Beri awoke early the next morning to dress for Court as he always did. His chest felt heavy and full of dull pain. Katie. He wasn’t accustomed to waking with her in his bed anymore. Since her mother’s coronation, she spent most of her time in the Summernds, attending to her own duties. He had already missed her so much, and now she was unreachable. An image of her ughing on the beach with sun gleaming from her dark hair filled his mind. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

  When he finally gathered himself, he pced his feet on the floor. Someone cleared his throat. Beri hissed and drew in magic, but then he realized it was only his Head of Household, a neatly liveried Brownie called Minter. Minter held a notepad in one long hand and a pen in the other, no doubt ready to tick off Beri’s itinerary for the day.

  “Good morning, Most High.” He smiled with his small, vegetarian teeth, but there was something awkward in his posture. “Did you sleep well?”

  He hadn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, there were fshes of green ser fire and pools of blood ruffled by falling rain. “We survived the night. What do we have today?”

  Minter cleared his throat. His shoulders were tight. Faint anxiety lined his mouth. “Truthfully, Most High.” He cleared his throat again. “Truthfully, there is nothing on your agenda.” He smiled brightly despite the reluctant tone of his voice. “Duke Diltani has taken your duties for the present.” Minter paused, smile fading. “It has been decided that after your traumatic experience, you should rest.”

  Beri only stared at the servant for a moment, blinking away shock. “It’s been decided we should rest.”

  Minter flinched. The man had known Beri since the day he was born; he actually had the audacity to flinch?

  “Yes, Most High.”   “Who by?” Beri hurled himself to his feet. Minter took a step back, though he stood at the foot of the bed and four feet of space y between them. “Who decided this without our consent?”

  Minter tried another smile. “Your advisors, my lord. They held a meeting and they decided–”

  “They had no right to decide anything of the sort!” Beri’s heart pounded fury. “They have no right and no authority–”

  Minter held up a hand as if to protect himself. Beri’s chest seized. He’d frightened the man, really frightened him. Don’t shoot the messenger, Katie might have said. He took a steadying breath. “We’d like to see them, Minter. Immediately.”

  Minter bowed low, so low Beri couldn’t see his face, then scampered away. Beri bathed and dressed before his braiders came in to do his hair. They were halfway through when Countess Lirelle, the White Pace’s legal counsel, let herself into his sitting room. She was an elegant Sidhe woman with crimson hair hanging to her knees, dressed in Quintinar blue to indicate her loyalty.

  She closed the door behind herself. “Good morning, Most High.”

  Lirelle had been a childhood friend of his father’s, and she’d stayed close to his family for several hundred years now. Beri had a vivid memory of her climbing a drainpipe in a very fine dress to save a ball his brother had thrown onto the roof during a game of keep away. Anger flooded through Beri’s veins again. The other advisors knew this; instead of coming in a group as he’d ordered, they’d sent Lirelle to disarm their king’s anger.

  Coldly, without moving from his position on the sofa, he said, “Countess.”

  She lifted an eyebrow and regarded him the way his mother might if he’d spoken to her rudely. “I slept very well, my lord, how kind of you to ask.”

  The advisors had chosen their messenger well. Beri sighed, defting. Lirelle seated herself primly in a chair across the coffee table. When a servant appeared, bowing, at her side, she said, “Tea, please. Mint and chamomile.”

  It was Beri’s favorite. She was managing him. At least she wasn’t afraid he’d harm her like Minter had been. He blurted, “I’m not crazy, Lirelle.”

  She reached across the table to take his hand. “I know, darling. No one thinks you’re crazy.”

  Beri scoffed. Lirelle tilted her head sideways, regarding him with thoughtful jade eyes. “All right. Perhaps some people think you’re crazy. But I think you’re exhausted, that you witnessed something awful you can’t bring yourself to face, and that your dearest friend is still missing. No one works under circumstances like that.”

  He softened, just a little. “I do. I should. I’m the only one–I’m the only one left.”

  Lirelle shook her head, regretful. “No, love. You shouldn’t. We can’t afford for you to break. Better for our king to take a week’s vacation than to lose him completely when he really does go mad.”

  Beri’s vision clouded with tears, though he wasn’t certain why. Maybe it was just her mannerism, kind and affectionate as an aunt might be when he felt so very alone. He nodded.

  Lirelle stood, gown rustling, then rounded the table to sit beside him. She squeezed his knee. “Just give it a week or two. You know I won’t let them work against your interests.”

  Beri blinked wetness out of his eyes but resisted wiping it away. If he used his hands, he’d be admitting the tears were real. “All right.”

  “All right.” Lirelle patted him, then stood. She withdrew to the proper number of paces and curtsied low. “May I be excused, Most High?”

  “You may.”

  She left as she’d come, with the lingering smell of honeysuckle perfume and the whisper of velvet. Beri sighed but didn’t dare slouch against the sofa as he’d like to. If he disturbed the braiders they’d have to start over.

  What was he supposed to do when he couldn’t work? It wasn’t as if he’d never wished for time off, but it felt strange to have it. If he was honest with himself, he had plenty to do. Nick had cimed these ‘Matil’ were interdimensional travelers. His heart wanted to despair at the hopelessness of finding them across multiple timelines. He didn’t let it. If the Matil could pass between universes, surely he could recreate the ability.

  There was a possibility that finding Katie could take a very long time.

  Well, he thought, I suppose I should start in the library.