“But I didn’t know the man was a Firenzcian, Ambassador,” ci’Bella protested. “I swear it by Cenzi. He seemed lost, and I only escorted him through the palais…”

“You showed him through the corridors for the palais staff, the corridors that only authorized staff are permitted to access.”

“It was the quickest way…”

“And it was also a way that someone wishing to harm the Kraljica or to prowl about the palais would desire to know and use.”

“But I didn’t know…”

Sergei smiled. He rubbed at the carved nostrils of his false nose, where the glue holding it to his face itched. “I believe you, Aaros,” he said gently, smiling. “But I don’t know if that’s the truth. Perhaps you’re a skilled liar. Perhaps you’ve helped other people find their way through the palais corridors. Perhaps you’re an agent of Firenzcia yourself. I don’t know. ” He plucked a set of clawed pincers from their loop and stood with an effort, his knees cracking once more. The garda pushed himself off the wall, moving forward to Aaros.

“But I will know,” Sergei told the man. “Very soon…”

Allesandra ca’Vorl

Allesandra knew that there would be a backlash to her decision to hold a state funeral for Ambassador Karl ca’Pallo. She just hadn’t expected it to be quite so vitriolic nor so rapid.

Her aide Talbot entered her chamber with a quick warning knock. “I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Kraljica,” he said with an elegant half-bow as her domestiques de chambre diplomatically left the room. “A’Teni ca’Paim is here to see you. She insists it is ‘vital’ that she see you immediately.” Talbot frowned. “I swear, the woman doesn’t know how to speak in anything but hyperbole. If her breakfast is late, it’s a crisis.”

Allesandra sighed and set down her fork. “It’s about our request to use the Old Temple for Karl’s funeral?”