"My job isn't to stay hidden forever, Ms. mal ce Taeger. You're far too intelligent for that, and your father knows it. I'm here to guard you. That's all."

"And to help him interfere with every aspect of my life he can get his hands on. Right?"

Hart didn't answer. "How long have you been on to me?" Danae asked, for lack of anything better to say.

"Almost since you started at the university," Hart answered. "The 'Danae Panya' cover was one of your more transparent ones." He cocked a speculative eyebrow. "Almost as if you knew you'd never get to Triplet without some help."

She very nearly spat in his face for that one. What stopped her was the gnawing suspicion that he might just be right. "You think that, do you?" she snarled at him instead. "You think all this is just Daddy Dear's little girl nibbling on both ends of the pie? Trying to have things both ways?"

Hart's lip twitched, just noticeably. "I couldn't say, Ms. mal ce Taeger. If that'll be all...?"

Danae snorted. "As if my orders meant a damn to you. Sure, go on—get out of here."

He started to go, but then hesitated. "Ms. mal ce Taeger... will your friend be accompanying you to Triplet?"

"Who, Pirro?" She smiled lopsidedly. "Ah, yes—I suppose Daddy Dear's pretty annoyed by him, isn't he? His sweet, innocent daughter living with an ambitionless, borderline bum. Well, you tell him, yes, I'll certainly be taking him to Threshold with me. Maybe even into Shamsheer and Karyx if you've bribed the officials there adequately."

"As you wish," Hart said evenly. "I presume you'll want to give Pirro the good news personally. I believe he's still in the apartment building at the corner with the woman he escorted home from your party last night."

At her side, Danae's right hand curled into an impotent fist. "Get out," she whispered.

Hart nodded and slipped quietly outside, locking the door electronically behind him. Closing her eyes, Danae sagged against the wall beside her as the steel of her resolve turned to water and drained away. Pirro's tomcatting behavior was no real surprise—she was honest enough to admit that to herself—but the bluntness of the revelation had still hurt. As Hart had no doubt meant it to. The bastard.