff would allow. “The doctor said it was a close thing. Could have lost her if it had gone untreated any longer, but she’ll recover now.”

Duke Ehriban was staring at this byplay with his jaw flapping in an amusingly fishlike expression. “Wh—how did— What?”

“Oh,” Geoffrey Falconer whispered, comprehension dawning. Vadrieny was now looking back and forth between the three nobles in confusion, but Shaeine had by that point figured it out. This was beginning to be downright Narisian, in fact.

“It is a basic principle of statecraft,” Ravana lectured her father with outright condescension, the blade at her brother’s throat unwavering. “Or, indeed, in any venture in which security is important. One must screen one’s employees—especially those such as soldiers in whose hands one’s safety rests—and not employ those with outstanding vulnerabilities exploitable by an enemy. No drug addictions, sick relatives, gambling habits, or the like. Not only have you consistently failed that basic step, you have gone further and created such cracks in our House’s security by not paying your soldiers adequately, and removing the traditional benefits they enjoyed under previous generations.” She finally turned her head to nod at the men clustering around her. “That is the first thing that’s about to change around here.”

The assembled Madouri troops stood straighter in response, several smiling at the diminutive Lady.

Duke Ehriban slumped back into his chair, gaping at Ravana in disbelief for a few befuddled moments. Then, finally, he emitted a forced chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well. Well, well. I, ah… I suppose I must bear some of the blame for this.”

“Some of the blame,” Marguerite muttered, but he ignored her.

“So much like your mother,” Ehriban continued, giving Ravana a fond smile. “Well then! I see there is yet another side to this…impromptu negotiation. Please remove that weapon from your brother, Ravana, and let us come to an agreement.”

“Negotiations are only necessary when one is not in complete control of a situation,” Ravana stated, her expression reverting to frigid detachment. “The soldiers here answer to me, as I have demonstrated. That leaves you nothing with which to pressure the Falconers or Lady Shaeine—whereas I can assure due recompense to House Awarrion for the grievous insult you have inflicted, as well as an immediate lessening of the entirely needless and punitive burden of taxation and administrative interference you have inflicted upon Falconer Industries.”

“Young lady, take what you’ve been given and be grateful,” Ehriban said, straightening up again and frowning down at her. “That is quite enough. We can discuss these matters in more detail later.”

“You fail to understand,” she intoned softly. “This province has been driven to the brink by your incompetence and malfeasance. Our people are harassed and abused instead of protected by your crooked police forces, your unreasonable taxes stifle economic activity, and your personal outbursts and petty cruelties have isolated us and made a virtual enemy of the Silver Throne itself. After years of corruption and abuse, you’ve finally crossed the line, Father. This is not an intervention. This is a coup d’etat. In the Emperor’s name, I arrest you for high treason. Once Imperial Intelligence has perused the proof of your planned murder of a Narisian diplomat, I imagine the ultimate sentence will be pronounced swiftly. Men, secure the Duke.”

“Don’t you dare—” was all Ehriban Madouri managed to bellow before being forcibly hiked from his seat by his own soldiers. Ravana finally lowered the sword as two more House guards seized Dazan and wrestled him to a kneeling position, arms held behind him.

“Vana, no!” the young lord exclaimed. “It wasn’t like that, she just… It was only supposed to be the Falconers!”

“Shut up, boy!” Ehriban snarled.

“Too late,” Ravana said, shaking her head wearily. “That is a confession, witnessed by all here.”

“I am a Duke! An Imperial governor!” Ehriban raged. “It is my word against—”

“You employ forgers, Father,” Ravana said pitilessly. “And in what may be the crowning achievement of your incompetence, you don’t pay them adequately, either. For your edification, if one must truck with scurrilous underworld types, blackmail does not suffice to keep them loyal—it only ensures they will be watching for the first opportunity to enact a betrayal. Lieutenant Arivani, I will require the ducal signet ring.”

“You will have to take my hand off first!” Ehriban raged at the soldier who stepped toward him. Arivani paused at the ferocity in his expression, glancing back at Ravana.

