It was the third evening after Janna's death.

Amanda thought it both fascinating and a little macabre that she found herself counting time from that point. In the bigger picture, the failed attempt to take out a corrupt Emperor in a single blow was the more important event. But that seemed so distant to her. Janna's death was something more personal, something she had "witnessed," if only indirectly.

It was also the first evening that Duric allowed himself to fully enjoy his slaves.

Amanda did everything in her power to bring him pleasure again. She and Tanyee had already discussed how to go about it once Duric felt up to it again. When the time came, their coordination was superb. They moved smoothly about Duric's body, each one alternately pleasuring him while the other pleasured her.

Duric seemed a bit distant at first, as if he were there in body only. But as the evening wore on, and as his slaves applied their skills, they drew him back. By the time evening had turned to night, he was moaning deeply and loudly, more so than they could remember. It was then Amanda knew that they had managed to make him forget his pain for a little while.

"Enough!" Duric finally called out in a heavy pant after they had made him climax for the fourth time. He closed his eyes and gestured for them to come to his side.

Amanda and Tanyee smiled and snuggled against his body. He slipped an arm around each, hugging them tightly and holding them for a long moment.

Amanda felt him trembling. She chose not to note it. A good slave would not, and he needed her to be a good slave that night.

Finally, Duric loosened his grip. "Tanyee," he said softly.

She lifted her head. "Yes, Master?"

"Go to your quarters. I need to speak with Amanda alone."

Tanyee nodded. "Yes, Master." She slipped out of bed, padding silently around the foot of the bed and into her quarters.

Amanda tensed a bit. Duric could feel it himself.

"Like a scroll, Amanda."

Amanda looked up. "Master?"

"The way I can read you. The way I could read you all along."

Amanda opened her mouth but closed it again without saying a word. She didn't know how to react, or whether it should concern her. "Master, have I done something wrong?"

Duric laughed. "Oh, Amanda, you are so predictable sometimes."

Amanda was more confused now than ever.

"Amanda, I have two things to say to you," said Duric. "The first is that I am grateful to you."

"You are, Master? For what?"

"For what you said to me that day. You prevented me from making a dreadful mistake. I am ... not myself without Janna ..." he said in a subdued voice, his eyes turning cloudy. "But ... I would have been far worse had I had the blood of all those men on my hands as well."

Amanda managed a small smile, but then withdrew it. She was not sure if it was at all appropriate now. She was simply glad that her effort had been recognized, but beyond that, she did not know how she should feel.

She had agonized over whether she had done the right thing very soon after that day. She could not escape the fact that his decision had come down to the word of a fifteen-year-old girl. She wanted to think of herself as mature, that she deserved to be heard and recognized. But, ultimately, she was uneasy with the responsibility that came along with it.

She felt like she had a lot of growing up to do. It took the events of the last moon for her to fully realize that.

"The other thing I need to tell you, Amanda, is that I am ending your contract. I am sending you back to Roquan."

Amanda's thoughts dissolved. In their wake first came shock. Then a twinge of disappointment. But by far, the most powerful her emotions was the last: elation.

"Yes, I thought that would make you happy," Duric said with a sardonic smile.

"Um ... Master, have I displeased you in any way ...?"

But Lord Duric was shaking his head even as she spoke. Duric gently nudged her away and sat up in bed. "You no longer need the act, Amanda. You no longer need to play the part of the good slave."

Amanda felt vaguely insulted, even though she knew it was just confirming her own feelings. She said not a word to him, as if by continuing to play the act even when she supposedly no longer needed to do so allowed her to exercise one last bit of defiance.

Duric smiled and gently stroked her hair. "Amanda, you are very, very skilled. You are at least as good as Tanyee in pleasuring a man. Or a woman for that matter. You obey. You show me loyalty. You are intelligent, which is indeed something I admire."

"Thank you, Master," Amanda said dutifully.

"And there is where it falls flat. This is a duty for you. You don't have a love for it like Tanyee does. Like any slave that I have seen does."

Amanda said nothing. Her eyes glistened.

