As soon as they went through the door, they met nose to nose with the cook. She was leaning on a wall with a hand, hyperventilating after ascending the stairs.

“Did he… behave?” she asked, panting. “I… forgot… to tell… him… to… behave.”

She thinks I stayed so long because I flirted with the girls and came to the rescue. Well… my introduction down there was a little cheeky, that’s true.

He tried to find an excuse, but Missy obliterated his try in a blink of an eye.

“As a matter of fact, he’s a spy who came to warn us about a plot against the princesses. Go down and tell the rest. Prepare some plainclothes for Heyra and Feyra and help them pack.”

“Providence! On my way!”

Hurrying back on the stairs, still panting, she disappeared; he, on the other hand, was not believing either his eyes or ears.

“Errr… you tell the help such secrets?”

“Of course! Better than having them eavesdrop on us, no? Common, Quevedo, let’s move!”

They walked to the other end of the corridor, she knocked at a door, and in a matter of seconds, a man wearing a house robe over his pajamas opened. He was well in his forties but still good-looking. Seeing the two, he frowned.

“This young gentleman here has something to say,” said the girl. “I’ll leave you to it,” she added and went back to her room.

The man invited Istaìnn inside with a gesture of his hand. It was both a sleeping room and a working room; it had a simple bed, a large bookcase, and a huge desk full of papers. The Ambassador sat at the desk, on an armchair, crossing his hands and waiting, still frowning. The frown impulsed the younger man to tell his story as brief as possible.

“Ah, a coup!” said the Ambassador in the end.

Seeing the relief on the other’s face, the spy realized that the official had expected another kind of story; a confession about a night of passion, a profession of love for his daughter, and a proposal. A coup was better news.

Yeah, for now, but it will not be long before she elopes or something. She is quite a handful, that’s obvious. And more so for a single parent, he’s a widower, if I recall well. But he has an excellent reputation as an Ambassador.

“You have a lot of courage, young man,” the Ambassador complimented him. “Not many would have dared to pursue this endeavor. Now, a less intelligent man would doubt your words, but I’m no such person. If you had intended to harm them, you could do it and just walk away. Some would think this is a complex scheme to abduct them, but you’ve mentioned someone I knew well, the Professor. No one else could have figured out they’re here; we like to keep their visits a secret. And more, I can read people, your eyes, your words, your gestures, all tell me you told the truth.”

“Thank you, your excellency, for your reputation of competence is well deserved!” bowed the spy.

“Eh, nevermind,” the Ambassador rejected the compliment with a hand gesture. “What is your specialization? You’re good looking, but not so much to be a Seducer. You are not an Assassin; your eyes are those of a person who never killed.”

“True!” exclaimed the spy. “How do you…”

“I read people, I’ve told you. You’re fit, but not so much to be a Fighter, yet too fit to be an Analyst. My guess would be you’re an Infiltrator. An actor, a musician?”

“Waiter or sommelier, my lord. Infiltrator on short to medium length missions. Artists are overrated, believe me. Nothing unties more the tongues than a good meal and a good wine. I have analyst training too, but I do not like deskwork.”

“Good. Do you have money?”

“Only small change… I did not think I’d…”

“Start an adventure, of course. Here!”

The man had thrown him a big wallet.

“You have over five hundred standards there, in coins and banknotes. It should be enough. Now, what about some muscles?”

“Thank you,” he replied, putting the wallet in his inner pocket. “About the muscles, I do not know… soldiers are usually not very bright and easy to trick!”

“I’m not talking about soldiers. I have a special man for this kind of job; he’s worth ten warriors or more. He’s in the Forrest, at my… well, secret hunting lodge.”

The spy nodded. Secret houses were not unusual; even friendly countries liked to keep some around, just in case. And now it was the case.

“So, the best thing to do is to go there and hide for a while. Tell my man I’ve sent you, For a Noble Cause, that’s the password. The lodge is quite well hidden; I’ll draw you a map.” he said, taking a pen and a paper. “Wait there until I send news; I’ll activate my contacts and do some research. If in danger, run to d’Ornia, the way is long, but my man knows the Forest well, and more importantly, he knows who is to be trusted in my country.”

“Thank you so much, your Excellency!” said the spy, relieved. “You’re the only ray of hope I’ve met.”

“No, thank you. As I’ve said, not many men would have done what you did. Now, take this – he gave him the map - and let’s go.”

The Ambassador escorted him back to the girls' room. They were ready, dressed in plain and ordinary hiking clothes, the hair tucked under large straw hats, wearing sunglasses, and each had a reliable backpack. They looked still good, but there was no they to tell they were the princesses. They were some hugs, some tears, a short briefing about the plan, but in five minutes, they went out on the same backdoor he got in earlier.