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full of exotic fish once. Luciena had sold them not long after the horses to pay the butcher. Now just a few lonely goldfish swam in lazy circles around the pool.

    The officer was young. Very young. Luciena judged him barely older than she was. Yet he wore the insignia of a lieutenant of the Palace Guard, a rank of no small responsibility. He was dark-haired, and quite tall with a not-unpleasant face; probably the son of some wealthy nobleman who’d bought him a commission in the Palace Guard to keep him out of trouble.

    “You are Luciena Mariner?” he asked, looking around the reception hall on the ground floor with open curiosity.

    Luciena had ordered Aleesha to bring her guest here. It was an imposing room with its Harshini-inspired fountain and its high-domed ceiling painted with a mural dedicated to the Goddess of Love, her mother’s favourite Primal God. Because of the murals, the reception hall didn’t look quite as empty as the rest of the house. The young man wasn’t fooled, however; she could see him taking a mental inventory of what must be missing from the room.

    “I am,” Luciena replied with as much poise as she could muster.

    “I have an invitation for you, Miss Mariner.”

    “From whom?”

    “Her Royal Highness, the Princess Marla,” the young man replied. “She requests that I pass on her sincere condolences for the loss of your mother, and asks if you would join her for lunch tomorrow, at her home, so she may discuss your future with you.”

    Luciena had to bite her tongue to prevent herself screaming at the sheer gall of the invitation.
    “Shall I arrive at the front door?” she asked with icy dignity. “Or would it be more appropriate if I sneaked in through the slaves’ entrance at the back?”

    The officer seemed rather startled by her reply. “I beg your pardon?”

    “Her Royal Highness has not seen fit to so much as acknowledge my existence until now, Lieutenant,” she told him. “I can only assume her shame at my baseborn status is the reason she ignored the vow she made to my father when they wed. I believe I can therefore confidently make the further assumption that the only reason she has chosen to acknowledge my existence now is because of the potential embarrassment I pose to her.”

    Luciena expected the officer to be offended by her words, but inexplicably he smiled. “Maybe that’s something you should take up with Princess Marla, Miss Mariner.”

    “And maybe I choose not to,” she replied stiffly. “What’s your name?”

    “Lieutenant Taranger.”

    “Well, Lieutenant Taranger, you may return to the palace and inform Her Royal Highness, the Princess Marla, that I am otherwise engaged.”

    “You’re refusing her invitation?”

    “You’re very quick, aren’t you?”

    “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some time to think about this?”

    “Thank you, but no.”

    “Very well,” he said, as if he wasn’t really surprised by her refusal. “I shall inform her highness of your reply.”

    Without waiting for her to answer, the young man saluted sharply and turned on his heel, his highly polished boots echoing through the hall as he crossed the tiled floor. Luciena held her breath, half expecting him to turn around, half expecting him to order the house torched for the insult to the High Prince’s sister, but the young officer did nothing but order his men to fall in behind and left the house without another word.

Chapter 2

    Jarvan Mariner, Luciena’s father, had been a commoner—a rough, ill-mannered, but essentially decent man. Elezaar the Dwarf hadn’t thought much about him since Jarvan had died more than six years ago, leaving Marla a widow for the third time, but now, as he waddled across the broad paved courtyard towards Marla’s office, he found himself thinking of little else.

    It’s this business with Luciena , the dwarf decided, tugging on his jewelled slave collar as he walked. He must have put on weight recently. It felt