"But then when you were standing there in the conference room, giving everyone a dissertation on the Battle of Selemas Keep, that was the very first time I sensed an enthusiasm from you that was based on true enjoyment of what you were doing."

"Master, I enjoy having sex with you. I enjoy doing things you tell me to do," Amanda protested, even though she knew she was speaking out of turn. She figured it did not matter anymore. She was not trying so much to make him reconsider as she was preserving her reputation. She did not want him telling Roquan that she had failed as a slave.

"Yes, you do enjoy the act. You can even show enthusiasm for it. I do not deny that, Amanda. But the motivation behind it is so different than what I saw that day before my staff. So very different."

Amanda was truly at a loss. She did not even know what she was supposed to feel at this point. Remorse for "failing" him? Happiness that her slave training had not stopped her from enjoying things she truly desired? Vindication that her intelligence had been noticed?

"I am not angry with you," said Duric softly. "Nor will I punish you. Nor will I tell Roquan you are a bad slave. On the contrary, you try very hard. And you fulfilled a need in the short term. But, in the long run, you are not the kind of slave I want."

Amanda tried not to feel upset and failed. It was still a rejection. But she struggled with the reasons why it upset her. She felt like it somehow validated the idea that she was only a slave and nothing more. In terms of Narlassi society, at least, it was all she would ever be good for despite her other abilities.

Her gaze dropped. Duric placed his fingers under her chin and gently lifted it.

"I need to contact Roquan tonight. I will inform him of my decision. If he sees fit, he will start powering his Portal in the morning and you can be back by tomorrow evening. I am truly sorry it did not work out, Amanda."

Amanda could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a hint of sadness as well, as if he would miss her despite what he had said. "I am sorry as well, Master," she whispered, her own words holding an element of truth.

Duric stroked her cheek. "I have no doubts, Amanda, that Roquan will find the right Master or Mistress for you. He has a great knack for that. And, to be honest, he did warn me up front that you may not have been a good match for me."

That made Amanda feel a little better. At least Roquan knew from the start that it might not work out. At the same time, however, she felt some anger towards him. She thought he might have at least warned her. She would not have felt as pressured.

"Now, you are free to retire for the evening. You and Tanyee may pleasure each other if you need some time to get to sleep."

"Yes, Master, thank you."

Amanda slid off the bed and trotted into the bedchamber she shared with Tanyee for the last time.

Q'ixanna stood impassively as the Portal exploded into existence in the arrival chamber deep inside the dungeons of the Mage Guild Hall. He glowered as the form of the wayward Mage stepped through.

"And here is the Mage that showed no interest in returning to the Guild Hall!" Q'ixanna's voice boomed in the chamber. "Hah!"

His last syllable was nearly drowned out by the resounding boom of the Portal closing behind Q'yros. "Give it a rest, Q'ixanna!" Q'yros snapped. He very nearly pushed the older Mage aside as he left the chamber.

The Guild Master frowned deeply and followed alongside in the dank corridor. "You are here for only moments and now you insult me with your attitude. An attitude, I will remind you, that led to you deciding to leave the Hall for a healthy amount of time."

Q'yros spun around and confronted him. "Allow me to correct your faulty memory," he said in an icy voice. "It was you that 'suggested' I leave. You made it my decision only after the fact to save face because you were losing the only Mage that knew the difference between the opening of a potion flask and his own bodily orifices."

"Ah-ha! And now the real reason for your return!"

Q'yros sighed and rolled his eyes. "I want nothing of this."

He turned away, but Q'ixanna stopped him. He shook a finger angrily in the Mage's face. "Tell me that you are not here to influence the others! That you are not attempting to weaken my position! That you are not interested in the Guild Master position again!"

Q'yros smiled humorlessly. "Yes, I had expected this. And I am quite, quite tired of people being paranoid."

He reached into his robes and extracted a scroll which he held out to the Guild Master.

Q'ixanna took a step back, as if afraid. He looked down at the scroll and the back up at Q'yros in puzzlement.

"Take it. Read it. Now. Please."

Q'ixanna frowned as he took the scroll. His eyes widened at once when he saw that Q'yros had ended it with an Oath Seal.

