“First Bell!” The Wraith stationed guard on Lance’s floor bellowed. He stood with his hands cupped around his mouth—the shadows pying with his pallid skin—and repeated his call.

  Lance unched out of bed. He wrenched open the drawer under his bunk as Fat John stretched and yawned, and Laramy hauled himself out of his own bed.

  It’s finally time! He’s here!

  He rummaged through the drawer, pulled free the dainty, highly polished, bck slippers, the snowy reliefs and, with extra care not to wrinkle it, a bck tabard embzoned with the seal of Shadovane in thread of violet —a raven clutching thorns with its skeletal feet. He liberated a towel from near the back of the drawer, and then joined the short line cuing up in front of the door.

  He rushed through his morning shower, dressed as quickly as he could and tried to brush his hair into a uniform shape. It y ft for ten whole minutes before the first chicken feathers snapped up.

  He found Ben before anyone else when he arrived in the canteen. Ben had chosen a bench near the back of the hall, as usual. Rashanna sat with him. Her girlfriend, if she had rekindled her romance with her, was not present.

  He set his tray down and joined them. “I’m so nervous I could die.”

  “You and me both.” Ben said.

  Rashanna rolled her eyes. “When are you supposed to go in, anyway?”

  “Six, I think.”

  “It’s five thirty.”

  “And?”

  “And you’re already te. Everyone has to go through a security check before they get on with their duties today. Didn’t you know?”

  “Fuck.” Lance smacked his forehead. “That means I’m even ter.”

  “Need to go see Lady Jain first, right? I would take you up there, but I’d rather eat my breakfast. Hope you understand.” She said.

  Lance vaulted to his feet. Ben eased back from the bench, and they left together.

  They deposited their food in the trash. Lance took his toast with him. He’d at least have something on his stomach before this started.

  When they arrived at the entrance to the Servants’ Tunnels, they parted ways.

  “I’ll see ya in a bit.” Ben said.

  “See you.” He hurried off in the direction of the Little Hall, where he was to be briefed by Lady Jain.

  He stood in line outside the Little Hall, where the queen met with minor nobility when they sought an audience with her. Through the open, oak doors he could see the throne had been removed. The chamber was tiled with matte-gray ceramic that had taken on the character of centuries of erosion, and skylights in the ceiling shed narrow threads of light here and there to touch the leaves of plum trees forever kept in bloom by the gardeners.

  He could just see the the edge of white hair near the heart of the chamber, where Lady Jain was positioned. He was getting closer.

  The cue moved at a sluggish pace as Thorns handled security checks, an unwelcome departure from the usual norms. He did not love the Wraiths, but even less did he want the attention of Thorns, those perpetually fixated on amassing information and doling out judgment, on him. Sami had still not materialized, and he was beginning to suspect they had something to do with it. That she had broken the w in some way, earned their attention. He did not like to think too long on that. Not least because she did had never seemed the type.

  He had not had the chance to ask Lothor, yet, either. Having not seen him in the night in some time.

  As it was, he had little time left to report to Lady Therien for how long the checks and briefing took. Lady Jain had not minced words, had handed him a badge denoting his station in the grand scheme, and dismissed him.

  The pace was in chaos ahead of the reception. The kitchens had been working double time these st days, and the cleaners and underers were barely able to sleep for all of the waxing, and dusting, and scrubbing, and washing, and pressing that needed to be done. The nobility was mostly dressed in their finest garb and yet even they—haughty and arrogant on the best of their days—seemed nervous.

  He arrived at the Office of the Couriers with no time to spare before his assigned time, and Lady Therien greeted him with a tart expression.

  “I’ll expect punctuality if you choose this path.” She said. She tapped a pen against her lips as she examined a ledger, flipped a page and panned over it, her dark eyes darting back and forth rapidly as she hunted for his name. “You’ll be at the queen’s side for most of the morning with Ben. Lady Jain seems to believe having someone less seasoned, and I suppose less arrogant, will be good for this task. The queen does like her servants green. Ever one to pick them apart, as she is.

  “Do not embarrass me today.”

  Lance’s heart fluttered. By the queen’s side…for most of the morning… He couldn’t believe it. It was a rare treat to serve the queen herself, one he had not dreamed he would be called to.

  A Wraith approached Lance from the back of the room, where he had previously stood with several others dressed in the same loincloths and war paint as himself. It seemed even they had taken a little extra time to ready themselves for the ceremony. Spirals and streaks in red paint and what looked like coal ash dressed their faces, making them look even more intimidating than usual.

  He patted Lance down from neck to slippers, a second pass he had not anticipated after being cleared by the Thorns, ran his fingers through Lance’s hair and then patted it back into shape, and rummaged through all of Lance’s pockets. He even flipped Lance’s tabard over, both front and back panels, searching for any weapons or enchanted trinkets he might have stashed there.

  He kept himself from wincing with some effort. If there was one thing in the world he would have preferred to avoid, such intimate contact with the Wraiths was something he did not think he would ever get used to.

  None of the servants would ever think of harming the queen or the nobles, of course, but the emperor’s arrival meant special attention needed to be paid. He imagined all of this was reserved for the event that an assassin made an attempt on the emperor’s life. It would be foolish to even try.

  “Report to the kitchens. Present Mistress Dina with this. Show her the badge you obtained from Lady Jain. Ben?” she called.

  Ben hustled over. “Is it time?”

  “It is.” She said. “Take the boy with you. And please mind your manners. Lady Jain has you serving the queen her grapes. As if she can’t…anyway. Hop to it. If there’s one person you don’t want to keep waiting, its her.”

  His insides writhed, but there was a lightness in his step and an easy smile on his lips when he thanked her and walked away.