I kept myself busy in the weeks after Dru's memorial. I dashed out a letter to Ambrose in our cottage's small library and rethought the notion of revealing myself fully to him. I hesitated to tell him who I was in a letter. He deserved to know in person, and I was certain I'd die from the strain of waiting for a reply.

Papa and I found comfort in each other during those days. We spent time together each evening, often remembering Dru. She was such a profound influence on both of us, that it was almost impossible to accept that she was truly gone from this world.

"You were close." I peered at Papa over our nightly brandy.

His smile was so sad I regretted prying. "Of course, but not the way you may think, Kay-love. No, Dru understood how debilitating our Gift can be. Her own is...was... so similar, we often worked together to practice our control.

"I loved her deeply, but never romantically. She was like a sister, helping me, encouraging me, and threatening me, when necessary." He laughed softly in remembrance. "We joked once about marrying each other just so we could avoid being trapped in a loveless match for the rest of our lives. My father heard us and put any such notion to rest at once. He was already seeking matches for me and didn't want a rumor to damage any negotiations.

"Anyway," he sighed. "She was a dear and true friend to both of us."

I received a letter from Ambrose the next day, and the somber feel of the words made me wish I had caught him before he left. I wrote back quickly, throwing as much cheek and humor, tempered with respect for his grief into my words as I could.

It was some months before Ambrose's letters consistently showed a lighter vein. I sucked up my courage and wrote asking to meet him, at long last, in Karami. I swear I held my breath until his response came just days later.

I dashed to my room the moment I snatched the letter out of the day's pile. My hands shook while I tore open the envelope and quickly scanned Ambrose's response. I fell back on my bed laughing in relief at his teasing so like my Ambrose.

Tears started in my eyes when I saw how he opened and closed the letter.

My Kayla,

Lovingly,

Your Ambrose

I blinked hard, studying those words.

Your Ambrose.

Mine. My Ambrose.

My Kayla,

A breathless cry burst from my throat.

Gods, yes.

I closed my eyes and held the letter close. He asked me to trust him, and I resolved now that I would. I tugged off one of my thin gloves and gently stroked the parchment of the letter.

With my Gift, I detected grief, confusion, and anxiety. Pressing my fingertips firmly into the paper, I found Ambrose's core emotion when he wrote this letter: Hope.

With a soft gasp, I pulled my Gift back and tugged my glove back on. My hands shook while I tucked the letter away.

Back at my desk in the library, I found an urgent notice from R. Fanche, Esquire. I tapped the notice and a link connected to a young man who gave me a fright until I looked closer.

He looked remarkably like my Ambrose, but his bright red hair was cut short, only brushing his ears and his eyes were more gray than blue on the screen.

"Miss Kayla D?"

"Speaking."

"I apologize for intruding upon you. I am Remus Fanche, retained attorney for Grand Domai Rafal Fanche. You are a student of one Master Ambrose, correct?"

"I am."

"Do you mind if I ask a few questions about your courses and record our conversation?"

I frowned. "Not at all."

"Miss Kayla, over the last four months, have you noticed any slacking on Master Ambrose's part?"

"Goodness, no!" I cried. "He sent word that he had a family matter that would prevent him from traveling for the foreseeable future. If anything, my courses have been even better in the last four months. My marks come through within hours and any critiques are consistently uploaded within a day."

Remus Fanche nodded and seemed to be taking notes. "Would you be willing to attest to all of this in court?"

Alarmed, I nodded. "Of course. May I ask what this is about? Is something wrong with Master Ambrose?"

"Not at all," Remus assured me. "I simply need to verify that Master Ambrose didn't fall behind in his work recently."

"Not even slightly," I declared. "Ambrose is always diligent and attentive."

"Excellent," Remus murmured. "I do thank you for your time, Miss Kayla. I'll be sending a transcript of our conversation. If you could review it and apply your signature, I would be most grateful."

"Of course. Good day to you, sir."

***

The gown I wore to my first ball became a signature style for me. Most of my blouses and dresses were crafted in the same way, gracefully draping across my breasts with long sweeping sleeves that bared my shoulders. I always wore gloves, to dampen the feedback from my Gift and cover the scar on my left arm, and these, along with a matching veil, became part of my basic wardrobe.