“If his Grace is committed to those terms, they are acceptable to me,” she said indifferently.

“Vana, please,” Dazan blubbered. “You can’t—if it’s treason, it’ll be— That’s the headsman for us, don’t you understand that?!”

Finally, for just a moment, Ravana hesitated, appearing uncertain. Attuned as she was to the subtleties of expression, Shaeine saw a transitory flicker as the young lady appeared to falter, somewhere between the vapid persona she had been effecting and the ice-blooded queenly facade to which she had switched. In that merest instance was a glimpse of a young girl who did not want to do this. And just like that, it was gone, leaving Shaeine feeling a sad kinship.

So it was, to be a noble. She would have done the same.

“If it is to be the headsman,” Ravana said in an impressively even tone, “remember you are a Madouri and try to face it with dignity.”

“Lady Ravana.” During the confrontation, Vadrieny’s form had faded away, leaving Teal looking deeply shaken. “They’re…your family.”

“My family,” Ravana said coldly, “exist for the sake of the realm and people of Madouris, not the other way around. They have forgotten this, and become too lost to pride to accept any reminder. A clean slate is needed if a true crisis is to be averted. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

She closed her tiny fingers around the heavy ring Arivani placed reverently in her hand, making no move to slip it on. Ehriban, in the end, had given it up with no further fight. In fact, he now slumped in the grasp of his captors, suddenly looking shocked and utterly defeated.

“Little starling,” he whispered.

“I have never enjoyed that nickname,” Ravana said quietly, staring at the table and refusing to meet his pleading eyes. “Starlings are an invasive pest. That is just one of the things you would know if you’d listened to your ministers when they tried to dissuade you from canceling those agricultural subsidies. It will take me years to untangle the mess you’ve created. Secure them in the lower cells—discreetly.” Ravana lifted her eyes finally, not to look at her father and brother, but at the soldiers holding them prisoner. “Until I can bring Imperial agents here to oversee and formalize the transition, his various partners in crime pose a risk. Permit no one to approach them. One warning, and then assume you are under attack and respond with lethal force. Against anyone—soldiers, servants, strangers. Make no assumptions and take no risks.”

“Your own servants?” Teal exclaimed.

“Teal,” Shaeine said softly, catching her gaze. She shook her head once. There was just too much to explain, and even if she explained it perfectly there was likely to be an argument as a result. This was not the sort of thing a person not raised to noble expectations was likely to understand.

The soldiers saluted Ravana, who turned her back on both them and the room while the two elder Madouris were hauled away, Ehriban in stunned silence, Dazan still shouting for his sister’s attention until the heavy dining room door was slammed shut behind him.

Facing the wall, Lady Ravana appeared to hunch in on herself. Her thin shoulders quivered once.

“Oh, honey,” Marguerite whispered, fortunately in a low enough tone that even Shaeine barely caught it. She started to take a step toward the young Lady, reaching out, but Geoffrey gently took her by the shoulders, pulling her close. Very much for the best, Shaeine knew; Ravana would not appreciate any such gesture at a time like this.

“How…how long have you been plotting this?” Teal asked, herself in a bare whisper. The words were accusatory, but her voice was simply horrified.

Ravana finally straightened and turned, her face once more composed when it was visible. “Too long. You seem rather put off by all this, Miss Falconer.”

Teal gaped in disbelief.

“If you would feel better removing yourself from the situation, I have a favor to ask.”

“Me?” Teal squawked.

“Well, more accurately, your counterpart.” Lady Ravana stepped forward, holding out her father’s ring. “We will not be truly safe here until the…previous Duke is in Imperial custody and the transition of power ratified by the Emperor. Perhaps not even then, unless his Majesty sees fit to loan me Imperial troops until I have thoroughly cleaned house. Even your family may be at risk unless we act swiftly. To that end, I would ask Vadrieny to carry this to General Tulivaan at the Imperial garrison here in Madouris. He…will understand what it means, though I rather expect he’ll ask you to explain what you’ve seen tonight.”

“You would send Vadrieny into an Imperial fortification?” Shaeine demanded.

