After the 58th left, Princess Caroline quickly ordered for the dishes to be cleared away and the table to be cleaned. All the maids, except for Ninon, would be sent back to the castle, and another group would replace them.

She had warned them all beforehand that they would face a strict punishment if they told anyone about what they had seen or heard, but she had to be careful. Maids gossiped at all times of the day, so the only way to combat that was to make sure they only knew scraps and pieces of what she was doing.

Shortly before noon, another cart of food and juices arrived with the next group of maids. She greeted them cheerfully and sat back in her chair, enjoying the pleasant shade of the yew trees as she waited for her next guest.

Her grandmother, Queen Grania, had told her that the trees had been planted by her father and Uncle Ghislain many years ago. It was hard to imagine her stern-faced father and her haggard uncle sweating and digging into the dirt.

It was even harder to imagine that her father had approved the order for Uncle Ghislain’s assassination. No, she reflected, all her fourteen years had been spent in the palace, and she did not know her father at all.

Sir Ignace, the 36th Divine Paladin, arrived half an hour after noon. He was an odd sight – his nettlecloth tunic was tight and form-fitting, as was the trend in high nobility fashion, but the red dye used was so bright that with his paunch and ruddy cheeks, he looked rather like a tomato. He was also, by most standards, very late.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” he said, huffing as he climbed the steps to the pavilion. “I got lost on the way here.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sir Ignace. Being a paladin, you must be so impossibly busy, I’m sure,” she said with a sweet smile to hide the sarcasm in her words. She had wanted to meet with him sooner, but it had taken him a few days to reply to her invitation. As a result, the earliest date she could arrange the meeting for was on the same day that she met with Sir Roel.

“Please, take a seat.” She gestured at the empty chair. “You must be tired.”

“Ah, you have no idea, Princess,” he said and sat down. He glanced at the cart. “What do we have here? Are those meatballs? A bit green, aren’t they? Surely, they’re not moldy…?”

“They’re veal,” she explained. “The cooks cooked them with parsley juice. It’s a very popular technique in the capital right now.”

“I’ll never understand nobles,” he said with a shake of his head as he took a plate of the meatballs anyway.

“How are they?” she asked after he took a bite.

“Good. Tastes like meatballs to me.” He wiped at his mouth with his hands before noticing her gaze. He grabbed the nearest surnape and stiffly dabbed at his mouth.

She had already done intensive research on the paladin, but still, seeing such a man after her meeting with Sir Roel brought a wry smile to her face.

“I’m glad to see that I amuse the young lady,” Sir Ignace said, mistaking the reason for her smile. “Many women have told me that seeing the way I devour a meal makes them feel that the time they spent cooking it was worthwhile. You have a very radiant smile, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” she said, ignoring the urge to roll her eyes. “I have heard many stories about you, Sir Ignace. Tales of your bravery and prowess. They say that you have slain more beasts than any other. Is it true that you singlehandedly culled the Subharian rhinos?”

He laughed. “Please, Your Highness, this was many years ago when I was much younger and much thinner. There’s no point in bragging about the past.”

“It’s still very impress–”

“But yes, it was my doing,” he continued. “You never hear about Subharian rhinos these days, do you? I must’ve given them such a scare that they fled the kingdom. They’re the Graecians’ problem now. Not that there’s much difference between a Graecian and a rhinoceros.”

He paused and looked at her as if waiting for her to laugh. There was a hammy, rehearsed quality to his words. She could tell because that was how most of the nobles spoke to her. She had no doubt that the paladin had repeated this same speech to countless others before her.

She laughed shrilly.

With a pleased smile, he began what was no doubt another part of his script: “Perceptive creatures, they are. To track them down, I spent most of my time in fords and creeks. I had to keep erasing my scent, see. Though I’m not sure how they didn’t smell the stench of moss and fish. I must’ve smelled worse than Duchess Nicole at the Rite of the Hearth.”

He had gone for a topical joke and not a very original one at that. Still, she laughed again. Such was her routine as he gave his dramatic retelling.

“Very impressive, Sir Ignace,” she said the moment he finished. “I suspect this is why you were one of the first that Father called to the palace. We need a man like you for what’s to come.”

She didn’t use the word ‘war.’ It was unladylike to speak of such things so directly. She also knew that Sir Ignace’s early arrival at the palace was just a coincidence – when the messages were sent out to the paladins, he had been the closest to the palace. And even then, he had taken his time to arrive. But playing ignorant was her second most potent weapon.

He didn’t correct her. “Of course, I will serve the kingdom as truly as I have for the past twenty years,” Sir Ignace said solemnly.

“Your dedication is splendid. It’s so strange that a man like you is…” She broke off and pretended to fidget with her braided hair.

“What is it?” Sir Ignace said.

“Well, it’s...no, I don’t want to be rude to other paladins. I can’t play favorites, Father says.”

“No, go ahead,” he said eagerly.

“I just think that it’s strange that we have a paladin of your esteem in the palace right now, but Father focused his attention on someone else. Seems like he’s the one playing favorites.”

“Ah, you’re referring to Sir Roel.” The paladin shook his head, a dark expression on his face. “I still remember hearing about him when he was first ordained. Hardly a man. Toddler at best. No hair on his face or his chest, balls hadn’t even – ah, never mind, Princess. But yes, it’s certainly a strange decision.”

“He’s very popular right now, my maids tell me.”