The scroll read: I, Vantha Q'yros, High Mage of the Guild of Magery of Oceanus, vow in perpetuity never to seek the position of 'Guild Master' so long as Wytho Q'ixanna remains in office. I also vow to do nothing, directly or indirectly, that would undermine or weaken his position, or cause others to seek to do the same. I so pledge this against an indelible and unbreakable Oath Seal.

Q'ixanna was stunned. An Oath Seal was not done likely. It bound the Mage to the agreement. To break such an agreement would lead to the painful and horrific death of the oath breaker.

"Now can we finally put inane politics and posturing to the wayside?" Q'yros demanded.

"Then why are you back at the Guild Hall, Q'yros?" Q'ixanna asked as he lowered the scroll, his voice filled more with curiosity now rather than suspicion.

"It should be obvious to you. I wish to continue research into the hostile Portals. And I am sure you have heard that I no longer have a job with the Emperor."

"Hrmph. I am sure there is much more to that than what I have heard."

"And I will tell you all of it. The entire sordid story."

The Guild Master frowned. Someone that valued secrecy as much as he never took such an open offer of information at face value. "Why?"

Q'yros' face took on a dark look. "Because, my dear Q'ixanna, I fear we will face a war on two fronts. Both our unseen enemy and the Emperor."

Q'ixanna's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious? Just what did you do to incite his anger, Q'yros?!"

"He called it upon himself! And I will tell you everything, but later. At the moment, I am quite fatigued. It took me two days just to get the infernal Emperor to power his Portal for my travel here."

The Guild Master's eyes narrowed. "Does this have anything to do with the rumors of a civil war?"

"It is not rumor, it is fact. The fighting simply has yet to start. And we will need to decide what side we are on."

"No side!" Q'ixanna exclaimed, scandalized at the very idea. "We will remain neutral! We will provide services to either side as needed!"

"I hope to convince you otherwise on that matter. But in the morning."

He turned and continued his way out of the dungeon, occasionally glancing into other chambers where apprentices were busy practicing more dangerous magicks, or more experienced Mages were honing their skills at particular spells. This was the main reason for these levels below the earth: safety. The walls were dense in infused with minerals that helped dampen magical effects, keeping collateral damage from magical explosions to a minimum.

At the top of a set of wide stone steps at the end of the passage, Q'yros waved his staff before a heavy iron door. Magical locks disengaged, and the door swung open, allowing the two Mages into an elegant corridor.

The door swung closed with a hollow thud, the locks clacking loudly as they engaged again. Q'yros turned to the Guild Master. "Tell me, Q'ixanna. Have you discovered anything new of the artifacts?"

"You will be silent about that!" Q'ixanna hissed.

Q'yros sighed. Since the Guild Master would likely view continued mention of it where others could overhear as undermining his position, the Mage relented. "Very well. But have you discovered anything more?"

"Just some more unusual energy patterns, but nothing related to Portal energies. It must be the result of a secondary spell on the object."

Q'yros looked thoughtful. "Any more information on the Portals themselves? I have been too busy in the last quarter moon to do more of my own research."

"Just that the focus energy is definitely coming from the point of origin. It arrives mere moments before the Portal itself forms. It is being projected with pinpoint accuracy."

Q'yros nodded, his eyes dark.

"But how are they doing it, Q'yros?!" the Guild Master demanded, almost pleaded. "How?!"

Q'yros thought it ironic that, now that Q'ixanna thought his position safe, he was not above begging Q'yros for help. "I don't know. But I guarantee you, Guild Master: I intend to find out."

The Mage turned from the Guild Master and began walking to his room.

Gronnus folded his arms tightly across his chest as the Portal opened just outside his Manor gate. He frowned as the merchant stepped from it.

"So, do you come to pillage yet more slaves from me, Jollis?" Gronnus called out.

The Wanderer stepped from the Portal. He nodded to his cohort, the one holding a fake focusing pearl to continue to maintain the illusion. The Portal even closed with the typical resounding boom behind him, even though the Inonni could open and close Portals almost silently now.

