The inner court was not accessible to most. Located at the very heart of the Capital, its honeycomb layout of fine rooms and elegant hallways was reserved for visiting dignitaries and rarely saw the presence of ordinary soldiers.

Ira Hale would wonder at the ironies of fate, had she the mind to think about such things. She examined the fine room that had been appointed to her as a potential battleground. The dainty teacup that sat on a low table in front of her was just the right size to jam into someone's eye.

The door opened. The Zero standing guard moved at last, bowing out of the room with no expression or a second look at its occupant.

Ira rose to her feet. She meant to offer a proper salute, but did not have the chance to do more than bow her head in greeting.

"Enough," Lady MacLean said.

The Lord took the remaining chair without further ceremony. Ira sat back down. Beneath the added frills, the room's configuration was simple: a table, two chairs. Its purpose was the same as that of the prison cells buried under their feet. Ira supposed that her assumed rank warranted some pretense toward civility.

"The Court agrees to your terms," Lady MacLean stated. "We will answer your questions, as long as they do not touch upon matters that would threaten Samodevia's security. In return, you will provide an account of your time in Chervnik signed in blood."

Ira nodded in agreement. Her request was unorthodox and highly presumptuous, especially in light of her status as a traitor of unknown crimes. The fact that the Queen's Court accommodated her so readily promised nothing good to come.

Ira had expected far worse. The play at camaraderie was an unexpected boon already, however long it lasted.

"Would your lordship like to begin?" Ira asked.

Lady MacLean did not answer for some time. The woman's eyes were sharp and clear, her expression betraying nothing of her thoughts. She appeared far younger than she was, Ira realized. It was a startling observation, given that it had escaped Ira's notice until this very moment.

"What was your purpose in Elsendorf?" Lady MacLean spoke at last.

Ira answered readily. She detailed the case that had brought her team to the quiet village, and herself to Valeri Beaufort's door.

"Reports were submitted regularly," Ira noted. If this question was meant as a test, it wasted both of their time.

"The last report Fair submitted spoke of a dead girl, and a man who was relieved of his heart prematurely," Lady MacLean told her.

"The clean-up team did not provide an account?" Ira asked, surprised.

"The aftermath was handled by Zero," Lady MacLean said.

Ira was not familiar with Zero's code of action or standard procedures. As far as she understood, they had none. "Lady MacLean, please clarify. If there is no official report on record, how was the imprisonment of one of my men justified?"

"You dare ask?" Lady MacLean said.

"I do. Does your lordship dare answer?" Ira replied.

Lady MacLean looked at her, then huffed out a laugh. "A village was left gutted, Miss Hale. Civilians died, and the creatures responsible disappeared without a trace. Someone had to be held accountable."

"That someone should have been me," Ira said.

"You were not there," Lady MacLean reminded.

Ira held the woman's eyes with difficulty. This was a point of great shame, necessary as her decision to leave had been at the time. "The serpents bore the Queen's Mark," she said.

Lady MacLean stilled. The sardonic smile in her eyes dimmed steadily as Ira recounted her time in the Layfe siblings' presence.

"You are certain the letter Layfe received bore the Queen's seal?" the woman asked.

Ira nodded. Zared Layfe had ensured her knowledge of the matter, displaying the griffin adorning the letter openly in an attempt to draw Ira to his side. It was this honesty that had Ira doubting her suspicions of the siblings – or rather, her own understanding of the case. In the end, her hesitation had cost Molly Wilson her life.

"Yes," Ira agreed.

"Ask your question," Lady MacLean said.

Ira stared at the woman, taken aback.

"We are almost out of time," Lady MacLean told her.

There was a limit to the lord's visits, then. Ira made a note of this in her mind, as well as the fact that she was to meet each lord in turn rather than all together.

"Who was Yevelina Hale to you?" Ira asked.

Lady MacLean's mouth parted, but she did not speak immediately. She shook her head with a sigh.

"This, I cannot discuss," she said.

The refusal was an admission in itself, given the terms Lady MacLean had set for their conversation. "That is unfortunate. I remember nearly nothing of my mother," Ira said. "Lord Fane was certain that I would be able to learn about her here."

"Fane was a fool," Lady MacLean said, but her gaze was considering.

Ira hummed in agreement.

"You were ten years of age when Yevelina passed," Lady MacLean said suddenly. It was a statement, but it sounded like a question.

"Yes," Ira replied.

