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continue.”
    “I will try, my lady.”
    “Twelve blessings on you.”
    “He’s not dead, then?” Stralg said.
    The voice behind her was unforgettable—deep and sonorous, but also imperious, very masculine. Like a war horn.
    She gasped with shock and spun around so hard she staggered.
    She looked up. He seemed taller every day. Still bony, all feet and hands and a boy’s loincloth like a linen flute. On his way to being very big. Gold bracelets adorned his wrists and a weighty pelf string laden with silver wisps encircled his neck. He had dark Florengian coloring, but the fierce eagle-beak nose was developing fast. Since his voice broke, Chies had sounded exactly like his father, and now was undeniably starting to look like him, too.
    “You sent for me. I thought he must be dead.”
    “No. Come.” She pushed past him and did not speak until they had passed through the sanctuary. She nodded approvingly to the senior Mercy and went out into the corridor with her willow-tree bastard slouching behind her.
    They walked together with her little lamp throwing bizarre shadows on the high walls. Typically, Chies had not bothered to bring a light. Perhaps young eyes saw better in the dark.
    “I wanted to tell you that Master Dicerno is pleased with your progress. He says you are trying very hard. I am happy to hear this, Chies.”
    Grunt. “That’s all?”
    Her mind groped for the right answer. Was there ever a right answer when dealing with adolescents? She had no experience. Dantio had been only a child when her first brood was stolen away. She was very old to be learning. Deep breath …
    “It is a sign of maturity. As a reward, and as long as you continue to progress, I will let you wear a dagger. You can choose—”
    “Why not a sword?”
    You could never score when the target kept moving.
    “Not until you know how to use one. You’d be a gift-wrapped prize to the first street thug you met.”
    “I’d still have my guards with me,” he said sulkily.
    “And if you run into trouble, you’ll just stand by without drawing and let them defend you?” But apparently the absence of a dagger was no longer the most important thing in the entire world, no longer a source of eternal shame. It no longer justified suicide, as it had a sixday ago. “Is there something you would rather have?”
    “Take girls to my room.”
    She needed several deep breaths for that one, but Master Dicerno’s strongest advice had been “Be just, be fair, and encourage him any chance you get.” Better his room than under a bush somewhere.
    “Have you taken girls to your room already?”
    Pause. “Maybe.”
    She knew he had tried twice and the guards had blocked him. But he had not told her a direct lie. Encourage him , the preceptor had said.
    “As long as you continue to be discreet I won’t mind. I’ll give you a key to the private door.”
    She stole a glance. He was pleased. Very pleased. Probably quite pink, although it was hard to say in this light. How long before he started giving away palace silverware? How long before the first little hussy cried rape or pregnancy?
    “You are almost grown up. At New Year, you’ll start wearing a seal and I shall take Master Dicerno’s teeth out of your leg. You may find your girlfriends’ brothers and fathers coming after you with cudgels, but that will be your problem.”
    “By then I’ll be doge.”
    “What!?” The echo of her cry rolled away along the concourse.
    He smirked down at her. “It has to be a man of the royal house and I’m the only one. Who else can they choose?”
    “Chies, Chies darling … I’ve never lied to you. You know that Piero is not your father.”
    “But you lied to everyone else.” Sneer. “He accepted me as his. Didn’t want to tell people his wife balled other men.”
    Piero could have handled this with a few quiet words. She couldn’t. She warned herself not to start screaming. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
    He laughed. “The