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“I am not–”

“There are still some who would seek to strap you to a pyre. Certainly something to avoid.”

Yennes could not be sure – the Queen’s expression was still a mask of careful dispassion – but she thought the words might have been a threat.

“I, too, would wish for privacy, should I possessunnaturalabilities.”

“I–”

“Useful, perhaps,” Alvira continued. “But dangerous in the wrong hands. Some believe such things ought to be eradicated all togeth–”

The Queen’s words fell short as Yennes raised her palms. The guards rushed to protect their Queen, drawing their short swords and moving to surround her.

But there was no lightning bolt that lashed from Yennes’ hands. They simply glowed brightly, a lattice work of ice and frost coating her skin from fingertip to wrist.

Yennes called the iskra to her palms but did not coax it further than that. Whatever threat the Queen perceived her to be, she did not encourage the idea now.

Alvira had clutched her hand to her chest, falling back into the folds of her guards’ protection, but now, she straightened. Her piercing gaze fixed to Yennes’ hands, mouth agape. “Mother almighty,” she intoned. “Iskra.”

Yennes held the magic in her palms and nodded cautiously.

Alvira pressed her hands to her gown, wiping them against the fabric. “Leave us,” she said suddenly, and it did not seem that she was addressing Yennes.

The guard nearest the Queen faltered. His mouth opened and closed before he uttered, “Your Majesty?”

“Get out!”she commanded. “Now.”

The guards did not question her. They eyed Yennes with trepidation as they melted down their various corridors, disappearing into the walls of the palace until it was just the Queen and Yennes, alone.

Alvira did not come closer. If she had thoughts, Yennes could not speculate their nature. Everything, from the Queen’s stance to the exact degree of her smile seemed precisely controlled. Yennes could not tell if she was about to be killed or welcomed.

But Yennes had seen the weapons toted by the guards. She could guess at the sheer number of men she had at her disposal. And hadn’t she just now demonstrated their obedience to her? The power with which she commanded them?

The thought bolstered Yennes, for if there was someone in this kingdom who might bear the means to fight Glacians, surely it was the woman before her.

“Iskra witch,” the Queen said.

Yennes balked at the name.

“How very…interestingit is to meet you. Why have you come?” her gaze darted back to Yennes’ palms.

“I heard your wife had taken ill,” she said cautiously. “I came here to offer my magic to heal her.”

“Her Majesty,” the Queen corrected.

“Her Majesty.” Yennes blinked.

Queen Alvira considered her for a moment. The silence stretched. “Well,” she ushered impatiently. “And what of the rest?”

“The rest?” Yennes frowned.

“Yes, child. Therest.Surely you did not come to my palace gate out of sheer benevolence. You would be the very first in history if that were the case. Now, what is it that you came here for,in exchange for curing my ailing wife.”

“So sheisailing?” Yennes asked, a remnant of her former self escaping.

Alvira’s careful smile dropped slightly, “I am afraid so.”

Yennes nodded. Whatever else this woman was, she was quite obviously heart-sore, dread-stricken. “I will not keep you from her bedside,” Yennes offered. “As I’ve said, I come from the Ledge–”