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status. If the Marneys didn’t care about me, they wouldn’t ask the questions. Though I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth that I did not want a husband or even a lover. Morvilind held too much power over me already. If gave my heart to someone, he would have power over me, and there was no way I would ever voluntarily surrender that much power. 
    Not again. Not after the disaster of the one time I had fallen in love. I didn’t want to dwell on that, though, so I steered the conversation towards food.  
    Eventually, I helped Lucy make dinner, while James and Russell went onto the tiny back porch to grill steaks while Lucy and I made salad. 
    “Steak and leafy green vegetables,” said Lucy, washing a cucumber and passing it to me. I started slicing it up. “Just like you prefer.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “Protein and vegetables are the healthiest. And you didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me, you know.” 
    Lucy laughed. “What trouble? I’m making you chop the vegetables. I hate that part.” 
    “Fair enough.” I swept the cucumbers into the bowl.
    “For a computer programmer,” said Lucy, washing some more vegetables, “you’re in very good shape.”
    I shrugged. “I exercise a lot.”
    “I help with physical therapy at the hospital,” said Lucy. “Missing limbs from the battles in the Shadowlands, that kind of thing.” Her eyes strayed to the window over the sink. James stood at the grill, cane in one hand, and spatula in the other. “So I know the average fitness level of a woman your age…and you are way beyond that.”
    I shrugged again. “Like I said, I exercise a lot. I spend all day sitting at a computer, so the exercise is to make up for that.” I swept some more cucumbers into the bowl, hoping she would change the subject.
    “The…work you do for Lord Morvilind,” said Lucy, looking into the sink. “Is it ever…dangerous?”
    I said nothing for a moment, watching as Russell started to flip the steaks on the grill. 
    “Life is dangerous,” I said at last. 
    “Be careful,” said Lucy. “Please. For Russell’s sake. You’re all the family he has left.”
    “You’re his parents,” I said. “He doesn’t even remember our mom and dad. You’ve been there for him far more than I have.” 
    “You’re his sister,” said Lucy. “If he lost you, I don’t think he could handle it.” She swallowed. “We’d be upset, too. James and I. You can stay here whenever you want, you know.” 
    “Thank you,” I said. I never would, though. My “jobs” from Morvilind were far too dangerous. If I made a mistake, if I got arrested by Homeland Security or, God forbid, the Inquisition, and if the Marneys and Russell were with me when I was arrested…
    No. I would have be careful. That meant not staying here. 
    “Well,” I said. “Do you want to talk about our feelings some more, or should I crack some eggs for the salad?” 
    Lucy laughed at that. “So that is where Russell gets that smart mouth from.” She opened the refrigerator and handed me a carton of eggs. 
    By the time we finished the salad, Russell and James returned with the steaks, and we withdrew to the dining room. Like the rest of the house, it was small but cozy. On one wall was a cross and a picture of Jesus with some sheep. On the other wall was a portrait of the High Queen Tarlia, stern and regal in her silvery armor, with a banner bearing Morvilind’s hieroglyphs hanging from the frame. I’d asked Morvilind once why the High Queen had not crushed the churches the way she had destroyed so many other organizations and factions during the Conquest. 
    To my surprise, he had answered me. 
    “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s, is that not the traditional doctrine of the western churches?” Morvilind had said. “Those who can accept the High Queen as their Caesar…well, Her Majesty is a pragmatic woman, and she will leave them in peace so long as they serve