“Tulivaan knows her,” Geoffrey said quickly. “He’ll, uh, have some questions if she drops in out of the blue, I’m sure, but his soldiers won’t fire on her at sight. Actually, even if they did, I guess that wouldn’t do her much harm, would it?”

“Please, Teal,” Ravana said quietly, still holding out the signet ring.

“I don’t…understand how you can…do this.”

“Then count yourself blessed. You would make a poor aristocrat…and for that, a much better person.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. When Teal finally took the ring, it was in a sudden grab. She hesitated only to look at Shaeine, her eyes wide and haunted.

“It will be all right,” Shaeine assured her quickly. “I am here, and your parents had the forethought to come armed. We will look after each other.”

“I…” Teal swallowed heavily, nodding once in a jerky motion. Then Vadrieny burst forth again in an explosion of fire and claws.

“Be careful,” the archdemon said. “I’ll be quick as I can.”

Then she was gone, pushing open the great double doors into the dining room from the formal hall outside and causing a scream from some passing housemaid. Geoffrey stepped over to gently pull the door shut.

Ravana sighed softly. “I fear I have rather unsettled her.”

“Teal is a sensitive soul,” said Shaeine. “It is a trait that ill befits someone in your position or mine, but a source of surprising strength for her. And one I value greatly.”

Ravana looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then down at the ancient saber hanging from her hand, her brother’s blood still forming small streaks along the blade. She roughly wiped it off on the tablecloth, then crossed to the display beneath the Themynrite idol and picked up the accompanying dagger.

Both Falconers tensed when Ravana approached Shaeine with both blades in hand, but with surprising deftness, the young noblewoman reversed her grip and offered them hilts first.

“For offense given by my House to yours, honor compels me to return your generous offering, with the promise that full recompense shall be made. When next you deign to grace my hearth, no gift shall be owed, for I will regard you as…a…cherished comrade in battle.”

Shaeine, even poised as she was, blinked in surprise. It didn’t quite work in Tanglish; Narisian elvish had multiple levels of formality which could be used interchangeably throughout a sentence to add complex nuances of meaning. The lack was evident in Ravana’s faltering at the end there, when she clearly struggled to express a thought using unfamiliar formalities. It impressed Shaeine deeply that Ravana knew the Narisian etiquette at all.

“I accept the sentiment in the spirit in which it is offered,” she said aloud, reaching out to grasp the handles and gently reclaim the blades. Apparently her mother would get her guest gift from Teal after all. “Though your House has offended, you have done me great honor in seeking to correct it at personal cost, Lady Ravana. I would impose no further burden upon you in what I know is a painful time.”

Ravana met her eyes, and they shared a small nod of mutual understanding.

“I, uh… Would it be…gauche if I sat down?” Marguerite asked faintly.

“Not in the least, Mrs. Falconer,” Ravana assured her. “Please be as comfortable as you can. I am deeply sorry for… Well, everything.” She grimaced. “But most immediately for keeping you cooped up in here. I’m afraid I spoke the simple truth to Teal, however. This manor is teeming with my father’s sycophants; until they are secured, my loyal soldiers returned and the Empire on its way, I fear it’s simply not safe for any of us to wander about.”

“I think it would only be bad manners at this point if we went back to eating,” Geoffrey said, attempting a jovial smile as he helped his wife back into her chair. “So! Heck of a night, eh? Here we are, then. What, ah, shall we talk about?”

Each of them looked at each of the rest in turn, and the silence stretched out.

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The Madouri family being what they were, the Manor’s formal dining room was laid out with a giant display behind the seat at the head of the long table, positioned so that a huge House crest would loom above the person seated there, with below that a broad flat space like an altar which could be used for any situationally suitable decoration, the better to emphasize whatever point was being made. For this dinner, the Duke had apparently taken some amusement in designating this a suitable display spot for the gifts his family had just received, with the result that now a silver statue of the cowled goddess Themynra loomed directly behind him, just beneath the Madouri crest.

