“Madam,” he said at last, “I would ask after the welfare of His Majesty the King. One hears the strangest rumors.”

“What you have heard likely has an element of truth in it,” Estora replied. Javien’s pained expression at this admission was of no surprise, but it was as Estora and Laren had discussed.

“But it is so utterly fantastical,” the prince replied. “Too difficult to believe.”

“Rhovanny clearly has not been as affected by magical irregularities as Sacoridia has been,” Estora said. “It grieves me to tell you that this castle, my home, was breached by an entity the Eletians call aureas slee, an elemental being. It abducted my husband and then took on his form and pretended to be him. The Zachary you met was this changeling creature, not His Majesty.”

Tuandre’s counselors leaped to their feet as though to protest this misuse of safety on the prince’s behalf, but he waved them back to their seats. Laren sensed only honest concern and alarm from him.

“This is most extraordinary, my lady. Overwhelming. I offer my fullest desire that he be returned.” He paused, then added, “Do you not fear that if word of this gets out that your enemies will view this as some victory and think Sacoridia weak?”

“My husband has managed this realm for strength, and it is his will that guides me. Sacoridia has never been stronger. As for the aureas slee, it is a force of nature beyond mortal ken. It deceived us all for but a time, and it has been ousted.”

“What of His Majesty?”

“We do not know.”

“It is grave and unsettling news,” Tuandre replied.

“Yes. Unsettling and upsetting in the extreme that the father of my children, this realm’s sovereign, has vanished. We do not know where to even begin our search for him. However, it was his desire,” she continued, with a slight shift in her voice, “that Sacoridia and its neighbor, Rhovanny, rekindle their alliance of old in the face of the rising of ancient adversaries. Prince Tuandre, I have told you the truth of my husband’s disappearance, so you may know the reality of what we are facing. The aureas slee, the elemental, was likely bespelled by a magic user of Second Empire to wound Sacoridia and its king. We were attacked, and if we could be so attacked, then Rhovanny may also be in danger.”

“We have had no direct grievance with Second Empire,” Tuandre replied. “My father has been skeptical of the claims of imminent danger that have come from King Zachary.”

“Blackveil Forest does not border King Thergood’s land,” Estora countered. “My husband has shared with the king the awakening of that dark place and its master. The rising of Second Empire is in response to the forest’s restlessness. Does King Thergood believe King Zachary has been inventing these matters?”

A blush bloomed on Tuandre’s cheeks. “No, madam.” He bowed in his chair. “No insult was intended. But there has been little evidence of danger in Rhovanny.”

“Counselor Tallman,” Estora said, “would you please share with His Royal Highness what we know of Second Empire?”

Les Tallman stood and recounted the intelligence and confessions that had been collected regarding Second Empire’s activities, finishing with, “Second Empire will have mixed into your population, pretending to be Rhovan citizens. Some will probably hold rank within your military and governing bodies.”

“It is known to me,” the prince replied, “that King Zachary had communicated as much to my father. Some preliminary investigations have been conducted into the matter, but I will advise my father that we must go deeper.”

Though Laren’s ability was to detect honesty, it sometimes amplified her ability to read other aspects of a person. Tuandre might appear calm on the surface, but she could tell he was deeply troubled by all he’d heard. She was certain he’d convey his concerns to his father, but as the youngest of seven sons, she had doubts about how seriously he’d be taken.

She turned her gaze to one of the counselors who had accompanied him, an older gentleman of quiet but attentive demeanor. On occasion, he spoke softly in Rhovan to Tuandre. This gentleman exuded years of wisdom, and she sensed his judgment might carry weight with King Thergood.

The other counselor was average in appearance in every way, and she nearly dismissed him, but when her ability rippled against his mind, she recoiled. His thoughts seethed dark as pitch, and full of ill intent. She stood.

“Captain?” the queen asked, drawn from her conversation with the prince.

The man stared at her and it brought to mind a viper about to strike.

“Donal!” she cried as the man lunged from his chair, a stiletto drawn from his sleeve.

A CALLING, OF A SORT

The man whirled on Tuandre to the sound of screaming servants. The terriers barked and strained at their leashes. He raised his stiletto to plunge into the prince’s chest. In a blur of motion, Donal tackled him to the floor, wrenched his arms behind him, and knelt on the small of his back.

The prince stood. It had all happened so quickly that everyone else, including Laren herself, had frozen in place. Then chattering broke out among those present. Weapons made a barrier of themselves around Estora’s bed while Ellen assisted Donal with lifting the assassin to his feet and restraining him.

“Garmell,” Tuandre demanded, “what is this?”

The assassin replied acidly in Rhovan and spat at him. Donal and Ellen dragged him out, but as they did, he shouted in the common, “We will defeat you vermin! The empire rises!”