The Tyrant's Law (Dagger and the Coin)

passing on to you now two letters which have come into my possession. First is the copy of a message covertly sent by Ernst Mecilli to Lord Marshal Ternigan. The second is his reply. I trust you will take the actions needed to protect yourself and Prince Aster.
A friend
    She waited for a long moment to let the ink dry. It wasn’t until she went to fold the letters together that she realized she’d used the same paper for her own letter and the alleged message from Mecilli, but after consideration, she let the matter pass. She’d said that the message was a copy, so one might expect it to have been copied on the same paper.
    She sewed all three pages together with a blank sheet at the back on which she wrote, Exclusively for the Eyes of Lord Regent Geder Palliako with her left hand. By the time she was done, Vincen was dressed and his hair combed. Clara gave him the packet and three silver coins from her purse.
    “Well, then,” she said. “Shall we bring down a tyrant?”
    “Anything, my lady,” Vincen said, and his voice made the words only half a jest. “So long as it’s with you.”
    W ill you be going on the King’s Hunt again this winter?” Clara asked as she and her son walked through the house toward the winter garden. All around them, the servants were bustling through the halls and corridors. It made her realize again how small Lord Skestinin’s manor really was. Sufficient for a man who spent most of his summers with the fleet, but if he were ever to retire from the position, he’d need to expand. Or else find other rooms for his daughter and son-in-law.
    “No, not this year,” Jorey said. “We talked about it, Sabiha and I. I think it would probably help my standing at court more to winter with her and her father.”
    “Ah,” Clara said nodding. “So how far along is she, and when were you going to tell me?”
    Jorey had the good sense to blush.
    “Almost two months, and I was just working up to it,” he said. “If you’d given me until we actually reached the garden, we were going to tell you together.”
    “That’s sensible,” Clara said. “I’ll pretend not to know a thing.”
    “Mother, I love you, but you are the worst woman in the world at keeping a secret.”
    “I suppose I am,” Clara said as they reached the doorway. “I’ll do my best.”
    The winter garden made her miss her own solarium. The glass roof and walls had been designed to let in light and hold what little warmth the sun could offer. In the depths of winter, it was as unlivable as any room, but it gave a week or two in the winter and another in the early spring when she could have the illusion of sitting comfortably in the outdoors. It struck her for the first time how decadent it was to have an entire room made for such a small span of time. And still, she missed it.
    Sabiha sat under a bench beneath a willow. The wall crowded the tree, but the effect was still lovely. For all her tarnished reputation, Sabiha Skestinin really had been a fortunate match for Jorey. When she stood, there was no mistaking her condition. Second children always did show earlier. Clara looked at the girl’s belly, then at her eyes, and then they were both grinning and weeping. Clara folded the girl into her arms and they stood there for a long moment while Jorey shifted his weight from foot to foot.
    “Well done, my dear,” Clara said. “Oh, well done.”
    “Thank you,” Sabiha said.
    Clara drew her back down to the bench, but kept her hand. Jorey used a wide block of granite as a stool. He looked proud and content. The darkness wasn’t gone from his eyes, but it was lessened. Clara couldn’t help recalling Dawson strutting through the house when she’d first been sure that she was pregnant with Barriath. The memory held no sting.
    “So Jorey tells me you’re going north for the winter,” Clara said. “I assume this is why.”
    “Father will insist anyway,” Sabiha said. “This way he won’t have to come down and pry us away from the hunt.”
    “Would he really do that? How wonderful of him.”
    “So I’m afraid we’re going to come back next spring with considerably less court gossip,” Jorey said.
    “I’m sure there will be more than enough of that. It never does seem to be in short supply.”
    “I know,” Jorey said. “But I know you enjoy it. But we were wondering if you’d want to come with us? Estinport is, as I understand, a single block of ice and salt from now until sometime after the