“What a day,” she murmured, gazing at the morning light pouring into her room. And it had hardly even begun.

• • •

A long soak was just the thing, though Karigan’s mind, too filled with all the revelations acquired since last night, would not allow her to doze off. The emperor was Lord Amberhill? Maybe it was because she was so tired, but the thought produced a latent chortle that sent ripples across the surface of the bath water. The revelation that followed, however, that Dr. Silk wished to acquire this dragonfly device, was far less shocking. But the idea that machines existed—machines that could drill through all the bedrock into the tombs—caused her to tremble, rippling the bath water once again.

And then there was Arhys. It was not the little girl being the heir that so staggered Karigan, but that she was directly descended from King Zachary and Estora. Queen Estora. She’d known the two would marry, and that offspring was inevitable. That was why royals married after all—to maintain the line of succession and the stability of the realm. No, these things were not unexpected, but the girl was a living, breathing extension of Zachary, a connection to Karigan’s own life, a link to Zachary himself.

Painful as it was, she thought she would always love him, no matter that he had to marry Estora, but Karigan’s feelings were tempered by her situation, that she now lived so many years—almost two centuries—after his death. Maybe she was better off in this time. Knowing he was entirely out of her reach, she would not be tempted to . . . she shook her head and splashed water on her face.

Even if she were back in her home time, even though she knew and understood the reality, she would continue to love him in her own way. She would always fight to protect him, and if that meant helping to protect Arhys? There was no question that she’d do so with all her being.

With that, she sighed and rose from the now lukewarm water to see what the rest of the day held for her.

• • •

Apparently it held obsequious servants. Lorine awaited in Karigan’s bed chamber and curtsied when she entered. Lorine had been quiet, respectful, and efficient before, but now there was a distance as she helped Karigan into her morning dress; no cheerful conversation, just silence. Fewer smiles. When she finished the stays on Karigan’s dress, she backed away, curtsied again, and asked, “Would Miss Goodgrave like me to help her with her hair?”

There had never been any question before—Karigan had always welcomed Lorine’s help with her hair, especially since her broken wrist made everything more complicated. She nodded and sat in her chair so Lorine could begin. Lorine had always seemed to enjoy brushing out Karigan’s long hair, and then either braiding it, or pinning it up. Today, as the horsehair brush worked through her locks, she detected no enjoyment from Lorine, and shifted uncomfortably.

When her hair was done, she left her room to attend breakfast. Lorine followed at a polite, subservient distance. When she reached the dining room, the professor’s butler, Grott, bowed to her and pulled out her chair.

“Good morning!” the professor called cheerfully to her from his end of the table. One would never know from his present demeanor the disaster that had almost struck earlier this morning.

Beside him, Cade nodded his greeting, quickly averting his gaze. The other students were absent.

“Good morning,” she murmured.

Ham, eggs, sweet buns, and tea were brought to her by bowing servants. They even spread butter and strawberry preserves on her toast for her. The professor watched with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Karigan had the dreadful feeling that whatever she’d said to Mirriam, who was nowhere in sight, had trickled down through the rest of the staff. She barely tasted her food, regretting having lost her patience with the woman, yet she had enough of being endlessly badgered. At times Mirriam was worse than all four of her aunts together. Still, she feared losing possible allies among the staff, and she needed allies in this hostile world. She sighed heavily.

“That was certainly heartfelt,” the professor said.

She looked up in surprise. The professor was already into his kauv and paper of news. Cade had slipped away unnoticed.

“A little preoccupied, my dear?”

“It’s been a long day,” she replied.

“Already?” He chuckled, then said, “You should know that it has been made clear to this household that only you, Luke, and Luke’s lads are allowed to go anywhere near Raven. It’s also been made clear that you will visit Raven as you wish and that no one is to discourage you from doing so.”

Karigan wanted to cheer. At least something positive had come of this morning’s events.

“Luke has, of course, been notified as well. You may trust him with . . . whatever may be required.”

Did this mean Luke was aware of the professor’s opposition to the emperor and his various secrets? She could not ask openly and could not come up with a discreet way of asking. In any case, she would proceed cautiously.

“How is Arhys?” she asked. She noted a slight quickening of interest from the servants.

“She has already endured one lecture from me this morning.” A slight smile formed beneath his mustache. “She is confined to her room for the day so she can contemplate her actions of this morning.”

Probably deepening her hatred for me, Karigan thought, but at least the staff knew that Arhys had been the one in the wrong, that she had misbehaved and endangered herself and that Karigan had not been hurting her but saving her life. Karigan did not want the entire household turned against her. Arhys was ostensibly one of them, and who was Karigan but some stranger who had arrived out of nowhere, now living in relative luxury beneath her “uncle’s” roof?