Akkarin slipped into his formal robes, assessing his appearance critically in the mirror. He had never been particularly vain, but he was well-aware that most women found him pleasing to the eye, particularly in the ornate black and silver formalwear he was currently wearing. He had heard the whispered comments, and he would typically roll his eyes inwardly and ignore them. Today, however, he had a strong desire to look his best and truly take advantage of his better-than-average looks. However, there were no ladies in Court who interested him, so the true reason for his preening must be closer to home.

Akkarin quickly shuttered those thoughts before they led down a very dangerous path. He dropped his hands from his robes, leaving the room quickly before he had any more time for contemplation. The king had, fortunately, heeded Akkarin's advice about insisting upon a meeting with the Lonmar princess before signing a contract, and her delegation was due in Imardin imminently. Merin had wanted a full greeting party which meant all of the Council as well as some other key members of Court. For once, however, Akkarin was not dreading a Court function. He had to admit a certain curiosity about the cloistered princess.

The delegation had not yet arrived when Akkarin reached the palace, and he quickly made his way to the reception hall, taking his place near the head of the line of nobles. Just to his left, Merin glanced over, giving a slight nod in greeting. Akkarin returned the greeting before letting his attention wander, using both his ears and ability to read surface thoughts to scan the nobles nearest him for anything that might concern the Guild.

The King's Herald entered the hall around thirty minutes after Akkarin, blowing loudly on his horn to gather everyone's attention. "Lords and ladies, the Lonmar delegation has arrived," he announced.

"Send them in at once," King Merin instructed. The Herald bowed before exiting the hall again, returning a minute later leading a large party of Lonmar men and women. Akkarin scanned them quickly, easily spotting the princess near the center. Outwardly, she appeared perfectly normal—he saw no physical deformities or other disfigurements which could explain her confinement. She walked with her hands clasped in front of her and her head down in a subservient pose, seemingly unaffected by the countless eyes that were on her. Briefly, Akkarin wondered how someone who had been isolated so long could cope so well with the attention, but he pushed that thought aside to puzzle over later. At the moment, he had a more important job to do—reading the surface thoughts of any Lonmar he could to determine their true motivations.

Reading surface thoughts in a large crowd was always difficult—in fact, Akkarin tended to block out all of them when around a multitude of people unless he needed to hear them for some reason. Unless he knew a person very well, it was nearly impossible to pick out an individual in a crowd which made everything he heard somewhat confusing since he never knew who was thinking what. Truthfully, he would have preferred to meet the Lonmar delegation by himself or with only Merin whose mind voice he knew well enough to block, but that certainly would not have been considered acceptable. Akkarin's only saving grace was that people's surface thoughts were in their native language, so he could at least eliminate half of the voices.

Akkarin concentrated on the swirl of thoughts around him, thankful that he had cultivated an aloof persona so that no one would find his blank expression odd. He picked out the Lonmar voices, setting his focus to an individual thought and letting it strengthen in his mind until he heard enough to satisfy himself. It was exhausting work, and it did not take long for a headache to begin to form, but he forced himself to work through the pain.

Eventually, the pounding in his head grew so great that he had no choice but to stop. He actually felt himself sway slightly on his feet and sent as much Healing energy to his head as he dared in order to avoid passing out. The delegation had reached the front of the room, and King Merin was greeting the leader. Knowing more mind reading would be unwise, Akkarin instead used the opportunity to study the expressions on the faces of those in the delegation, but he saw nothing there that worried him, just as he had heard nothing in their thoughts. In some ways, that worried him even more, for he still had no explanation for the princess's confinement. However, that was ultimately a decision that Merin would need to make—Akkarin could do no more than inform him of what he had heard.

The necessary formalities for the welcome lasted well into the night. Akkarin had been invited to all of them, but he bowed out just before the formal dinner, citing Guild business. No one questioned him as he left the palace and returned to his quarters, just as they did not question him a few hours later when he returned to the palace quite late at night, this time without his formalwear. He found Merin in one of the smaller receiving rooms, looking more weary than Akkarin could ever remember seeing him. After bowing respectfully, Akkarin approached with eyebrows raised. "Long day?" he questioned.

