Another day passed after Goldie had her moment of spying on the ceiling of Alistair's sickroom.

Things seemed to have calmed down in the palace. There was no talk about the King's illness or the outcome of the duel. But Goldie wasn't fooled.

She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The other shoe started to shake ominously overhead with the arrival of an emissary from the Demon Army outside.

Goldie was with Frederick at the time. She was aware that the ominous armed force outside the city's walls had not withdrawn. And if the Empire had placed spies in the palace before, then those spies would know about the mystic beasts. Goldie and her children would be targets as much as the Royal Family, if anything happened in the palace. So it made sense for her to stick with the young lords and keep her children as close as possible at all times.

A servant who the young lords had bribed to keep them informed as to relevant matters going on in and around the palace informed them that the Demon Empire's messenger was receiving a private audience with Lord Callum, sitting in the King's stead.

That set off alarm bells for the Dessians.

"Why would the King not handle this matter himself?" William wondered aloud once the servant had gone. "He should take any opportunity to ensure that these invaders leave his lands immediately."

Frederick cast a sidelong glance at Goldie. He had not told his brother what the spider had witnessed yet. Goldie hadn't felt entirely comfortable letting Alistair's health information out of the bag without his permission, especially when she had snuck into his sickroom just to get it. The King had never been anything but a friend to her and the others. If he was sick or even dying, it ought to be his privilege to decide when to reveal that information.

The fact that Frederick accepted that told her that the young lords, and anyone known to be in their retinue, would probably be fine even if the palace was overtaken. They were here on a diplomatic mission representing their father, after all. The Demon Empire seemed to abide by some system of international norms, even if they sometimes bent them.

"Perhaps the King is indisposed after that difficult fight," Frederick ventured.

"What?" William asked, looking askance at his brother. "Anyone could see the King only suffered a relatively minor wound, though. Certainly nothing that would prevent him from seeing a guest. Unless there was poison. The Empire is known for using that. Do you know something that I do not?"

Frederick shrugged and looked away.

Not my secret to tell, he thought, in a tone that suggested it was intended for Goldie's consumption.

"We have to find out what is going on," William said. "If the Imperial Army remains here, we would be foolish not to learn why. King Alistair would want us to know if he were managing these matters himself. Otherwise we might bring his daughter back into a dangerous situation rather than keeping her in relative safety."

I'm fairly certain the King's most urgent concern is that we go and retrieve Rosslyn, Goldie thought. Not what we do afterward. The city is at least safer than the inside of the dungeon was.

But she wanted to know the same information William was after, and they probably had the same underlying reasoning. They needed to know if it was time to flee the city. It was surrounded by hostile troops.

Frederick nodded to what William had said, and the brothers quickly dressed for the possibility that they might encounter a representative of a foreign nation, in their formal court attire.

Goldie accompanied Frederick on his shoulder, while Samson stayed behind to keep the little ones safe.

William led the way through the palace, and they made it to the audience chamber just in time. The doors opened before them, and a man with obvious demonic heritage—the horns were a dead giveaway—stepped out in front of the brothers.

"What news of events with the Demon Empire?" called William.

The emissary looked slightly startled to be hailed by two men who were not of the Claustrian Royal Family or even citizens of the country. Their court attire was subtly different than a Claustrian noble's would have been, and to a man like this, such discrepancies stuck out.

Or so Frederick silently explained for Goldie's benefit.

Then the messenger scowled.

"Apparently, the Empire must wait another day to find out what news," he said. "Envoys from—" he looked them over carefully—"Dessia. You would do well to take your leave soon. We respect diplomatic privileges, but—" he raised his voice—"the sack of a city is inevitably violent and uncontrolled until the conquerors seize the reins of power."

"What does that mean, the Empire must wait another day?" Frederick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ask him!" the demon emissary said, pointing a thumb at Lord Callum, who emerged from the chamber behind him, looking harried.

"Young lords William and Frederick," he said quietly. "I was not aware that you had been called to this meeting. In fact, I was positive that your attendance was not requested."

The Demon Empire's messenger had begun to walk away, but at these words, he stopped by the door, Goldie noticed, and listened.

William reddened. "These are matters we must be made aware of, Lord Callum," he said in a tone that was more bluster than confidence. "We reside here at the moment, too. The fate of the city concerns us as it does you."

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"Oh, does it?" Lord Callum replied, frowning and finally looking William in the eye. Before, his gaze had been downcast, as if he was only half in the conversation, and half focused on his own thoughts. "I thought that you were the young lord who lost the Kingdom's prized possession not three days back and was ordered to go and retrieve it. Your concern would seem to be elsewhere, and not in the city at all. I believe you would be permitted to go and deal with your actual concerns, if you wished to go now. If I have mistaken to whom I am speaking, please correct me."

William took a step back, Frederick let out a quiet, surprised snort, and even Goldie was a bit taken aback. She didn't know King Alistair's people well, but Lord Callum, who she had seen a couple of times attending the King, had always seemed a meek, mild-tempered sort of man.

