“Yes, I remember her,” Daniel murmured, still gazing absently at the photograph.

Clancy had known he would. He would wager Daniel Seifert could recall every person and incident that had crossed his path in the last ten years. It was one of the abilities that had made him invaluable as Clancy’s first lieutenant in Sedikhan’s security service for over two years. That, along with a lethal deadliness that was honed to razor sharpness, had made him a weapon more potent than any in Clancy’s extensive arsenal. “Yasmin is a very fine woman and terribly worried about Zilah.”

“She doesn’t look like her mother.” As Daniel recalled, Yasmin was an attractive woman in her late forties with an olive complexion and dark hair and eyes. The woman in the picture had a skin tone that appeared to be pale gold rather than olive. Her wideset eyes were slightly uptilted at the corners and were a beautiful shade of clear, pale green. Her hair wasn’t dark but a light tan, sunstreaked with gold, and tumbled down her back in a straight shining curtain.

“Her mother is a native of Sedikhan,” Clancy said. “Zilah’s only half Sedikhanese. But she’s intimately linked to those in power through her association with David Bradford.”

“Bradford?” Daniel tore his gaze from the photograph to glance up swiftly. “What the devil does Bradford have to do with this?”

“Zilah and he go back a long way.” Clancy paused. “You might say she’s something of a protégée of David’s.”

“Really?” Daniel’s lips twisted in a cynical smile. “And I heard he was so much in love with that copper-haired wife of his.” He studied the photograph appraisingly. “However, Zilah is certainly lovely enough to be any man’s prize ‘protégée.’ A little young for Bradford though, isn’t she?”