"Come now. He can handle whatever trouble the Emperor throws his way."
"That's precisely what worries me," Milan replied.
"Jolthar's way of dealing with problems would only create more trouble for the future."
Sarojina, who had been listening quietly as they walked, glanced at her sons with an amused expression.
Jolthar, meanwhile, said nothing. He had the distinct feeling that the three of them were enjoying his predicament far more than they ought to.
They had crossed the second bridge when the maid appeared.
She stepped out of the shadow of a stone pillar — young, dressed in dark blue silk with the silver crescent pin of the Second Empress's household on her collar. She bowed low, her hands folded, and when she straightened, her eyes went directly to Jolthar.
"Count Kaezhlar." Her voice was quiet and practiced, the voice of someone trained to deliver messages that never existed.
"Her Grace the Second Empress requests your presence. Immediately."