Now Lord Callum seemed to have almost lost his temper with the King's foreign guests.

The spider guessed that it was because things were getting desperate, and Lord Callum felt that his back was against a wall. She wished she had Samson with her at that moment. He always understood these political matters better than her or Adon, despite both Goldie and Adon being better than Samson at mind-reading.

Lord Callum had been a bit obscure with his statement, too, perhaps because he was cognizant of the Empire's messenger still lingering, listening in on the conversation.

"Be that as it may—" William began.

But Goldie interrupted.

Is this matter something that will require the King's attention? the spider sent, carefully only including William, Frederick, and Lord Callum in the telepathic message. Something that will require King Alistair to be able to act as himself and interact with other people?

Lord Callum's eyes darted to the emissary standing by the door before he gave Goldie a small nod.

We should probably continue this conversion out of hearing of the Empire's messenger, I imagine, she added.

This time, Lord Callum's nod was emphatic.

"Let us go, then," William said.

Lord Callum turned and led the way back into the audience chamber. As William and Frederick followed, Goldie observed two guards who had practically melted into the shadows step out and close the door after them.

I guess that will take care of the emissary spying, she thought.

As the door shut behind the group, Lord Callum narrowed his eyes slightly and looked from person to person—including a quick glance at Goldie—as if deciding whether to trust the three individuals in front of him. Then his slightly stoic expression gave way to exhaustion.

"Before I say anything else, why not tell me what you already know?" he asked.

"The King is unwell," Frederick replied immediately.

William remained silent, just watching his brother and Lord Callum. Goldie could tell that despite Frederick's vague response, William knew that his brother was aware of more than William had realized.

"Unwell," Lord Callum repeated. "That is the least of it…"

Is the King dying? Goldie asked.

"Perhaps," Lord Callum said. "We do not know yet. He may pull through. But this situation, every challenge that has been set before him, tests his strength. A man of less physical fortitude than our King would have died a long time ago."

"What exactly did the Empire's messenger want?" William asked.

"He wanted to see the King," Lord Callum replied.

"Obviously," William said. "For what purpose, though?"

"Just to see him," Lord Callum said. "Specifically, he wanted to assess the King's condition."

The young lords and Goldie simply waited in silence for Lord Callum to clarify.

"King Alistair won the duel with the Empire's representative," Lord Callum said after a long moment. "Or, at least, that was our perception of the matter. As it happens, the Empire reckons such things rather differently. Their claim—what the emissary said—was that a duel is only decided by surrender or survival."

"What does that mean?" Frederick asked. "We saw that the Empire's man died."

"Not death," William said slowly. "Survival."

What? Goldie asked.

"Lord William is correct," Lord Callum said. "It is exactly as you are thinking."

"They want to confirm that the King survived?" Frederick asked. "Otherwise, they will say he lost the duel?"

"They would consider it a draw, to be more precise," said Lord Callum grimly. "Meaning that since the result was inconclusive, the Empire is free to continue their assault on the city. Now with the added bonus of our side's single most powerful warrior, and the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, out of their way."

"That would be quite a win for them," William said.

"Would they extend the challenge for the city to present a champion for single combat again?" Frederick asked. "Or just resume assaulting the city?"

"It does not matter either way," Lord Callum said. "Claustria has no champion anywhere near the caliber of King Alistair. Our closest option would have been Princess Rosslyn—" his mouth became a hard line—"but she is lost to us at the moment."

"I had not considered matters in that light," William said, swallowing. Goldie felt a bit of guilt from the young lord, almost like the sensation of creeping nausea.

"Yes, well, if you could rescue Princess Rosslyn quickly, perhaps this crisis can be averted," Lord Callum said in a testy tone. "At least we will have a champion if we need her, and if not, the Princess is a capable and respected military leader. The soldiers will follow her, and she is far more competent to lead the defense of the city than I am. We still have the advantage of the walls."

"Be realistic," Frederick said firmly. "The rescue of the Princess is a mission that will take days to complete at a minimum. The Empire's messenger said that he had to 'wait another day' to find out what was going on. Meaning that they do not intend to give us a week or so to descend to the bottom of the dungeon and rescue the Princess."

"And you can forget about the 'advantage of the walls,'" William added acidly. "We have studied our history, Lord Callum. Most sieges end with the capture of the besieged city. Unless…"

He left the thought unfinished, and though Goldie briefly tried to pry into what William was getting at, his mind suddenly seemed like a blank page.

Unless the siege is broken by a relief army, disease, weather, or logistical problems, Frederick thought loudly, clearly perplexed. I do not know what William thinks is happening… or likely to happen.

All you need is for the King to show himself to the Empire's representatives for long enough to confirm that he is alive? Goldie transmitted.

"That is correct," Lord Callum said. "But he is in no shape even to get out of bed at the moment. He barely survived the encounter with the Empire's champion and subsequent surgery, though His Majesty made the fight look much easier than it was. His vital signs are terrible, the healers tell me…"

I think I might have something that could help, Goldie sent.

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