She understood what it was the woman was asking. A ten-year-old child ought to remember their parents. To claim otherwise was either a lie, or a sign of something unnatural at foot. Either way, the matter will remain in Lady MacLean's mind. A grain of doubt would whittle away any amount of trust, given enough time.

From what Ira had observed of the Queen's Court so far, there was precious little trust to spare between its lords as it were.

Lady MacLean rose to her feet. Seeing that the woman meant to leave, Ira stood up as well and asked, "Is there nothing else?"

She was thinking of Chervnik when she spoke. From start to finish, Lady MacLean had not mentioned the city once.

Lady MacLean paused. She looked at Ira, and asked, "Did my daughter pass peacefully?"

Ira scrambled to find a proper response. She knew who it was Lady MacLean meant – even now, Ira struggled not to see Erika MacLean when she looked at the woman's face.

"I was not present," she said at last.

Ira had not known of Erika's death at all. She thought, strangely, of Valeri. The man would not take the news lightly.

Lady MacLean nodded once. She left without another word, back straight.

The door did not close behind her. Lord Simon Barton strode inside, and with him came two Zero soldiers. He smiled at Ira without an ounce of warmth in his eyes.

"Miss Hale. Please, take a seat," he bid.

"Lord Barton," Ira greeted. She offered a salute.

Lord Barton did not stop her. Ira waited until the man sat before she retook her own seat. The man's expression was pleasant; it made Ira wary in a way Lady MacLean's open anger did not.

"Do not stand at ceremony, Miss Hale. We are nearly of the same rank now, are we not?" the man said.

Ira knew very little of the Dvor's hierarchy, and neither could nor cared to compare its structure with that of the Queen's Court. "I would not wish to presume," she demurred instead.

Lord Barton's smile did not falter. "It is but the truth. I do wonder how Miss Hale came to know of her heritage?"

"Are we to begin, then?" Ira asked. She preferred an open exchange over this round-about, polite way of speaking.

"If Miss Hale is ready," Lord Barton replied.

Ira glanced at the Zero soldiers standing at attention. Lord Barton followed her eyes, and waved off her concern.

"Just a precaution. My memory is not as good as I would like it to be. It helps to have another set of eyes and ears, to catch what I may miss."

Ira nodded agreeably. Neither of them truly believed Lord Barton's words.

"I learned of the nature of my bloodline in Elsendorf," Ira said. "The rest was not so difficult to uncover."

"And how did that knowledge first manifest?" Lord Barton pressed.

"I died," Ira said shortly.

Lord Barton waited. Ira said nothing more; she did not plan to share Gabriel Todd's role in her enlightenment. Involving Hel in matters between the Court and the Dvor struck her as highly unwise.

Lord Barton shifted his line of questioning. "Did you discover the identity of the creature you were investigating in Elsendorf?"

"We did," Ira agreed. "A pair of white serpents. There is some reason to believe they hail from the World Below." Valeri had shared that much. His information likely came from Todd, which provided some credibility and clarified the remaining doubts Ira held about the serpents' irregular nature. No creature in Samodevia feasted on souls.

"And what of their purpose?" Lord Barton asked.

Ira hesitated. "That, I do not know," she said.

"You must have a guess in mind. What conclusion would you have drawn from the information your team gathered, had you returned to the Capital for an official report?" Lord Barton asked.

It was a strange thing to consider. Ira was not one to dwell on the road not taken; since her decision to leave Elsendorf with Valeri, she had never thought of her position within the Amith Capil again.

"I would consider the crimes committed by the Layfe siblings an act of provocation. The true threat lies in those who wielded the serpents as a weapon."

Lord Barton nodded placidly. "A reasonable deduction – provided the creatures in question are not some new monstrosities unleashed by the Dvor. We never did recover any trace of them, unfortunately, and your word has lost much of its weight."

Ira did not refute the man. "Why  did they target Elsendorf, and Beaufort Manor?" she asked instead.

"A strange thing to ask, Miss Hale," Lord Barton responded. "You may wish to save the question for the next meeting of the Dvor."

Ira smiled without mirth. There was no doubt in her mind that Elsendorf held importance in the grand scheme of whatever plan the Queen's Court had in motion. She was rather certain that Lord Barton was at its helm.

"I was sorry to hear about Lord Fane's demise," the man continued. "I understand you were present for that unfortunate event, as well?"

"I was," Ira agreed.

"Our informants were unable to discredit human involvement in Chervnik's fall. I do hope you carry better news," Lord Barton said.