Jollis strode forward. "I am not here to take anything that is yours. Save for shelter."

Gronnus' eyebrows went up. "I beg your pardon?"

"It is as we discussed previously. I require asylum. You will give it to me."

"Oh, I will, now, will I?"

"Yes. You will regret it if you do not. And there are potentially great rewards for you if you do."

The Overlord's glower faded. He let out a gusty sigh. "Very well, Jollis. I will find some quarters for you. Fortunately you have left me with a great many empty ones!"

"As I have said, I will trouble you no further with my demands in that area. You have given me all that you can."

"It's about time," Gronnus grumbled as he led Jollis through the gate. "I have been bled dry by you. And you refuse to tell me what you have done with them!"

"It is not your concern. You sold them to me, they are for me to do as I please."

Gronnus grumbled further to himself but otherwise dropped the subject. "What is this I hear now of civil war?"

"It is true," said Jollis. "The Nobility rise up against the throne. The opening confrontation was inconclusive. This will last awhile."

Gronnus snorted. "This is no better than having my slaves taken from me! Commerce will be devastated in the empire!"

Jollis gave the Overlord a patient smile. "You do not understand. You need to read your history more, Overlord. War presents opportunity. You simply have to know where to look for it and how to exploit it. That is where our future lies."

Gronnus sighed. "I suppose I have no choice."

At the same time, his tone was not very combative anymore. In truth, he was already starting to think about what he might do with a badly-needed infusion of platinum.

Jollis' thoughts were vastly different. They instead focused on how to keep Gronnus at arm's length until he was in position to remove the wayward Overlord from the equation altogether, hopefully without killing him. Or letting someone else take care of the distasteful task for him.

Gronnus' usefulness had been limited to his slaves, and now that had dried up. Despite having received the most experienced of them, Jollis' master told him their travels had not been diverse enough. It was another reason that Jollis had gambled on sowing chaos. It would give the Inonni a means to make up for the limited number of Portal targets.

But now that he had a delay imposed upon him, he intended to take maximum advantage of it.

He needed a much more diverse set of well-traveled Oceanus people. People whose memories could be magically read, and the images of the locations of their travels used to direct Portals from the Inonni lands.

That was the leap that the Oceanus Mages had yet to make, that the mind could indeed be "read" using magic. They had gone down the wrong path a century ago and had simply dismissed it as being impractical. Even then they were so filled with ego and self-importance that they failed to see their own mistakes. They were already becoming mired in "traditional" approaches to magic a century ago.

Meanwhile, the Inonni broke out of this thinking, and this was the result: Portals that needed no focusing pearl, Portals that could be targeted by thought alone.

"Here," Gronnus said, gesturing at one of the tiny houses that normally served as slave quarters. "This is all I can give you."

Jollis nodded. "It will do well, I thank you." He gave the Overlord a respectful bow. "Now, I will retire for the night. It has been a trying day. I will speak with you in the morning, and we will begin planning how to take mutual advantage of the war."

Gronnus stood silently and watched the merchant enter the building. He stared for a few moments longer at the door after it had closed behind Jollis before finally folding his arms and heading away.

"I have failed you, Roquan. I beg forgiveness."

Roquan regarded the image of Duric silently for a few moments. He had never seen Lord Duric so utterly exhausted, or looking so defeated. He felt a strong sense of sympathy for the Noble Lord.

"You do not need to do this, Duric," said Roquan in a low voice. "You did all that you could. You did all that you were capable of doing."

Duric's jaw tightened. "And it was not good enough. Not ... not for Janna."

Roquan drew in his breath and let it go as a slow sigh through his nose. "I heard. I grieve for your loss."

Duric swallowed. "It was senseless."

"I don't believe so, Lord Duric. She got your armies close to the Imperium."

"But we could do nothing once we got there! We were outmatched!"

"Just barely. And you helped unmask the Emperor's collusion with the Urisi. The other Overlords may reconsider their dealings with the Urisi after this. And I am sure that this will galvanize the other Lords as well. You will have a united front against the Emperor."

