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me today? Any rumours you would like me to start, or information that you’d like me to obtain?’
    ‘Nothing specific, Femke. Please continue to listen carefully to current rumours. I don’t think you need add to the speculation at the moment. I’ll start feeding information to
the people after tomorrow’s coronation. Rumour of the event will spread fast enough when the Nobles get their invitations this afternoon. Just be careful and lie low for now. I’d like
you to be at the ceremony tomorrow. Do you have suitable clothing to pass as a Noblewoman?’
    Femke raised one eyebrow slightly and smiled. ‘Is the moon silver?’ she asked. ‘I’ll blend in, your Majesty. I’ve mixed with the Nobility before. I’m well
known to be the daughter of a country Lord from one of the coastal cities. There’ll be no problem with my attending.’
    ‘And are you the daughter of a Lord?’ Surabar asked with a smile. ‘I’m beginning to think nothing would surprise me about you, Femke.’
    ‘Not at all, your Majesty,’ Femke laughed. ‘But I enjoy playing the part.’
    ‘Good.’
    The General pulled a piece of parchment from the desk drawer, dipped his quill into the inkpot and wrote down a list of times in a neat, bold hand. He passed it over the table to Femke.
‘Here you are. Commit it to memory and destroy it. Tomorrow’s meeting is in the evening to give you a chance to report on information from the ceremony. Try to get a feel for who
amongst the aristocracy will support my rule, and how fully.’
    ‘What time will the ceremony start, your Majesty?’
    ‘The coronation will begin at the second bell past midday. There are invitations for all the local Nobles. I got the list from one of Vallaine’s records. His paranoia has served me
well – apparently he was having most of them watched to some degree. Here’s an invitation for you as well. Who should I make it out to?’
    ‘I’ll be there as Lady Alyssa, your Majesty,’ Femke replied, smiling brightly with anticipation.
    Surabar wrote the name onto the invitation and handed it to her. He watched her curtsy, turn and leave the room. He smiled as he considered the task he had in mind for her. Yes, he thought.
Femke will be perfect for the role. She’s younger than I’d like, but she’s more than sharp enough.
    Femke spent that night in luxury. It made sense to be close to the Palace and she wanted to reestablish her identity as the spoilt daughter of a rich Nobleman, so she booked
into the Silver Chalice, one of the most expensive guesthouses in Shandrim. Before she did so, Femke made a quick side trip to change into appropriate clothing and to arrange delivery of some
luggage to the guesthouse later in the day.
    Shandrim was an old city. It had been the capital of Shandar since before the great expansion of the Empire. The city centre had a few buildings that dated back centuries, but large areas had
been demolished and rebuilt when the present Imperial Palace was commissioned. The builders had used the opportunity to widen main streets, reducing the density of buildings and making the city
centre a lighter place. In contrast, the outer quarters of Shandrim had close-packed housing with dark, narrow streets. Criminal organisations flourished and competed, making the poorer sectors
dangerous to the unwary.
    Femke knew every street and back alley intimately. Her network of informants and agents was extensive. Other contacts supplied her with safe houses and storage for her stashes of equipment and
disguises. The nearest of these held all she needed for her role as a Noblewoman.
    A wig of dark hair, intricately curled and braided in an elaborate style, combined with careful make-up and exquisitely crafted clothing, changed Femke’s appearance so drastically that
none but those who knew her well would have recognised her. A carefully rehearsed haughty expression and a dismissive manner completed the disguise. Femke could not help but smirk as she