one of the ladies in waiting goes to open the door, and relief flutters in my belly. not the abbess, but a nobleman. he is tall and broad of shoulder with gray eyes that glow with intelligence and . . . glee? the glee has so transformed his face that it takes me a moment to recognize him as the man ismae left with all those months ago.

"duval?" ismae takes a step toward him. "is everything all right?"

he gives a vague nod of greeting-or perhaps it is an apology for interrupting. "beast and sybella have returned. they have just arrived in the courtyard."

only the decorum of the duchess's chamber keeps ismae from emitting a joyous whoop. the duchess clasps her hands together and closes her eyes, as if in brief prayer. "praise god and his nine saints," she whispers.

"if you will excuse us, your grace?" duval asks.

she quickly waves us away. "of course. and hurry back, for i want a full report!"

"come!" ismae reaches out to grab my arm as she follows duval out of the chamber.

as we rush through the hallway, i cannot imagine three less dignified-