Someone knocked on my door shortly after sunrise. I ignored it. They knocked again, and I pulled Dream Haven over my head. There was a third knock. Persistent people are a design flaw in the world.
"Vortex."
Sorel. That made ignoring her less practical.
"Alive," I said.
"The Crown is here."
I opened one eye. That was considerably worse than breakfast.
***
There were twenty-three new people in Merrow's courtyard. I counted, because nobody had given me anything better to do: twelve Crown soldiers, six officials carrying enough paper to frighten me, three healers, one woman in a dark blue coat with a silver Crown pin, and one man whose whole purpose seemed to be standing beside her and writing down everything anyone said. The woman was the magistrate. Elizabeth had been right; apparently magistrates existed so that princesses didn't have to become them. I approved.
