The Divine Empress returned to her supper.

“Good. Dàme Rascha, you shall have anything my granddaughter requires. I expect weekly reports on her progress.

The vye bowed. “It will be as you wish. But I must voice my concerns. These demands will place profound, perhaps unbearable, strain upon your granddaughter. Old Magic is powerful, Your Radiance, but it must be nurtured carefully. There are disturbing precedents. Her Highness is but twelve years old. She is the last Faeregine.”

At this, the Empress actually laughed.

“She’s not the last Faeregine, you fool. She’s the first in a thousand years!”