Merin snorted. "I sometimes wonder if it would have been better to have been born just an ordinary nobleman in one of the Houses."

"Ah, but life would be much less exciting."

"On days like today, I could live with much less excitement."

Akkarin could not help but agree with that statement. "Well, I can provide you with very little excitement," he told the king. "Nothing I heard indicated any deception from Lonmar."

"Even from the princess?"

Akkarin shook his head. "I cannot pick out specific people's thoughts unless I happen to know them very well, so I could not confirm that I read hers in particular." Akkarin had told Merin the limits of his ability many times before, but the king seemed to conveniently forget them when those limits affected his use of Akkarin's abilities.

"Am I included in the group you know very well?" Merin questioned with raised eyebrows.

"You know I do not read your thoughts. I will swear it to you if you like." Akkarin met Merin's steady gaze with one of his own. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He sensed displeasure from the king, but he could not fathom why. Merin was smart enough and experienced enough to know that he could not blame Akkarin for the lack of information he had gleaned from the Lonmar delegation.

"What about your family? Could you pick out your brothers' thoughts if needed?"

Akkarin felt the cold weight of dread in his stomach. Merin knew of Edgar's indiscretion. Of course he does, Akkarin's inner voice chided immediately. Secrets like that don't tend to stay secret for long. Akkarin knew he was in dangerous water and would need to tread carefully. "I used to read them when I was younger and first discovered the ability, but you know I have done my best to avoid my family in recent years."

"Indeed."

"If you would like, I could try to pick out the princess's thoughts in a more private setting."

Merin stared at him a moment longer before shaking his head. "I believe you have done enough." Akkarin recognized the dismissal for what it was as well as the veiled threat behind the words. However, he could do nothing except bow and leave the room. Just before he left, he glanced over his shoulder to see that Merin was still watching him carefully, a look on his face that Akkarin had never seen before.

Akkarin did not eat much for dinner that night. He could tell that disappointed Takan, particularly because it was not Sonea's night to eat with him, but he simply could not bring himself to do more than pick at the food. A cold feeling of dread had settled in his stomach after his conversation with the King. He could not help but feel that Edgar's actions were going to have far reaching consequences for Akkarin himself. He cursed under his breath at the thought. After joining the Guild, he had distanced himself from the family to try and avoid such things, but he supposed at the end of the day, a scandal like the one Edgar had caused was unavoidable.

Akkarin's mood did not improve when his informants informed him two hours after dinner that they had located another spy. He supposed he should be thankful he would have a chance to catch this one before he had a chance to strengthen himself, but in truth, Akkarin was getting tired of fighting and tired of hiding and simply tired. He remembered hearing from the previous Administrator about the High Lord's duties when he first took the position, and he wondered now what it would be like if his only concerns were maintaining the Guild's relationship with the King and helping to guide the Guild through major disputes.

Akkarin shook those thoughts to the back of his mind, for they were getting him nowhere. He had vowed to protect the Guild and Kyralia from what were, by and large, his own mistakes, and he intended to keep that promise. Striding out of his study, he made his way to the underground room where Takan had already readied the clothes he wore on his excursions to the Slums. He changed quickly, making his way though the familiar tunnels beneath the Guild to where his guide was waiting. The boy led him on a winding journey before finally exiting in a section of the Slums where Akkarin had never been before—or at least, he did not think he had been before. In truth, much of the Slums began to look similar after awhile, so he could not be certain.

Akkarin gave a nod of thanks to his guide as the boy pointed out a dingy warehouse, and he started toward the building, keeping to the shadows. As he moved, Akkarin cast out his senses, frowning when he did not sense another magician nearby. He stopped outside the warehouse, listening, but he heard no sounds from inside. His frown deepened as he stepped into the building, keeping his back to the wall and an invisible shield around his body. He still sensed no other magical presence.