“A string of fortunes. Who could’ve guessed that the common folk would be so interested in a siege?” He snorted. “A few years ago, sieges were as common as rain in the northern isles. Furthermore, he failed in the line of duty. He couldn’t protect a prince from a measly gang of heretics. I don’t see why he’s being rewarded for it.”

She nodded. “Someone like you would’ve been a better fit.”

She thought the words would please him, but instead, his smug expression faded. “Your words are too kind, Your Highness,” he said after a pause.

Aha! she thought. It seemed that the stories about the 36th held some truth: he was long past his peak. The brave and almost ruthless young man who had culled the Subharian rhinos was gone; this was a cowardly man who squandered his wealth and held lavish parties at his estate almost every night.

There were many ill rumors about him. One was that he dealt in slaves. More than a century ago, King Louka II had outlawed slavery on the grounds that a man’s honor and dignity were a valuable thing, but it was later repealed by her grandfather when his wars produced many foreign prisoners. Slaves were still uncommon, though, and many believed that a slave merchant was the worst kind of merchant.

Another rumor was that when Sir Ignace was sent out on missions, he brought a company of men with him. Their identities were unknown, which only fueled the suspicion that he was using slaves to accomplish his more dangerous missions for him.

Of course, such dirty rumors, ones that besmirched the dignity of Divine Paladins and the kingdom by extension, were ones that had to be bought. In the past few weeks, she had sold her finest jewelry to acquire information about the paladins she would be meeting.

The money wasn’t spent just on the information but also on the proxies she had Ninon hire. There was a chain of people that had to be paid: one person would be given money to hire another person and so on until the last person in this chain was the one to approach the informant.

It was expensive, yes, but if the informants learned of her identity, they would drive up the price, and, more importantly, the news that she was operating in secret would eventually reach other ears. When acquiring information, her grandmother had once told her in broken Calcais, it was important that one did not end up giving away information. Especially for free.

She spent another hour with Sir Ignace. She patiently listened to his stories, exclaimed when prompted to, and felt generally miserable. Towards the end, she gave him the same invitation to her debutante ball that she would be extending to the other paladins.

“My, you’re already coming of age,” Sir Ignace said, and the way his eyes trailed over her body made her want to shudder with disgust.

“Yes, the ball will be a grand occasion, perhaps the happiest in my life,” she said with a girlish giggle. “Second only to my wedding, of course. Though, I do worry sometimes.”

“What could a pretty little thing like you worry about?”

“Well, it’s my father,” she said slowly and plaintively. “I’m not sure how he’ll choose my husband. No one ever really knows what Father thinks. What if he...” She broke off. “Sorry, I’m bothering you with my problems, aren’t I?”

“No, no, don’t apologize. It isn’t good for a young woman to hold in all her troubles. Continue.”

“Well, it’s just...if the man I marry is a violent tyrant, could I ask you to rescue me, Sir Ignace?” For good measure, she peeked up at his face before timorously lowering her eyes. She always felt so awkward doing such things, but Ninon had assured her that her awkwardness made it all the more convincing.

“Of course,” Sir Ignace said immediately. “In a heartbeat.”

“Thank you, Sir Ignace!” she said with a wide smile. The joy in her voice was genuine. It amused her that someone who was used to telling rehearsed stories couldn’t see through hers. She didn’t even have to tell her little story about her father’s indifference to the little trinkets she had made for him when she was a child.

Garnering pity was her most potent weapon and one that suited her the most. She’d put up with their sympathetic gazes, their consolatory remarks. Someone who pitied her would underestimate her.

She hummed the tune of Sir Gabin and the 27 Knives – that was the cue for Ninon to call an end to the meeting. The maid stepped forward and pretended to whisper in her ear.

“It seems I’m out of time, Sir Ignace,” she said sadly. “I do apologize for cutting it short, but I have a very busy schedule today.”

“Of course, of course!” Sir Ignace stood from his chair and gave her a bow. “My estate is in the capital if you ever feel the need to reach out to me.” He gave her a wide smile. “And expect a very nice gift at your ball.”

“You’re too generous! I couldn’t possibly accept –”

“I won’t hear of it.” With a cheerful whistle, he walked down the steps and soon disappeared into the gardens.

She wanted to let out an exhausted sigh the moment she couldn’t see him, but the other maids were nearby, and she needed to keep up appearances. Besides, her day still wasn’t over.

Today was a lax day – she had scripture lessons in the evening with one of the bishops, and before bed, she lectured Charlie again for snooping and interfering earlier. (He had pretended to fall asleep the moment she barged into his room, but one of his servants gave her a wan smile and that was all she needed.)

Then, a few minutes before midnight, there was a knock on her door, and a man in a dark fur cloak quickly slipped into her room. He closed the door quietly behind him.

“You’re early,” Ninon said to him in a low whisper. The maid was perched on her windowsill and had been waiting with her for the past few hours. She had offered the woman a chair several times, but she had declined it. Caroline had also insisted that she could meet the duke alone, but Ninon wouldn’t hear it.

“I saw an opportunity to slip out, so I seized it,” the man said with a wolfish grin. With his long dark hair and flinty eyes, he was undeniably handsome. A princess meeting such a man, a married one at that, in her room after dark would make for quite a scandal; that was exactly why she had insisted on meeting him at this time.

That’s what it took to catch an elusive person like Duke Alan.