This, needless to say, was not appropriate placement for a sacred sigil. Any sigil; the symbolic implication that House Madouri stood above a god was too clear to have been anything but deliberate. Shaeine did not overtly react, of course, but considered the implications. Teal had described Duke Ehriban as motivated chiefly by ego, but that was when dealing with his own subjects. Surely a man in his position couldn’t be brash enough to kick up an international incident? Regardless, being Narisian, she filed the insult away to be redressed at a better time, and took some dark amusement of her own in the fact that Tellwyrn’s sword and dagger had been laid at the feet of Themynra’s idol, in an extra layer of symbolism.

Actually, Tellwyrn probably would have laughed at that, too. And blasted the Duke across the room for good measure, but with a sense of humor. Still, Shaeine rather suspected he wouldn’t have dared add that little touch had Tellwyrn herself been present to see.

And despite all of the diplomatic weight behind this pageantry, it wasn’t what commanded most of her attention.

“You like it, Lady Shaeine?” the Duke drawled at her in the manner of a man who knew he was being antagonistic and either didn’t care enough to fully hide behind a shroud of civility or simply lacked the requisite emotional control. “My House is rather famous, if you’ll forgive the boast, for the rarity of the treasures within its vaults, but even we haven’t a lot in the way of drow artifacts. Mostly arms and armor confiscated from various Narisians who’ve attempted to raid Madouri lands over the centuries. This was the only piece I could find on such short notice that seemed at all suitable for display on a dinner table. Alas, I had only scant warning to expect the pleasure of your company!”

“I do hope not to have inconvenienced you unduly, Lord Ehriban,” she replied, noting the resulting twitch of his left eye and not reacting—she, at least, could control her emotions while delivering a veiled insult. The correct title was Duke Madouri, the one she had used being suitable for a lesser member of his House, and to judge by the lack of an immediate rebuke, he wasn’t sure whether she’d done it deliberately. “Truly, it is a…remarkable piece. It is not, however, Narisian. I am very curious how it came to be in your House’s vaults.”

It was a candelabra of sorts, carved delicately of what appeared to be white marble in the shape of a tree, a strange motif for drow, but the marble trunk and obsidian base were both inscribed with runes in elvish—neither the surface nor Narisian dialects, but intelligible with a bit of effort to anyone who knew the language. Among the white tree’s bare branches were stretched delicate silver wires in the shape of intricate spider webs, and suspended within them were lodged thirteen tiny, exquisitely crafted silver skulls. Each contained a magic source, projecting beams of pure white radiance through the minute eye and nose holes, and the even more tiny gaps between teeth.

“Is that so?” Duke Ehriban replied with a deliberately knowing smirk. “Well, I’d love to know myself. Unfortunately, most of my more adventurous ancestors were rather more interested in collecting treasures than keeping records. I’m afraid there’s just no accounting for a good number of the artifacts collecting dust down there. What do you think, Dazan, could it be from that other city up north? What’s it called, Akhvaris?”

Lord Dazan paused in lifting a forkful of meat to his lips, giving his father a rather stupid look of surprise. “I, er…”

“The Akhvari refuse all contact,” Shaeine said quietly. “It is, in fact, Scyllithene, and most likely came to the surface through Tar’naris, which must have been an incredible story indeed. I appreciate the gesture, my lord Duke, but I must warn you that artifacts of Scyllith are as dangerous as those of the Elder Gods. Especially those, such as this one, which are magical in nature.”

“How fascinating!” the Duke said merrily. “I know what you mean—my ancestors have several Elder God trinkets squirreled away. Surely there’s no need to worry, though; those are all fully secured. The ancient Madouris did at least manage to catalog everything too hazardous to mess with and lock it up with all the requisite warnings. That this one wasn’t buttoned up similarly tells me it can’t be all that bad! Clearly it’s just a decorative centerpiece.”

“But father,” Dazan said, frowning, “I thought—”

“There’s only the one Elder God relic that’s even accessible down there,” Ehriban interrupted swiftly, shooting his son a cold look. “The sword of light, remember? I showed it to you once.”

“Oh! Yes!” Dazan’s face positively lit up. “Beautiful thing—it not only glows but makes music!”