"In what will be a long and protracted war. And we will have no chance against the Imperial Navy."

"If they fire on vital ports, they sever their own wrists. The merchants will boycott the Emperor."

"I am more concerned about how we will get around to various parts of Oceanus. Only half of the empire is on the mainland. Most of our sympathizers are scattered on the islands."

"I will insure that the Overlords make their Portals freely available for use to the Lords."

Duric looked at Roquan in surprise.

"Lord Duric, do not be so shocked. If we are to defeat the Emperor, the Nobility and the Overlords must unite. We must tear down the political walls between us."

"You do realize that the Emperor's legions have been seen turning back from Colos," Duric said flatly. "And that some of them are heading for provincial lands."

Roquan sighed. "Yes, I am aware of this."

"Some of your cohorts will be inside occupied lands."

"I have already warned those that may be in Z'haas' path. That is all that I can do, unfortunately."

Duric drew himself erect. "Roquan, I will talk to the other Lords. I will get them to stand with the Overlords. We will work together on this."

"Agreed."

"In fact, I think we should meet in person and plan this together."

"Your Palace or my Manor, Duric?"

"Your Manor. It is not in as much danger as Keyas might be if Z'haas turns his armies south. He has no transports for island invasion. Yet."

"I will power my Portal in the morning," said Roquan.

"Very good. And I will take the opportunity to return something of yours."

Roquan raised an eyebrow, but in truth it did not take him long to determine what it was. "Amanda," he said softly.

"She is an excellent slave, Roquan, but she is not quite for me," said Duric with a small smile. "So perhaps I will bow to your wisdom in the future on these matters."

Roquan returned the smile. While he would not state it out loud, he was glad that he would see Amanda again. And he was sure Sirinna would be as well. This brought to mind one other matter, however, and his smile faded. "Lord Duric?"

"Yes, Roquan?"

"Do you have a man on staff by the name of Rallas?"

Duric paused a moment. "Indeed, I do. He is the librarian and master archivist." Duric realized at this point, or at least guessed, that the Overlord had discovered the "transaction" that had taken place, so he chose not to hide it. "I sent Amanda to him to do some research."

"Oh? Research?"

"Yes. Research which ultimately helped me a great deal."

"Ah. I am glad to hear this."

The Overlord paused significantly, knowing there was more.

"Naturally, I had to offer Amanda to him as a reward for his efforts in assisting Amanda," said Duric. "It is most unusual to request such a thing for a slave, you understand."

"Yes, agreed. But ... this Rallas ... did he treat Amanda well?"

"Rallas is a bit strict. And a bit ... crude." He paused, then reluctantly described some of what the man liked to do to a slave.

Roquan listened impassively and nodded. "Very well. I am glad to see that Amanda is unhurt."

"Yes, indeed. He would never harm her."

Roquan's eyes narrowed. "I said she was unhurt, not unharmed."

Duric simply nodded. "Is there anything else, Roquan?"

"Just one thing, Duric. If you ever send Tanyee or any other slave of mind to Rallas again, I will terminate any and all contracts with you and never do business with you again. Do I make myself very clear on this matter?"

Duric knew that Roquan was very protective of his slaves, but this was the first time he had experienced it firsthand. It was something of a shock to him. At the same time, he himself held Rallas' techniques in extreme distaste. "Yes, Roquan, I understand," he replied with no trace of animosity in his voice.

Roquan nodded once and let it drop. He had made his point, there was no need for grudges. "I will look forward to your arrival tomorrow evening, Lord Duric."

"As will I, Overlord Roquan. I bid you good day."

"Good day to you as well."

Duric's image faded from sight. As soon as Roquan had picked up the pearl, there was a soft knock at his door.

"Enter."

Vanlo quietly stepped inside.

Roquan waited a moment, expecting a greeting or some other word from his Healer. When none seemed forthcoming, he grew wary. "What is it, Vanlo?" he asked, his voice a touch sharp.

Vanlo hesitated, his mouth opening then closing again.

Roquan gave him a concerned look. "Are you quite all right?"

A tiny, forlorn smile came over Vanlo's face. "I suppose that depends on your definition of the word, your Lordship."