"Chervnik's collapse was the work of Lord Fane," Ira said simply. "I am willing to provide a detailed account of Lord Fane's confession and its circumstances, as long as Dimitri is brought to me safe and whole."

"Lord Fane shared such an intimate secret with a near stranger?" Lord Barton asked, disbelief clear.

"Dying men are often quite talkative," Ira replied.

Lord Barton's lips quirked at the edges. "Your question, Miss Hale," the man said.

"Who was Yevelina Hale to you?" Ira asked, unconcerned by the abrupt end of their conversation.

"A friend," Lord Barton responded.

"And Lord Cheryl Fane?" Ira asked. "Would your lordship also count him as a friend?"

Lord Barton rose to his feet. "I believe our time is up," he said, voice even.

One of the Zero soldiers followed the man out. The other remained, staring straight at Ira and through her at the same time as they waited for the next lord to enter.

The interlude was longer this time. Ira organized her thoughts as she waited, building a profile of each lord and their motivations in her mind.

The door opened again. Lady Kiku entered, steps hurried. The woman was visibly flustered. She met Ira's salute with a distracted greeting of her own and sat down, motioning for Ira to follow.

"You should not be here," the woman said.

Ira raised her brows. "Where else should I be?"

"Somewhere safe. It is what your mother wanted for you. That is why she left the Capital – and in the end, it still came to this," Lady Kiku sighed, sadness and exasperation clear on her face.

Ira could not help leaning forward, caught by the woman's candor. "You may ask me what you wish. I would like to hear more about my mother in turn."

Lady Kiku waved the words away. "That is not necessary. You have answered enough, and Richard – that is, Lord Greoff – will collect a written account of your experience in Chervnik as soon as we are done. Ask what you would like to know. I will answer as well as I can."

Ira watched the woman with wide eyes. Lady Kiku was not a lord she had encountered previously, as she was not one to frequent training grounds or military functions. Her demeanor had always appeared far gentler than that of her companions. Ira found comfort in her presence. It had been a long time since someone had offered help so readily, without expecting anything back.

A sweet, foreign feeling.

Ira opened her eyes. She did not remember closing them, or upending the table. Her left hand was wrapped tight around Lady Kiku's throat.

"How," Lady Kiku rasped. Her face was red with lack of air, her hands trembling where they scrambled urgently at Ira's arm.

"I know myself," Ira told her.

She did, and far too well to trust warm feelings and trust appearing where none such existed before.

Ira let the woman go. It was too late, naturally – the damage was already done. "I suppose this is how you will justify my death," she said.

Lady Kiku had her hands pressed to her own throat, panting for breath. She looked startled.

"That is not," the woman began.

A sudden movement drew both of their attention. The Zero soldier who had remained in the room was dead, Ira realized, neck bent at a grotesque angle. He had likely attempted to intervene when Ira had first lunged for Lady Kiku.

Any sense of guilt Ira might have felt was subsumed by the sight of the dead man's arms struggling to push his body up from where it lay slumped against a wall.

Lady Kiku inhaled sharply. Ira grabbed her arm and threw the woman behind her, acting on instinct. The Zero soldier rose shakily to his feet. He remained half-hunched, his eyes rolled into his skull.

The door burst open. Lord Barton stood at the threshold, an unknown number of Zero soldiers behind him. Ira did not move her eyes from the dead man, and was therefore unable to see his reaction. The brief silence was heavy with unspoken words.

"Ira Hale," Lord Barton called at last. "You are guilty of attacking a Lord of the Queen's Court. For this crime-"

"It was always going to end this way," Ira interrupted. "Lead me to my cell, but please, do deal with this first."

The dead soldier staggered forward. His hand swept toward Ira, uncoordinated. It struck the edge of the overturned table instead and broke a piece of wood clean off.

Lady Kiku retreated a step. "Simon," she said quietly, fear obvious in her voice.

Lord Barton said nothing. Zero soldiers rushed into the room, forming a wall between Ira and Lady Kiku and their fallen companion.

"Follow me," Lord Barton said.

Ira complied, accompanied by a small troop of Zero soldiers on each side. She darted a glance over her shoulder, but could not make out the room's remaining inhabitants clearly. Too many white uniforms to tell them apart.

She did meet Lord Greoff's eyes in passing, however. The man waved at Ira with a smile. A silver coin glinted between his fingers, catching the light as it was flipped in the air, over and over again.