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Two weeks into her new assignment, Kat decided she was even less suited to the role Adrien had foisted upon her than any of the other responsibilities she’d been saddled with since he upended her life. She had no leads on who their traitor might be and no idea how she was meant to scrounge themup.

She did, however, have an excuse to rejoin the highborns’ fancy breakfast. Under the guise of acting as Adrien’s full-time security, she mopped up the sunny, golden yolk of a perfectly poached egg with a slice of bread still steaming from the cookfires and watched as the prince forced himself to sit through a civil meal with four people he thought might be passing information to his enemies.

If Kat hadn’t known, she never would have suspected Adrien didn’t want to be there.

She kept catching him ducking his head into the crook of his elbow when Bodhi said something charming, Daya said something brash, or Celia did nothing but try to maintain her air of casual nonchalance.

When Faye scolded Daya for her table manners, he made a show of mirroring her mannerisms, holding his fork and knife just so until she caught on and scolded him as well.

The more time Kat spent with the highborns, the more she understood how deeply the roots of their friendship ran.

The five of them had been through six years of monastic training side by side, had no peers but one another, and were all confronting a sudden introduction to the wider realm as best they could.

And with every mile that collapsed between their advance and the capital, they were getting closer and closer to the end of it all.

Taken like that, it was no wonder the highborns had refused to take up their posts with the legions Adrien had assigned them to.

This was their last chance to squabble over meaningless quibbles at the breakfast table before those quibbles became full-blown political issues that would take fraught meetings and careful negotiations to solve.

She couldn’t fault Adrien, even as he rolled his eyes and pulled sour faces every time he was dragged into an argument, for savoring something he knew wouldn’t last.

There was just the small matter of the investigation. The little thing where the prince suspected one of these people—these people who, though Kat would never dare say it out loud, seemed to make him happy—was actively trying to get him killed.

Then it happened. Bodhi cracked a joke. On its own, it never could have made it through Adrien’s defenses—he had six years of practice while locked up in that monastery, training himself not to laugh at Bodhi’s jokes.

But when he’d said it, Faye had hitched in surprise, and the egg-laden toast she held dropped unceremoniously into her lap.

Faye paused, flushing, and it felt like the whole table held its breath.

A bright, sudden laugh burst out of her, so winsome the hosts themselves would have a hard time not mirroring it, and though Adrien wore enough of their gold to scour the Demon Lord from this plane, it wasn’t enough to save him from the grin he cracked.

It was a lightning strike, gone just as soon as it came, but from the way everyone around the table blinked, its impact was just as searing.

“He’s having fun,” Bodhi whispered.

“I’d be having more fun if the two of you sorted out whatever it is that’s still going on with your couriers,” Adrien replied, eying Celia and Daya, but the blush that painted his pale cheeks was stark, obvious, and damning.

After breakfast, Kat trailed the prince to his meeting in the command tent, taking up a post outside the entrance with the rest of the forty soldiers now arrayed in guard positions.

She could have followed him in—and probably should have, given that the heat was starting to swell into the full bloom of a late-summer afternoon that had her longing for the more arid climate they’d left behind in the midlands.

But time away from Adrien was sparing, and she had to take as much of it as she could, especially when it meant more time with her fellow soldiers.

Today’s assortment was from the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth decades—all of them separated from her by the usual order of the ranks.

But if she’d been hoping to bond with them, and in the process convince them she was a humble member of their number and not the prince’s pet spearbearer, the effort was thoroughly spoiled by Faye Laurent sweeping up to her side and asking, “May I have a word, Katrien?”

Kat fought not to let her alarm show. None of the prince’s companions had ever tried to speak to her alone before, and her thoughts immediately stumbled into Mira’s warning about token thievery.

Surely Faye Laurent found that sort of thing beneath her—or at least, that was what Kat hoped, as she was in no position not to oblige her.

“Your Grace,” she said with a nod and allowed herself to be beckoned to the edge of one of the nearby supply wagons, which was parked close enough that she could keep eyes on the command tent’s entrance for the moment Adrien emerged.