Roquan sighed as he put Lord Duric's pearl away. "Just give it to me straight, Vanlo. What is it now that has gone wrong?"

"Hmm, yes, I suppose you might consider it such. Perhaps you would indulge me with a question first."

Roquan gave Vanlo an odd look. It was quite unlike him to beat around the bush like this. "Of course."

"Do you intend on taking on more slaves anytime soon? That is, new ones taken from offworld?"

"I suppose it is something I should consider," said Roquan. "As I have become successful enough again that I could use more. But the civil war may change that. Suffice it to say it was not something I am going to pursue in the short term. Why?"

Vanlo hesitated another long moment. Roquan realized only now that the Healer had not met his eyes even once. "It is ... I feel ... ahem ... I would ask of you, your Lordship, that you refrain from mixing any more of the Draught until .... that is ..."

Roquan frowned. "The Draught of Forgetfulness?"

"Yes, indeed. That."

"Just what is this all about, Vanlo?"

The Healer sensed the demanding tone in the Overlord's voice. He suddenly felt ashamed of his cowardice He finally raised his tired eyes to Roquan's intense ones. "I have committed a grievous sin, I am afraid, but I am compelled to act upon it. I know the composition of the Draught."

A single eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. "You do?"

"Yes, your Lordship. I know of ... the extra ingredient."

Roquan folded his arms. Vanlo searched for anger in the Overlord's eyes, but came up empty. The truth was that Roquan himself was not sure how he should feel. "I trust this is not something you have shared with others?"

"Indeed not. You are the only one I have told. I have no intention of revealing this secret."

Roquan nodded and accepted this.

"It is for you and the Overlords to manage and to administer," continued Vanlo quickly before he could lose his nerve. "But ... but when I see something ... Roquan, when I started as a Healer, I took an oath to 'do no harm.' I suppose I have extended that. I feel I do harm if I see another doing it and do nothing to stop it ..."

"You believe the Draught is harming the slaves?" Roquan asked, his voice rising. "Because of an ingredient that enhances something that is already there?"

"No."

Vanlo fell silent. Roquan frowned, out of impatience more than anything else, but the Healer had no way to tell.

"It is because of something else, your Lordship," Vanlo said, and in only a few breaths he explained what had weighed on his mind for so long.

When Vanlo was done, Roquan just stared.

"I am sorry, your Lordship," Vanlo said when the silence became too much for him. "But I must ask this. Please do not be offended. Did you know about this side-effect?"

Roquan's jaw clenched for a moment. "I most certainly did not," he declared forcefully.

Vanlo, who trusted his Overlord's word as much as Roquan trusted his, visibly relaxed. "You cannot imagine how happy it makes me to hear that, your Lordship."

Roquan was silent for a long moment. In his mind's eye, he saw the collarings of many of his slaves over again. A collaring was always a vivid memory for him. He could recall that moment for every slave he had ever owned. And now these memories paraded before him. Questions were answered. More were raised.

Then he came to Amanda, where the line ended. He dwelled on her. Not just her collaring, but everything that had happened since.

A torn look came over him. It did not last long, but it was there. He hated himself for the thought that flitted through his head, however briefly: that Amanda would have been far more tractable had she had the Draught and this side-effect had come into play.

But then, she would not have been Amanda. Not the one that had helped him. Not the one that had nearly lost her life for him. Not the one that had helped obtain an alliance with Duric.

Roquan finally spoke. "Are you intending on staying on as my Healer after this revelation, Vanlo?"

Vanlo's face fell. Roquan's voice had been tight and cool, though his eyes were unreadable. "I suppose not, your Lordship."

"So you do not want to do it? You would prefer Lanno do it?"

Vanlo paused. He looked to the Overlord in confusion. "I beg your pardon, your Lordship? Do what?"

"Discover a means of neutralizing the side-effect, of course."

Vanlo was too stunned to reply.