I implemented a high, cowled neck as well, that rolled up over my chin and nose to act as a veil when I didn't care to wear one. Papa often pointed out the trend among girls in Cheslyn but I hardly paid attention.

I was always flattered to see several school-aged girls and even debutants wearing designs similar to mine, complete with flirty, transparent veils and matching gloves. When we went to inspect a new barge before we departed for Karami, I acknowledged their greetings and hails with a nod, even stopping to speak with a few of them as we made our way back from the boathouse.

I was stunned to find so many admirers among them. My peers never gazed at me with such wonder and awe. Even a few young men hovered about, pressing flowers with small notes forward with glistening eyes and pink cheeks.

Holy hell.

Throughout my time as Dame, I had quite accidentally gained a reputation for grace and fashion that impressed the upcoming generations of Cheslyn Bay. It was not unusual, of course, but I never saw my influence so obviously on display before.

I narrowed my eyes at my father, who sat across from me in our carriage with a smug smile.

"Papa," I shook my head at him. "What have you done?"

"Me? Nothing," he laughed lightly, eyes wide in the purest innocence. "You've become a role model for our people all on your own."

I sighed and peered out the window at the passing landscape.

"There is something more I wanted to discuss with you, Kay," Papa went on, drawing my attention back to him.

I waited while he crossed and uncrossed his legs. "Papa?" Such anxious energy was out of character for him.

"I Designated you as my heir just weeks before you were born, you know," he began finally. "Armina wanted the title but none of the work. She was furious when she realized the Rite of Rule would go to you instead of her."

"I can imagine," I muttered. Life was about status, luxury, and privilege for Armina, not work. "What does that have to do with anything, now?"

"Well," Papa sighed and peered at me, his light gray eyes shimmering. "As a mature woman, and heiress to a Minor House of Ankher, it may be time for you to consider seeking a Heartsire."

I was startled at the blush staining my father's cheeks and looked away to give him a moment to compose himself.

This is a conversation I should have with my mother, with aunts, or even with close friends. All I had was Papa, however, and he was doing his best. He never pushed for me to marry or threw suitors at me, and I knew that was a blessing many of my peers couldn't count on. In my position, I did not need to marry, only to produce an heir. That would be the point of a Heartsire, a man of my choosing whose primary purpose was to father and mentor my heirs.

I laced my fingers together in my lap and sat up straighter. "Actually, Papa I may have someone in mind."

How did I tell my father what I was planning? If things went well, Prince Rafal would be my lover within a few days, and who knew what more might come of that liaison. I hadn't thought that far, and I didn't dare. Rafal had made no promises to me, and I couldn't expect anything more than an interlude if we even came to that.

"Oh?" He wasn't blushing anymore, but he couldn't keep his hands still. His fingers went from tapping on his thigh to brushing along his collar.

"I have arranged to meet someone I've been corresponding with in Karami," I said carefully.

Papa nodded and fixed his gaze on his feet. "I should have known you would already be dealing with this," he went on quietly. "You've always been so practical."

"I don't know what may come of it," I cautioned. "If it falls through, I would be...open...to any suggestions. From you." I cleared my throat and blinked when Papa frowned at me.

"Well," he clenched his fists and released them. "Dru and I. Well, we always hoped that you and Prince Rafal might form a connection."

I swallowed laughter but couldn't stop the smile those words brought to life. "She mentioned him often."

"Yes, well," he sighed. "We hoped you would find each other agreeable but didn't want to force it. We plotted to put the two of you together, but the timing never worked out. We weren't allowed to choose a spouse for ourselves, you see," he nodded absently. "And we agreed that we would not do that to our children."

I reached for his hand and grasped it in both of mine. "Thank you, Papa."

He smiled that sweet, loving smile that always lit his eyes and enhanced the brackets of lines around them. "Be careful, Kay-love," he murmured, cupping his other hand around mine. "Men can be crass creatures. Not enough of us can truly appreciate an independent and strong woman. Choose wisely, and if one doesn't do the job, don't feel bound to him. You are free to explore as you will."

I nodded and dropped a kiss on his knuckles.

He spoke no further on the matter, turning our conversation to my schedule of lectures instead.

I was reclined in my bed aboard our private train car with a book before I realized I hadn't told Papa that my planned meeting was with Prince Rafal.