“Not necessarily. The crown prince said they could probably scrounge up a duchess or something for me to marry. I thought that would offend Father, but he’s jumping at the chance like a drooling dog,” Lucien said, sounding disgusted.

Severin returned to thumbing through Ranger files. “That is because he is afraid you are going to bring ruin upon all of us by insisting on a war.”

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“I’m not going to bring ruin. A war will hardly ruin us, especially because we will win. What are you doing?”

“I’m checking to see which Rangers are on active assignments.”

“Why?”

“If we have any that are waiting for an assignment I would like to send one out to track down my servant.”

“Are you nattering about that again? I told, stop worrying already. It’s just a stable boy, easily replaced.”

“His name is Oliver and he is an orphan. He has no place to go,” Severin said.

“He obviously does since he’s been gone for over a month,” Lucien said.

“That’s why I want to send a Ranger after him.”

“Give it up, Severin. You sent out a huge search party after he initially disappeared. He’s long gone now,” Lucien said, marching across the room in ridiculously frilly shoes.

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Severin froze when he came to a Ranger record. “Lucien,” Severin said, his voice dangerously quiet.

“Hm?”

“Why is Ranger Seventy Eight on active duty?”

“Oh, that Elle girl? She volunteered for one last mission before retiring. You really messed up, you know, when you gave her that money to pay off her debts,” Lucien said. “She’s the best intelligencer we’ve got. Now we’ll have to train a new one and that is going to take ages.”

“What?”

“Come on, I know that pack of gold came from you. She said as much when she came barging in here the night you sent her back.”

Severin stood up. “She was indentured to us?”

“Don’t you remember? You were the one who made the arrangement,” Lucien said, stopping in front of a bookshelf. He slid a leather bound logbook off the shelf and paged through it. “Here we go. Her father was a merchant who did some scouting for us on the sly. When all three of his ships went down he was bankrupt. We paid off his debts and bought him a cottage in the country in return for Ranger Seventy Eight’s service—she was accompanying him on all of his trips anyway, he was raising her to the business.”

Severin took the book and skimmed the pages as he sank back in his chair. He propped his forearms on the desk in front of him as his heart twitched while he read the terms of Elle’s indenture. When she had first started out no one suspected how good she would be, so her terms were fairly loose. After it became apparent that she was a master at infiltrating enemy strongholds and ferreting out information without notice, Severin took her family for everything he could get, squeezing funds out of them to lengthen Elle’s contract.

He never met Ranger Seventy Eight, although he had filled out the paperwork for her indenture. He hadn’t even read up on her so he never noted she was female, only that she always produced results.

Severin wondered at Elle’s acting ability. She knew who was responsible for her contract—he would have signed it before her. How was she able to smile and chatter and pretend around him, the man responsible for her being little more than a slave?

Severin threw the logbook aside and pulled Elle’s file out, reading the description of her current mission. “WHAT?” he roared, standing up so quickly he sent his chair flying.

“What’s wrong now?” Lucien asked.

“She’s infiltrating the Verglas assassin’s guild!”

“Yes. No one was very keen on taking that assignment. I was relieved when she volunteered to stay on and complete it.”

“She could be killed,” Severin said, slamming his fist on the desk surface.

“So?” Lucien blinked.

Severin could have happily strangled his brother at that moment. This willingness seemed to show in his darkening expression because Lucien hastily back tracked.

“I mean, why do you care? You’ve sent her on dozens of deadly missions before and never thought twice about it,” he clarified.

“You are an idiot,” Severin said, leaving the room.

“What? Hey, you forgot my proposed budget for the army next year. Severin?” Lucien called.

Severin ignored his brother and stalked down the hallway. He needed to get to his rooms. He needed to think.

He reached his quarters with great relief, sinking into the sofa of his personal sitting room. He glanced at the wall, where the ornate magic mirror was perched. Very little of Severin’s study had been transported to the palace—Severin wasn’t positive he wanted to live in the palace, but the chateau was haunted by memories of Elle—but the mirror had made the precarious journey.

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