Roquan turned from the Healer and disappeared into his bedchamber for a long moment. When he returned, he was carrying a yellowed, brittle scroll, tied with a gold ribbon. He stood before Vanlo and paused, his eyes dropping to the scroll as he turned it in his hands. Finally, he looked his Healer square in the eye and held out the scroll.

Vanlo's lips parted as he looked back at the Overlord. "Your Lordship, I ..."

"If you are to do this right, Vanlo, you will need the complete formula. I trust you will be discreet, of course."

Vanlo's hand trembled as he took the scroll. He was astonished. This was a show of trust he was sure no Overlord had ever done outside their own circle. He was honored beyond words.

He looked up again. "But what about Lanno ...?"

"If you trust him, I will trust him," said Roquan.

Vanlo nodded, and slowly smiled. "I will do my best, your Lordship. Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you, Vanlo. You never cease to amaze me. I have always valued intelligence in a slave, and you will help me better accomplish this."

"Of course, your Lordship. If I may take my leave? I wish to look this over."

Roquan could hear the eagerness in his Healer's voice. It was something he had not heard in a long while. It was very welcome. "Of course, Vanlo. Good day to you."

"And good day to you as well, your Lordship."

Amanda had fallen asleep in Tanyee's arms. When she jerked awake, Tanyee stirred, uttered a very soft moan and rolled over. Moments later, the lanky girl was breathing deeply in slumber once again.

This time, Amanda knew what it was that had disturbed her. Excited, she jumped out of bed and padded over to the balcony door. She glanced towards the entrance to Duric's chamber for a moment before reaching behind the curtain. She turned the latch and let herself out.

It was not quite as cold that night. It had become unseasonably warm the day they had returned to the palace . She felt only a mild chill as she accepted the Farview.

Jollis' image appeared before her. "Hello, dear one."

"Hello, Master Jollis," said Amanda, smiling.

Jollis loved that smile. Just seeing it made his heart soar. "I am happy to see you have returned, dear one. And I am sorry that Lord Duric has more on his hands now than he bargained for."

"It could have been worse, Master Jollis. Far worse."

"Oh? In what way?"

Amanda went on to explain what had happened. Naturally, Jollis knew most of it. But now she revealed the crucial detail that had escaped him: the reason why Duric had turned back rather than engage the Imperial army.

"Truly? Did you do that?" asked Jollis curiously. "You stopped him?"

"Yes, I did. I did what you said. I used my knowledge. I supported him. I helped him make the right decision."

"But what inspired you, dear one?"

"The Battle of Selemas Keep, of course. The admiral of the Monarchist fleet had a loved one that was murdered by the Republicans. He wanted revenge. But he held back. He knew that if he engaged the fleet, it would be a bloody mess for both sides, and it would gain them nothing."

And Jollis was enlightened.

"Ah, yes. Janna," Jollis said softly. "He was going to go to war over Janna. And you stopped him."

"Yes, because it was not the right decision. Or rather, it wasn't the right reason. If it hadn't been for Janna's death, he would have decided to withdraw. But Janna's death almost caused him to make a rash decision." She paused a moment as she searched his face for a reaction. "Master Jollis, I did the right thing, didn't I? I did what you told me to do."

Jollis was far too impressed with Amanda to be the least bit angry at her. Yes, her action had unraveled all his plans. But that was not truly her fault. She had no idea of what his plans had been. She was simply acting as Amanda, and that was all that he could ever ask of her. It was what he had wanted.

He smiled at her. "Precious one, you did exactly as you should. You are very, very clever. Do not ever doubt yourself any longer."

Amanda beamed at him.

"Lord Duric will be keeping you about then, no?"

Her smiled faded a bit. "Actually ... no ... he's sending me back to Roquan tomorrow."

"Is he? Hmm."

Amanda sighed. "Master Jollis, are you sure there is no way you can return to Master Roquan's Manor? I really miss you."

"Ah, but I so miss you as well, precious one. I will do everything in my power to see you again. I promise you this."

Amanda managed a small smile and nodded.

"I should not keep you any longer. And I have a big day tomorrow. I will talk to you again as soon as I can. Take care, Amanda."

"I will, Master Jollis. Goodbye."

Jollis smiled one last time and faded from sight.