“A musical sword?” Teal asked, her attention predictably grabbed.

“Not good music, of course,” Dazan said, turning to her and pantomiming swinging a blade with both hands. “It makes a rather pleasant humming sound that changes pitch as you move it. I suppose one could create a melody from that with a bit of effort, but that clearly wasn’t the intent. Father was loath to let me test it properly, but according to the notes old Lady Avelaan Madouri kept, the blade is weightless and will cut through anything! Since you mention it, Father, perhaps a demonstration for our guests would be the perfect excuse to show—”

“No fewer than five of your ancestors have dismembered themselves handling that fool thing, Dazan,” the Duke said in a quelling tone. “Two lethally. The Elder Gods did enjoy their little pranks. It’s for good reason the weapon is behind glass and displayed so as to be seen, not touched.”

“But…you took it out,” Dazan protested. “That’s how you demonstrated the humming.”

“In any case,” Ehriban continued, “my ancestors, in their wisdom, saw fit to place no such protections around this piece of decoration and no ill has befallen as a result of it. I’m afraid your concerns are misplaced, Lady Shaeine.”

“As you say, your Grace,” she replied smoothly, deeming this a hill not worth planting a flag on…yet. It was not yet clear to her whether he truly had no idea what he was tampering with or intended something specific with the…lamp, if that was indeed its purpose. If the latter, they were all likely to regret it. Surface people tended to forget that Scyllithene artifacts by definition were Elder God artifacts, and exactly as dangerous for exactly the same reasons.

“I gather, from your wariness, that you’ve not seen the like in person?” Ehriban prompted, still watching her.

Shaeine shook her head. “In Tar’naris, such a thing would be summarily destroyed.”

“Ah, yes,” he said with a sage nod, taking up his knife and fork to begin cutting into the slab of meat before him. “Your people do have that historical tendency.”

Marguerite drew in a short breath and Teal’s jaw tightened; Dazan had the effrontery to smirk. Shaeine, of course, did not give him the satisfaction.

In fact, her attention was caught by Ravana, who was seated at her right, in the position directly to the left of her father and across from Dazan. The young noblewoman’s aspect had subtly but entirely changed during the conversation; where she had been virtually silent and adopted an almost aggressively unobtrusive posture all night, with her hands clasped in her lap and head slightly bowed, she was now sipping her wine. Slowly, her spine having straightened, holding a small mouthful on her tongue and inhaling gently through the nose with the glass held before her, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. It was the most unguarded posture Shaeine had seen her assume, and though a relatively minor thing, it was like looking at an entirely different person.

Ravana swallowed and her eyes shifted, noticing Shaeine watching her. She did not, as the drow half expected, hastily change her posture back or at all react as if caught in something, but delicately set her wineglass back down and once more folded her hands, returning smoothly to her previously demure pose.

Interesting.

“So,” Geoffrey said in a strained voice, clearly grasping for any change of subject, “how is the carriage serving you, your Grace?”

“Ah!” The Duke’s eyes lit with a little spark of malicious interest which had already become familiar to even his newest guest over the course of the evening. “Fine work as ever, Mr. Falconer! Smooth as satin on the roads; you’ve truly outdone yourself. I don’t know, though…” He picked up his glass and took a long sip which somehow did not interrupt his smirk. “Now that I’ve seen it on the streets a few times, I’m not so sure about the…detailing.”

Teal immediately set down her silverware and placed her hands in her lap, which Shaeine knew was to conceal the clenching of her fists. Her parents both tensed but retained careful facial control. Presumably a carriage commissioned by the Duke himself would have been one of the special projects overseen by the Falconer family personally, which meant its decorations would have been designed and in large part hand-crafted by Marguerite.

“What seems to be the issue, your Grace?” Marguerite asked in an impressively even tone.

“I’m afraid I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Ehriban said lazily, lounging back in his seat and holding up his wineglass as if it were a royal scepter while gazing down his nose at her. “I haven’t the benefit of your…artistic education, my dear. Something about it just seems off to me, once I observe the vehicle outside the carefully staged environment of your showroom.”

