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Delaunay.”
    I looked up to meet his clever gaze. “As you will, my lord Pharaoh.”
    He walked over to the low table and smelled the pitcher. “What, no beer? I trust you were well fed, at least.”
    “No, my lord,” I said, watching him. “We have not eaten.”
    Ptolemy Dikaios made a tsking sound. “My servants misunderstood. I beg your pardon. Well, it will have to be remedied later. Messire Verreuil, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
    “My lord.” Joscelin gave his Cassiline bow.
    “And you.” Pharaoh turned to Imriel and made a courtly half-bow. “I trust I have the pleasure of meeting Prince Imriel de la Courcel?”
    I am given to understand that her son stands third in line for the D’Angeline throne .
    Imriel glanced uncertainly at me. I nodded. “My lord Pharaoh,” he murmured in schoolboy Hellene, returning Pharaoh’s bow.
    “A beautiful boy,” Ptolemy Dikaios said to me.
    “Yes, my lord,” I said politely. “My lord, if you will forgive me for being importunate, it is incumbent upon us to report to the household of Comte Raife Laniol, Ambassador de Penfars. Is it your intention to see us delivered there?”
    “In gilded chains, perhaps?” Pharaoh chuckled at the notion. “Paraded through the streets of Iskandria, with the rescued D’Angeline Prince carried in a jeweled litter? Yes, that would look well for me, wouldn’t it? And I daresay your ambassador would be glad of it. He feels you made a fool of him in more ways than one.”
    I felt myself blanch, but kept my voice steady. “It is Pharaoh’s privilege. Is it his will?”
    Ptolemy Dikaios rubbed his chin. “I’ve not decided. Somehow I suspect your Queen would not be as pleased, after the attempt on the boy’s life in Nineveh. Doubtless she would prefer not to have his identity shouted throughout the city, especially given the large Akkadian presence and the fact that no ships are due to sail to Terre d’Ange until spring.” He smiled at my expression. “Ah, now, I’ve my own informants in Khebbel-im-Akkad, my dear. You needn’t look surprised.”
    “Ships can be obtained,” I said. “My lord Pharaoh, if you will not deliver us to the embassy, I must ask you to let us go.”
    “To de Penfars?” He raised his brows. “He will clap you in chains, you know. He’s of a mind that the Queen should charge you with treason for the abduction of a member of the Royal House.”
    “It was my decision-” Joscelin began, even as Imriel said hotly, “No one abducted-”
    “Enough.” Pharaoh raised one hand, jeweled rings gleaming. “It is not my affair to sit in judgement on your guilt.”
    “With all due respect, my lord,” I said, “nor is it your place to detain us. We are D’Angeline citizens, and whatever else we have done, we have broken no Menekhetan law.”
    “Always thinking,” he said with amusement, “always arguing, Phèdre nó Delaunay. Do you bargain with your own sovereign thusly?”
    “No, my lord.” I held his gaze. “But Ysandre de la Courcel does not play such games as you.”
    He laughed. “She might, if she ruled Menekhet and not Terre d’Ange. Those of us whose power rests precariously upon our wits learn to play them early. But you wrong me this time, Lady Phèdre. It is no game I play, but an act of kindness on behalf of an old, dear friend. And where you go when you leave my Palace is entirely up to you, although I might add that there is a very fine trade-ship sailing on the morrow for La Serenissima, and I happen to know there are berths open.”
    “My lord?”
    Ptolemy Dikaios took a sealed letter from the folds of his robe. “The last time you were here, you gave to me letters I would deny receiving from your hand. This time, I have one such for you,” he said, and tossed it onto the table.
    I didn’t need to see the seal. I knew the handwriting.
    It was Melisande Shahrizai’s.

Eighty-Four
    YOU WROTE to Melisande ?” Joscelin’s tone was outraged. “You didn’t tell me that .’”
    “You didn’t need to know,” I murmured, reading the contents of the letter. Although the parchment was unscented, I swore I could smell her fragrance. The thought of it, combined with hunger and weariness, made me dizzy. And despite it all, her words set my mind to working.
    Joscelin took a deep breath and clenched his jaw, mindful of Pharaoh’s presence. “What does she want?” he asked, tight-lipped.
    I passed him the letter. “To see Imriel.”
    Imri, looking pale, said