Amanda heaved a sigh. She hated the idea that Jollis would not be at the Manor when she returned. But Sirinna would. And now they would be back together again. She had no idea for how long, but that didn't matter. She intended to make the most of the time they did have.

And perhaps she could find out why Jollis had to leave.

Amanda slipped back inside the chamber. She found Tanyee awake.

Tanyee smiled. "Talking with Sirinna?"

Amanda almost answered "no" until she remembered she had never told Tanyee about Jollis. She curled a hand into a fist behind her and pretended that she held the pearl. She smiled. "Yes. I wanted to tell her that I was coming back ho ... to the Manor tomorrow."

She had almost said "home." Before she could muse on this, Tanyee drew the covers back. "Please, snuggle with me? I'll ... I'll miss you when you go back."

Amanda trotted over to the bed and pretended to put the pearl back under the bed. She slipped under the furs and pressed her body against Tanyee.

"Oo! You're chilly!" Tanyee giggled.

"Well, then warm me up, silly," Amanda said, giggling as well.

The two of them settled down contentedly in each other's arms and drifted off to sleep.

Jollis stood in silence, something which was becoming common for him now.

He had gone too far. His emotions had finally gained the upper hand over his intellect. He had cast himself into a role in which he had no business acting. But he could not relinquish it. He could not simply cast it aside.

He had called Amanda "precious one." Twice. It was a deeply held term of endearment in his land. It was above "dear one," which he had already been calling her. But instead of stopping himself, he had let himself continue.

And now he was trapped.

Jollis sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He was in love with Amanda. This was going to complicate things. And he knew what his Master would say when he heard:

Most distasteful.

The door opened. "What is it?" came the question with a sigh.

The adviser looked pained. "My Lord, you have not come for dinner."

"I am fine, Werren," said the haggard Lord Tarras. "I am not hungry."

"Surely you wish something?"

"Nothing, Werren, thank you for your concern."

"A drink then, perhaps?"

Tarras paused, as if considering it. He shook his head. "All I wish right now is to be left alone. Please."

Werren hesitated, then slowly nodded. "As you wish it, my Lord."

The door was again closed before he got to the word "Lord."

Tarras leaned against the closed door and wiped his hand over his face. He left it cupped under his chin for a few moments before stepping away. His chamber was dark, the only light a dying fire on the hearth. The room was sophisticated even in the dimness. The chair that faced the fire was ornately carved with curves and flourishes. The seat was deep violet, covered in a soft, velvet-like material.

Suddenly he felt as if it were nearly a moon ago, when he had first heard about his son's death at the hands of the Emperor. Yet he had not let himself grieve. He had not shed a tear for him. There had been too much to be done in the wake of his death for that.

He no longer felt such resolve now.

Tarras dropped into the seat. His face betrayed the exhaustion of years rather than mere moons. He looked over to the low, oak table to his right.

There sat a simple wooden box. He had called for it upon his return home, once he had learned Janna's fate. It was simple in design, stained dark, highly polished. It was held closed by a simple metal latch. There was a very faint aura of magic about it.

Tarras stared at it as he had for the past few hours. As he had for the last two nights since he had first closed it.

Finally, he reached over and took the box into his lap.

He stared at it again. The fire snapped loudly as a pocket of sap in the wood popped, sending a single crimson ember onto the brick before the fireplace. Tarras watched the tiny burning ember as the glow slowly faded away. It became black and featureless, a tendril of smoke rising from it, ghost-like. His eyes misted.

He looked down again. A trembling finger flicked the latch open. The magical glow sparkled and faded as the preservation spell was temporarily suspended. He swallowed hard and opened the box. Inside, neatly folded, was the dress and petticoat of Janna J'garon.

Tarras picked up the petticoat. He held it in his hands for a few moments and brought it to his nose. He inhaled deeply. It still smelled like her. And it would continue to smell like her thanks to the preservation spell in the box.

And now, the words that he had so hard a time finding the right time or place to say, came him with cruel ease.

"I love you, Janna."

He buried his face in the cloth and began to weep softly.

END

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