“I confess I’m surprised to hear that, your Grace,” she replied, still outwardly calm. “I recall you expressed effusive satisfaction when we displayed the carriage to you here on the Manor grounds.”

“Yes, well, you can’t really expect me to make a properly informed decision without observing it in action. An enchanted carriage is meant to travel, after all! To be seen in a variety of circumstances. There’s simply no way one can appreciate its final effect by looking at it parked on the driveway.”

“Art is indeed contextual,” Marguerite agreed, shooting a laden look across the table at her husband, who was beginning to glower openly. “Perhaps when it is convenient for you, your Grace, I could revisit the detailing to incorporate any notes you have.”

“Ever so accommodating, Marguerite! I always know I can rely on your kind nature and professionalism. I suspect you’re a luckier man than you know, Geoffrey,” the Duke added with an insufferable wink.

“Oh, I assure you I know,” Geoffrey replied in a tense tone which only made Ehriban grin more widely. Dazan made no attempt to hide his chuckle, sawing off another chunk of meat.

Shaeine held her peace, glancing at Teal, who appeared to be meditating, and Lady Ravana, who had touched nothing except her wine and currently looked half-asleep at the table. Altogether she was less impressed than she could possibly have imagined with these apparent apexes of Tiraan nobility. It wasn’t that her own people were any less cruel, particularly among noble circles, but the Madouris were just so boorish. Such barbaric behavior would be an invitation for attack from all sides in Tar’naris, not just by those they personally insulted but by every other House which would see nothing but weakness in this casual display of poor manners.

“While we are talking business, though,” Duke Ehriban continued after letting his guests simmer in the discomfort for a deliberate few seconds, “it’s good that I have you here before the formal announcement goes out. I’m afraid this concerns you directly.”

All three Falconers, just having relaxed somewhat, visibly tensed. Shaeine did not, of course, but she understood the impulse; Ehriban’s expression utterly failed to conceal his malicious satisfaction in whatever he was doing. Dazan, whom she did not assess as intelligent enough to pick up on such cues, was also smirking intolerably, which told her that this was indeed the planned main event of the evening. A quick sidelong glance found Ravana staring down at her plate with the hollow expression of someone determined not to think too hard about anything happening around her.

“More regulations, then?” Geoffrey asked after enough seconds had passed to make it clear the Duke did not intend to continue until prompted.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Ehriban replied with a magnanimous wave of his hand. “I don’t suppose you heard about the half-demon incident here in the city just this month?”

Teal failed to contain an expression of alarm; the older Falconers glanced uneasily at each other.

“I’m afraid not, your Grace,” Geoffrey said warily. “I gather it can’t have been all that bad, then. Usually such things make considerable waves.”

“Easy enough for you to say from the comfort of your mansion,” Ehriban snorted in such an astonishing display of hypocrisy that even Ravana blinked. “I assure you it was a big enough deal for those caught in the middle of it. Some half-shondrict creature that had been masquerading as a laborer went feral and mauled a few teenagers before they subdued it.”

“Schanthryct,” Teal corrected in a whisper which fortunately the Duke seemed not to hear; Dazan shot her an irritated look.

“So,” Marguerite replied in a firmer tone than she had used to defend her own work, “a half-demon citizen who was clearly stable enough to hold down a job attacked several youths. I can think of a number of common teenage pastimes which might provoke someone to violence even without demon blood. The sort of ruffians who get up to such antics do like to single out those who are different.”

“Well, the details hardly matter, do they?” the Duke scoffed. “We simply can’t have demons ravaging citizens in the streets. It’s an utter mockery of law and order.”

“How lawful or orderly is it for citizens to harass minorities in feral packs of their own?” Teal demanded. “It sounds like the details matter very much, your Grace, otherwise you risk acting to solve exactly the wrong problem.”

“I’ll thank you not to lecture me on the running of my province, girl,” Ehriban snapped, and right then and there Shaeine decided that rather than watching for an opportunity to knock him down a peg, she was going to begin making efforts to arrange one. Best to keep that firmly private from her mother and Heral, though Nahil would gleefully help… “The point is that even a Duke must respect a public outcry, lest it turn into actual unrest.”

