Corinne reported bright and early to Cécile’s office, over in the administrative wing of the fortress. No point wearing her flight suit, since she wouldn’t be flying for a while, so she sighed and donned her dress uniform, thankful she wouldn’t have to wear it long.

Even if she couldn’t be in the air, Corinne was just as valuable to the Guard in the workshop, and that was where she’d be spending the next few weeks. Which was fine. Corinne loved engineering almost as much as she loved flying. But appearances mattered, especially in a part of the fortress where half the people spied for her mother. So she’d dress the part of the good little fancy soldier to check in with the Captain, then come back and change into clothes more appropriate for real work.

The Dragon Fortress felt strangely empty now that Shadow Court was over. Corinne hadn’t realized how much she’d gotten used to the color and variety of the courtiers, the soldiers from the other clans, the countless staff that traveled with and supported the court. Now it was back to familiar faces in familiar halls, and Corinne felt a sudden awareness of how disappointing that was.

All those thoughts scattered, however, as she stepped into Cécile’s office, and Cécile’s first words were, “Corinne, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t do anything. I tried.”

A list of disasters ran through Corinne’s mind—explosions, attacks, something terrible befalling her sister, her father—except there hadn’t been any disasters. The fortress was quiet. “What are you talking about?”

Cécile’s first two words said everything. “Your mother.” She caught herself, steeling her expression into something more appropriate to a captain delivering official news. “Prime Minister Sabine has requested your reassignment. Since you were off active duty, the Guard could make no objection.”

“Reassignment?” For a moment, Corinne couldn’t get the word to make sense.

“Technically, a promotion. You’re to be the Phoenix Guard’s new liaison to Parliament.” She paused, made an apologetic grimace. “Starting this morning.”

“She can’t do this,” Corinne said. Which wasn’t true, and they both knew it.

The liaison position was bullshit. No one in the guard had any respect for it. Asher Jean-Luc, the current—or now former—liaison had been the son of two ministers who had essentially bought his place on the Guard. After three missions where he’d endangered his squad through aggressively bad decisions, he’d been sent to sit in Parliament and smile and nod and that had made everyone happy.

It wasn’t even a real job. Everyone knew Jean-Luc barely bothered to show up to sessions.

Except if Sabine had put Corinne in this position, she was going to expect Corinne to show up. She’d be watching.

“I can’t believe her. This is because I walked out of dinner. This is her making a point.”

Cécile said nothing, her lips tight. No matter that she wasn’t any happier about this than Corinne, Cécile was too good an officer to start insulting the Prime Minister.

Right at this moment, Corinne could have cheerfully shot them all into darkspace.

“I’m sorry,” Cécile said.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.”

“Corinne…”

But whatever she was going to say, Corinne didn’t want to hear it. She left the office and slammed the door behind her, trying not to imagine her future crumbling to ruin in front of her.