“I’ve been thinking about you since you rejoined our number,” Faye declared. “Forgive me for saying this, but I don’t think the prince has been very considerate with your time.”

Kat made a valiant effort to keep a straight face and a tactful tongue as she replied, “Well, there have been higher concerns lately.”

“True as that is, I thought you were making great strides with your token before, and I’ve noticed that you haven’t gotten any time to practice recently. I wanted to check to see if there was anything I could do to help make that time for you.”

In answer, Kat slid into alignment, her token shining radiant through the fabric of her tunic.

Faye was right enough—in the time since they’d departed Fallon, Kat hadn’t been drilling with Mira, but there were plenty of long hours standing behind Adrien in logistics meetings where she’d had nothing to do but hone her understanding of Roberto’s artistry.

Putting it into practice was becoming as natural as breathing.

Faye straightened, clasping her hands as a cheery smile spread over her lips.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, ” she said, and though Kat wasn’t feeling charitable, it was impossible to read the noblewoman as anything but sincere.

“You’ve come so far in such a short time.

It’s a pity you don’t have another token to begin working on.

Your grasp on your first is good enough that it’s certainly prime time to start cultivating a second. ”

“Maybe I’ll ask the prince to loan me one,” Kat joked.

Faye’s smile dropped, replaced with first a horrified look, then a flustered one. “I’m so sorry,” she said, cupping one hand over her mouth. “I must admit, though it’s been months on the road, I’m still not used to the rough ways of…the common,” she finished, pulling a face at her own lack of tact.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Not wrong, per se, just a little uncouth,” Faye replied. “It’s not proper to speak of adopting another’s gold, given the means one must go through to acquire it.”

“Because I’d have to beat him up to take it?” The quip was risky, given their circumstances, but Kat needed the temperature check on the duchess’s intentions.

Faye hid a decidedly unladylike snort behind one hand. “That’s one way, yes. But the other would be to somehow join the ranks of his family and entitle yourself—quite literally—to a portion of the Augustine vault.”

Kat blanched. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No one would have thought you did,” Faye assured her hurriedly.

What’s that supposed to mean? Kat wanted to blurt, but she needed to take the outs where she could get them. “I can assure you, I have no designs on the prince’s hand.” After a beat, she added, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

It was a bold bit of bait to dangle before the duchess, but Faye surprised her with a self-deprecating scoff.

“It’s very kind of you to think the prince would consider me,” she said.

“I know it’s the game we’re all meant to be playing, but there’s little I can do to make myself a realistic prospect. ”

“What makes you think that?” Kat asked, hoping it wasn’t rude to doso.

Faye laid a hand over her array. “The others will tell you about their family vaults—about all the cultivated tokens their lines hold in reserve—but for the Laurents, I’m afraid these seventy-five are all there is.

Though we have domain over Halston and Rusta within it, though these lands we walk are technically my inheritance, my house has very little to show for it in the way of Aurean power.

I’ve done my best with each and every one of my tokens, but it can’t make up for the fact that I’ve reached the limits of my potential as an Aurean and can only hope to better myself through marriage or brutality—which is to say that I can only hope to better myself through marriage. ”

“Are you sure about that, Your Grace?” Kat asked. “I don’t know many who’d fare well against an Aurean more decorated than Magnus Lythos. Present company included,” she added with a nervous chuckle.

“My objection to brutality isn’t because I’m afraid I won’t be capable of it,” Faye replied. “Quite the opposite. I find myself in a position where there is no possible honorable way for me to usurp another’s token. I can only hope for generosity, which I find to be the worst sort of pity.”

“Well, I suppose that’s very nice of you,” Kat said, resisting the urge to fold her hand over her own token in equal parts relief and reassurance.

For all Faye seemed to value propriety, Kat wondered if she was aware how much it was strangling her.

All these rules, all of them, at least to Kat’s mind, made up, and none of them could help Faye’s prospects.

“You make it sound…calculating,” she hazarded.