“You summoned her again?" Thorne's tone was sharp as steel. “At a royal festival?"
Cassian adjusted his collar in the mirror. “She's a court physician now."
“You appointed her without council approval."
Cassian turned. “I don't need approval to seek healing."
“You don't need an apothecary in a veil."
Cassian's voice dropped. “She saved my life. Twice."
“That doesn't make her trustworthy."
“No," Cassian said, picking up the cracked pendant. “But I trust her anyway."
---
The grand atrium of Ivory Hold shimmered with silks and lanterns, dignitaries in jeweled masks whispering beneath the vaulted ceiling. Cassian stood atop the balcony, eyes scanning the crowd.
Then he saw her.
Draped in a charcoal-grey cloak, veil pulled low, she moved silently past nobles and knights like a shadow