“What outcry was this, precisely?” Geoffrey inquired. “I subscribe to every major newspaper in Madouris and two from Tiraas, and this is the first I’m hearing about any of this.”

The Duke was beginning to look annoyed at these interruptions. “Let us take it as given that I have access to sources of information you do not, Geoffrey. This situation has compelled me to draft new restrictions upon the activities and movements of demonbloods…and the demonically touched of any sort.” He looked sidelong at Teal, not even troubling to conceal an expression of vindictive satisfaction. “Obviously, as these affairs concern your family directly, and you have been such staunch friends to House Madouri, it is the least I can do to provide you with forewarning.”

“As I understand it,” Shaeine stated, “such restrictions would overtly contradict the Tirasian Dynasty’s long-standing policies toward racial minorities within the Empire, and possibly the Writ of Duties itself.”

“So you do know a bit about Imperial governance,” Ehriban said irritably. She inclined her head in a gracious gesture, already thinking several steps beyond this conversation. She was right, and he knew it; more to the point, while House Madouri would love nothing more than to challenge House Tirasian, for a century they had not, which could only mean such a challenge would not only fail but backfire. Thus, he was not actually planning to do this. Rather, the play was here and now—not the proposed legislation, but the revelation of it to the Falconers.

Not for the first time that evening, Shaeine longed for the ability to surreptitiously communicate with her allies. Elves could have entire conversations under the nose of humans who were none the wiser, and even Vadrieny was quite sensitive to sound, but not to the degree necessary for her to convey such complex information without betraying that she was doing so.

“And who knows?” the Duke continued, once again affecting a genial demeanor. “Perhaps you can help me in shaping the necessary rules. After all, it must be said that you have a unique insight into the matter, is that not so, Teal? But then again, mayhap I am asking the wrong half. Let’s see what Vadrieny has to say about this!” He waved a hand at her. “Bring her out.”

Teal’s shoulders tensed as she drew in a sharp breath. “With all respect, my lord Duke—”

“The only necessary respect I need be shown is obedience,” he interrupted, eyes glinting in the white beams of the Scyllithene candelabra. Shaeine focused on the thing itself again, beginning to get a sense of what he intended.

“She…” Teal frowned deeply and swallowed. “I apologize, your Grace, but something is wrong. Vadrieny senses…danger. She says it would be hazardous to embody herself physically here.”

“You question the security of my house?” Ehriban demanded. “I assure you, I do not take risks with my own safety. My security here is absolute. Come now, there is no call for shyness, Teal.”

“Vadrieny is the furthest thing from shy,” Shaeine interjected. The man had the abominable rudeness to make a silencing gesture at her, still focusing upon Teal.

“I understand your need for discretion, and the pressure this may place upon you, so allow me to make the question easier. It is technically unlawful for any Imperial subject to be in the presence of a provincial governor without revealing themselves; in the eyes of a magistrate, this is considered evidence of hostile intent. Now, clearly,” he drawled, gesturing broadly around the table at his guests, “common sense dictates that we make allowances for circumstance, does it not? I am a reasonable man and I do not seek to discomfit my subjects unduly. But I have, here, the legal prerogative to insist upon meeting your demonic counterpart face to face, and I do hereby invoke it, Teal Falconer. Now, then!” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands before himself in a satisfied gesture. “Does that provide sufficient incentive to overcome your girlish reticence?”

“Your Grace,” Geoffrey practically growled, now gripping the arms of his chair as if about to lever himself forward out of it, “Vadrieny is an archdemon, not a misbehaving teenager. If she is warning of danger, it would be wise—”

“Enough,” the Duke interrupted, his convivial mask collapsing. “I have made my command clear.”

“I—we h-have been given a Talisman of Absolution,” Teal stammered, touching the artifact itself where it was pinned as usual to her lapel. “Vadrieny and I aren’t to be regarded as enemies by—”

“When last I looked,” the Duke said in a truly menacing tone, “it was Ehriban Madouri, not Justinian Darnay, who rules Tiraan Province.”