As he stepped into the next room, he saw a shape on the floor that looked like a human. Carefully, he approached, wary of traps. As he reached the person, however, he realized he need not have worried—whoever it was was certainly dead. Even in the dim light of the moon filtering through some broken windows, he could see no telltale expansion of the chest, and the eyes were wide and unseeing. He knelt beside the person—a woman, he could see that now—and his breath caught in his throat. With her wavy dark hair, her petite figure, and her delicate features, she could be a sister to his novice. In fact, she could be a twin. For one heart-stopping moment, the face on the body seemed to be that of Sonea. It seemed so realistic that Akkarin actually reeled back in shock before the more logical part of his mind forced him to take a second look. The woman in front of him certainly bore a strong resemblance to his novice, but a closer inspection showed some key differences. Her hair was shorter, for one—Sonea had been growing hers out since joining the Guild. And the dead woman's cheekbones were higher. Plus the woman in front of him was wearing rags, not robes.

Akkarin took a moment to calm himself before pushing himself to his feet. He created a weak globelight and used it to check all nooks and crannies in the warehouse, but he did not find a sign of anyone else—an outcome he had expected since seeing the dead woman. The slave had obviously done his work and gone. Akkarin cursed under his breath, for it would make the slave that much harder to fight. Still, there was nothing more he could do at the moment. Exiting the warehouse, he signaled to his guide and told him to let his boss know they would need to do some clean-up in the warehouse and keep searching. The boy nodded before leading him back into the tunnels. They parted ways under the University, and Akkarin continued to his underground room where he found Takan waiting for him. "No fighting today, Master?" his loyal servant asked.

"Unfortunately not. We just missed him."

"I am sure your contacts will locate him again soon." Akkarin nodded a bit absent-mindedly. Takan watched him carefully, seeming to realize that there was more to the story. "Something else is bothering you."

Akkarin shook the thoughts from his head. "Just a passing fancy." Takan waited expectantly, and Akkarin knew the servant would not let him rest until he told more information. "The person the slave killed, she. . . reminded me of someone." Involuntarily, Akkarin's eyes flicked upwards.

Takan nodded knowingly. "You worry about her. It's only natural."

Akkarin gave a low growl of frustration. "I can't worry about only her though. Not with what is at stake."

"I still believe you should take her into your confidence, Master. Forewarned is forearmed."

"In this case, that arming could be against me."

"I think you underestimate her."

"Hmm." Akkarin considered Takan's words as he stared at the staircase leading up to the main part of the Residence. In truth, he was beginning to agree with Takan that he had underestimated the brave, resilient girl from the Slums and had since the beginning. But would she accept his reasons for his actions or would she condemn him further? And once she knew them, would she take action against him? Questions warred in Akkarin's head, but Takan, who knew him well, remained silent, giving him time to work through his thoughts. Eventually, Akkarin decided that telling her his reasons would likely not worsen her opinion of him and could even better it. The worst outcome would likely be that nothing changed. If he were to tell her, though, he knew he needed to do so slowly. As much as possible, he wanted to let her come to her own conclusions—if there was one thing he had learned from his forced mind read and having her living with him, it was that she was fiercely independent and not afraid to form her own opinions, even when they ran counter to those of everyone else around her. Perhaps he could use those traits.

Akkarin shook the thoughts from his head, knowing he was getting ahead of himself. She would be studying architecture soon, he knew, so he would use the opportunity to give her Lord Corin's diary. Once he saw her reaction to that, he could determine his next move. He would take his time. His habit of rushing into things without thinking was what had forced him into the disastrous situation in which he found himself years ago, and he had learned from his mistakes. He was not a reckless youth anymore. This was important—he would take the time to do it right.

But what if you don't have that time? His internal voice mocked. Try as he might, Akkarin could not come up with a satisfactory answer to that.

A/N: I cannot remember if the books ever mention if Akkarin's ability to read surface thoughts requires contact or not-I know a Truth Read does. Looking back over earlier chapters, however, I have already indicated he does not need to touch someone to read surface thoughts, so I stuck with that since it worked well for this chapter.