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as if they were chatting over a meal. But Lucia could see his eyes were fixed on the princess, studying her intently.
    “Yes, Sire,” Serra answered, giving away no hint of emotion. “He told me as much.”
    “You have secrets,” the king continued. “All my efforts to learn about your parents or your family turned up nothing. Your past is well hidden.”
    “My past is of no consequence, Sire. Your son accepted that.”
    “I have watched you these past three years,” the king admitted. “I could see that you loved my son. I could see you were devastated by his death.”
    Serra didn’t say anything, but Lucia could see moist tears beginning to form in her eyes as she thought back on memories of her husband.
    “Over the years I have come to appreciate those qualities my son saw in you. Your strength. Your intelligence. Your loyalty to our House.
    “But now my son is dead, and I cannot help but wonder where your true loyalties lie.”
    “I swore an oath to serve the Crown when I married Gerran,” Serra told him, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes. “Even though he is gone, I would not dishonor his memory by abandoning my duties.”
    “I believe you,” the king said after several seconds, his voice suddenly weary. “Though this brings me no closer to finding out who was behind the attack.”
    Silently, Lucia let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding.
    The king sat back down on his throne, his expression troubled by doubt and lingering grief over his son. Serra stepped forward and knelt by her father-in-law, close enough to put a comforting hand on his arm, ignoring his guards as they took a menacing step forward.
    “Your son was beloved by all the nobles of Doan,”she said. “And the rebels are universally despised. Anyone could have hired the assassin, with no knowledge whatsoever that the Jedi would be there. The Cerean’s death was an unfortunate accident, not some sinister plot.”
    “I fear the Jedi may not be so easily convinced,” the king replied.
    “Then let me speak to them,” Serra offered. “Send me to Coruscant. I will make them understand that you had no part in this.”
    “I have seen you in the halls these past months,” the king told her. “I know the pain you still carry over my son’s loss. I cannot ask you to do this while you are still mourning his death.”
    “That is why I must be the one to go,” Serra countered. “The Jedi will be more willing to show compassion to a grieving widow. Let me do this for you, Sire. It’s what Gerran would have wanted.”
    The king considered her offer briefly before nodding.
    Serra rose and took her leave with a bow. Lucia fell into step behind her as she left the throne room, only pausing at the doors long enough to collect her weapons.
    Only when they were back in the privacy of the princess’s chamber with the door closed carefully behind them did either of them dare to speak.
    “Take this somewhere and burn it,” Serra spat as she ripped the mourning veil from her head and cast it down to the floor. “I never want to see it again.”
    “I have something to confess,” Lucia said as she scooped the discarded garment up from the floor.
    Serra turned to look at her, but Lucia couldn’t read the expression on her face.
    “I’m the one who hired the assassin that killed Gelba,” she said, speaking quickly to get the words out.
    She wanted to say so much more. She wanted to explain that she had known nothing about the Jedi beingon Doan. She needed Serra to understand that she had done it only for her sake.
    Lucia had always sensed a darkness in the healer, a shadow on her spirit. With Gerran’s death that shadow had grown. She had seen her friend slipping into bleak despair as the weeks turned to months, listlessly wandering the halls of the castle in her black mourning garb like some tormented ghost.
    All she wanted was to try to ease the princess’s suffering. She thought that maybe if those