“I say, it’s just…Justinian, isn’t it?” Dazan piped up. “Without a surname, I mean. It’s a whole ritual formality, Father. The Archpope foregoes an identity beyond the office of…”

He trailed off as his father slowly turned his head to fix him with an exceedingly flat stare.

“Your Grace,” said Shaeine, “I must protest this.”

“Your protest has been heard,” he said impatiently. “Proceed, Teal. Or is it your intention to openly defy your liege before his entire household? I’m sure I needn’t remind you of the consequences to your business and family of forswearing my good graces.”

“This is a poor showing, your Grace,” Shaeine said coolly, seizing his attention again. “Where I am from, when one wishes to manufacture a pretext to create an incident, one does so in a plausibly deniable manner. Perhaps your Grace should consider trying this again when you have done sufficient preparatory work to withstand the inevitable inquisition of the Church and Empire into whatever results from—”

“You are not where you are from, Lady Shaeine,” he shot back, “as I’m sure you can see by the lack of spiders and general barbarism. If there is one consistent virtue of your people displayed since the Narisian Treaty, it has been the pragmatism and restraint not to bite the hands that feed you. This would be a most unwise moment to forsake that quality.”

“Don’t threaten her!” Teal snarled, slamming her hands down onto the table and half rising from her seat.

Except that it wasn’t in Teal Falconer’s nature to snarl, slam, or do any of that. The impulsive actions preceded her emergence, but Vadrieny was a split second behind, too fast even for Shaeine to warn her that she sensed a trap. Flames burst behind Teal’s eyes and in her hair; her clenched fingers upon the table lengthened into black claws which pierced the rich tablecloth.

And instantly, with a high-pitched keening sound that grated painfully upon the ears, the Scyllithene artifact beaming decorative light from the center of the table blazed with intense white radiance.

Vadrieny let out a shriek as multiple beams of white light concentrated directly upon her, staggering backward in a destructive flailing of arms that raked deep gouges in the table and smashed the heavy oaken chair she’d been sitting in.

At Shaeine’s side, the previously somnolent Lady Ravana burst out of her seat and fled from the room in the first sign of physical or mental coordination she’d displayed.

Shaeine herself reached within for the divine power, lashing out with a moving wall of silver light to sweep the hateful object off the table and smash it against the wall. That brought forth the second abrupt surprise, however, as contact with it caused an explosive backlash as if she had connected her power directly to a demonic source of similar concentration. Her own protective shield barely absorbed the burst of magic which impacted her directly, bowling her and her chair over backward.

Both she and Vadrieny ended up hurled forcibly away from the table, smoking slightly from the impacts, while the “lamp” continued to blaze fervently, untouched and apparently untouchable. Of course; there was only one source of power which would react violently to both Themynrite magic and infernal power, while still bypassing the Pantheon’s protection as embodied in the Talisman of Absolution.

Then the stomping of booted feet roared through the chamber as the doors opened and a dozen House Madouri soldiers streamed in, weapons at the ready.

“Attempting violence against your Duke?” Ehriban tsked reprovingly, sounding not the least put out for a man claiming to have just survived an attempt on his life. “I thought you had better judgment than that, Teal.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious!” Marguerite exclaimed, hovering protectively over the fallen archdemon, while Geoffrey had also risen from his seat, managing to place himself half in front of Shaeine before multiple battlestaves were leveled, causing everyone to freeze.

“I warned you,” Shaeine rasped, rising slowly and ignoring the weapons aimed at her. “This was…slightly clever, I’ll grant. Few would make plans against an exotic trinket such as they wouldn’t consider you might possess. But this is so obviously a plot of your own arranging it will disintegrate under the slightest challenge.”

“That only matters if anyone remains to challenge it,” the Duke said, grinning maliciously. He had pushed back from the table to cross his legs and now slouched in his thronelike dining chair, hands still folded before himself. “If I wished to charge you with something, to be sure, it would have to pass muster before a magistrate or the Empire. But when an attempt has been made to assassinate me? In the extremity of self-defense, you see, I have a great deal more…leeway.”

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