Ramiel pinched the top of his nose with a sigh. “She’s going to be tried as a traitor?”
“No.” Tor sat heavily on the end of the bed. “For now, Daena’s safely ensconced as the only prisoner in the Constable’s Tower. She’s been given plenty of comforts; blankets, lamps, even books to read, and Jeremiel and Garet are taking personal responsibility for her security and well-being.”
Ramiel leaned backward, his frown fading slightly.
But then Tor continued, “There’s more.”
Ramiel narrowed his eyes. “More?”
“We believe that Andred is going to come back here, to Kaerlud,” Tor explained. “He hates Lucilla and believes he should be king. He has the military experience and political connections to make him a genuine threat. Daena is going to infiltrate his conspiracy and report back to us on their plans.”
Ramiel thrust himself up and stalked aggressively toward Tor. “You can’t be serious.”
Tor stared at the Supreme Justice, eyes narrowed, not flinching, but not replying either as long seconds passed in weighted silence.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Ramiel demanded.
Tor shrugged but didn’t reply.
Damn. That was what it looked like. Keely finally understood that this was how Tor dealt with high levels of stress—by going silent. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. But it wasn’t because he didn’t care. She knew just how concerned he was about Daena and how many hours he’d spent worrying about how to keep her safe.
But Ramiel didn’t know Tor like she did, and he was a powerful man, used to getting answers when he demanded them. He would enjoy the silent stand-off about as much as she had.
She heaved herself out of her chair and pushed herself between the two men. “Daena wants to do this. She was given the choice, and she decided for herself. I understand that you want her safe—we all do—but we also want the queen and the kingdom safe, and this is the best way. Daena wants this chance to make things right, and you have to give it to her.”
A heavy moment passed as Ramiel scowled at Tor and Tor glared back, and then Ramiel took a step back, growling out a frustrated, “Truth.”
“She won’t be going in alone,” Tor added, glancing at Keely. “I’ve been thinking of someone to go in with her, and I have an idea of someone who’ll be perfect. If he agrees.”
“Who?” Ramiel demanded.
Tor shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance to discuss this with Keely yet.”
Ramiel’s scowl darkened. “Discuss it now.”
“No, I—”
Damn. With Tor’s face looking so stoically grim and shut down, she had a suspicion she wasn’t going to like his suggestion. But she also knew Tor would have a good reason for his recommendation. And she trusted him.
She laid her hand on his arm. “It’s okay; tell me now.”
Tor glared at Ramiel for a moment, and then stood and wrapped an arm around her waist as he said quietly, “I think we should send Reece.”
She blinked. Bloody Reece. The man who had deeply insulted Alanna, who had sunk himself into a drunken tantrum that lasted weeks, and who had now dropped out of the Hawks to feel sorry for himself.
A man who had been severely beaten by Dornar and his thugs and never given up his squad. Who had apologized to Alanna.
She dipped her chin slowly. “Yes. I see why you chose him. He’s believable—he’s already out of the Hawks—and he’ll never give her up, or Lucilla. But do you honestly think you can convince him to stop wallowing and come back into the squad?”
“I don’t know,” Tor admitted. “But Mathos has seen him a few times recently and seems to think he might be starting to turn the corner.”
Ramiel grunted. “I met with him at Eschol… I can see why you chose him. And I agree, underneath all that angry misery, he has honor.”
“Good.” Tor nodded tiredly, looking relieved. “If Lucilla approves, then I’ll go and see him.”
“When are you meeting the queen?” Ramiel asked.
Tor flicked a glance toward the clock on the mantelpiece. “Soon.”
