Her attack on her rivals had established two simple rules for the others. Proceed at your own risk, and if you do proceed, do not fail. This was no longer the cloak and dagger world of noble politics, where the nobles could get away with murder if they were clever enough to cover their tracks. Keritanima had raised it to a new level, a level where the lives of those who dared dabble in intrigue was in very real and very immediate danger. Because she was intelligent enough to unravel even compex plans, she had magical powers that would make it very easy for her to find her enemies, and she had already demonstrated a willingness to immediately kill anyone she knew was conspiring against her, she felt that the noble houses, her father, and other powerful organizations in Wikuna would think twice about doing that again.

They would do it again eventually. This was Wikuna, and intrigue was like food to a starving man. The hunger for power would fuel the desire in others, and they would lose their fear of her and again start arranging things so they had the most power. But now they were going to be very careful. And to be that careful, they were going to have to pull back and reorganize themselves, prepare to be just that careful.

By then, it would be too late.

She silently cursed the laziness of her father. Where was he? Certainly he finished repealing the laws preventing him from punishing her by now. She expected them to come for her today. She had to get the flogging out of the way, so she could move onto the next step in the plan, and she couldn't do that so long as she was confined to her room. Kalina had served her primary purpose in allowing her to get Ulfan on the ball, but the risk was too great to use Kalina's services any more than absolutely necessary. Kalina was good at pretending to be her, but she didn't know everything, and Keritanima had changed since her time abroad. There was a chance that Kalina would blow it. It wasn't Kalina's fault, it was Keritanima's. Kalina needed time to study Keritanima, to learn how to play the new incarnation of her personality, that of the Princess. If Kalina had some time to prepare, Keritanima wouldn't think twice about leaving her to pretend to be her. But time was the one thing they didn't have. She had exactly two months and twenty-seven days, and every day counted. She needed to get out there and find out what was going on with the noble houses, so she would know what plans to lay in order to keep them from interfering with her.

Houses. Keritanima chuckled wickedly once when she thought of Arthas Zalan. With him dead, that meant that the ruling chair of the house now belonged to Sheba, his eldest child. Sheba would chafe at the responsibilities, of having to be a part of the system. If there was a more fitting punishment for Sheba, Keritanima didn't think she could think of it. To stick Sheba into the world of long boring speeches and political backbiting was an eminently suitable punishment for her part in hurting Keritanima's family. Shackling Sheba's free spirit to her chair was a just dessert for what she'd done.

The flogging. She already had a plan for that. It was going to be very exhausting, but there was a way she could protect herself with Sorcery and be inobtrusive about it. She couldn't afford to be bedridden for weeks recovering from one hundred lashes, and the mystique about her would only increase after the flogging.

It really should be today. Her father wasn't about to give her time to attempt to throw up more blocks. Keritanima peeked out of the curtains and looked towards the window. The sun was already above the window, and that meant that it was well into mid-morning. Her father had promised a noontime flogging in the Market Square, and he would deliver on exactly that. That meant that if was going to be today, then it would be very soon. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, a Tellurian device that was amazingly accurate in keeping time, and saw that it was only an hour before noon. Climbing out of bed, she removed her nightgown-she didn't remember putting it on-and tested her strength with the Weave. She was still drained, but she thought she had enough to pull off what she was planning. Her first step was to weave together a Ward, a ward that would repel all things but air and liquids, a Ward that extended no further than a hair's bredth away from her skin. Her fur pierced the Ward, but since the fur was there when the Ward was created and Keritanima took the fur into account when she created the Ward, it would be able to stay as it was when the Ward was made. Sorcery couldn't affect the Sorcerer, but there was nothing stopping her from putting a layer of magical armor as close to her skin as she could get it without touching. Her fur didn't count, because the hairs that made up her fur were dead, where her skin was alive. That was a significant distinction where Sorcery was concerned. She set the Ward so it would sustain itself for some time, hours, and also set it so it would move with her like a form-hugging dress. The problem now was that she couldn't put on clothes aside from a robe. They too would be repelled by the Ward, and since she didn't know what her father would have used to flog her, she was going to take no chances.

She slipped on a robe, looking to see how noticable the fact was that it wasn't touching her. Not that bad. Tying it was a challenge, because the Ward prevented her from grabbing the ties, and the Ward's boundary made everything as slippery to her as a wet fish. Her fur provided some traction, but she had no fur on the gripping pads on her palms and fingers. The only part of her that could touch something was the bottom of her feet, for that was where the Ward ended.

The door opened, and Binter entered carrying a tray of food. "Highness, how is Miranda?" he asked immediately.

"Still sleeping," she replied. "And let her sleep, Binter. She needs it."

"She's been asleep for two days, Highness."

"I know. I checked her, Binter, so don't worry. She's in natural sleep now, and she'll wake up within a couple of hours."

"She'll wake up now," Miranda called groggily from the bed.

Binter and Keritanima looked in that direction, then they rushed over to her. Keritanima kept her distance while Binter put his humongous hand on Miranda's forehead, literally only using one finger to check for fever. "Are you well, Miranda?" he asked.

"I feel like I was dragged behind a carriage," she said weakly. "What happened?"

"You were shot by an assassin," Keritanima said with a bit of seething in her voice. "In the kitchen."

"I remember going into the kitchen with Zak, but nothing after that," she replied a moment later.

"That may be a good thing," Binter told her gently. "Her Highness says that you are best off sleeping, little one. You should go back to sleep."

"In a minute. What did I miss?"

"You missed me killing Arthas Zalan for trying to kill you," Keritanima said bluntly.

"You didn't!"

She nodded grimly. "I had proof of it, so it was legal. Did they ever come and ask about that, Binter?"

He nodded. "They came with a large contingent of guards. I presented the body and pistol and told them what happened. They did not do anything after that other than remove the body for burial."

"Of course not. They know you'd never lie to them. Anyway, Jenawalani, Praki Mation, and Carlis Eward were in on it with him, but they didn't give me the proof I needed to blast them. For once in her life, my little sister kept her mouth shut. More's the pity."

Miranda yawned. "I think going back to sleep is a good idea," she said wearily. "But not until I eat. I'm starving."

"Binter, give her some breakfast," Keritanima ordered. "Then help her change into a new nightgown and get back to sleep."

"You won't need me?"

Keritanima shook her head. "If they come to whip me, they'll make me go alone. You and Zak need to be here to protect Miranda and Kalina, because they're not in a position to protect themselves. Don't worry, I'll be fine," she cut him off with a smile. "I have a plan, Binter."