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Severin walked over to my chessboard and toyed with one of the pieces, not meeting my eye. “I have already received a knock on my door from Lady Argent asking me for details. She’s heard it from her lady's maid that the new nanny is the witch from the harbor, and that she’s anything but noble.”

“What does that matter?” I asked. “No noblewoman has been able to handle him. She can.”

My nephew sighed, then gently set the piece back down. “I do not wish to anger you, Your Grace. I know you have a vested interest in finding the right nanny, but are you sure there is no other reason you wish to involve her in your household?”

I thought of what I’d done the second I’d closed the door to my room and the journal concealed inside the desk. Guilt festered inside of me, but I refused to let it show.

“What other reason could I have?”

“Can I speak plainly without you throttling me?”

“Speak. And I’ll decide once it’s been said.”

He held his tongue for a moment, but then decided whatever he wanted to say was worth the risk. “I’m glad to see you with a purpose again, but please, do not let her be your purpose.” A rare smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “We have plenty of consorts on staff.”

“I do not need a consort. I needed a nanny. Now I have one.”

Severin folded his arms across his chest and canted his head to the side. “Have you considered how this looks? You pulled her from the harbor, and now she comes to work in your household?”

I understood what my nephew was trying to say, even if I didn’t like it. Gossip couldn’t be stopped. It was part of life at court. Instead of fighting it, I’d learned long ago to mold it into the shape I wanted, which was easy if you were smart enough to plant the right seeds.

“Tell the courtiers that she appeared in the harbor the night of Maris’s festival, and under the first documented sighting of Maris’s star. Clearly, my prayers have been answered, and the gods have delivered the right person to care for the heir to Valemer.”

Severin raised a brow. He wasn’t a particularly devout man himself. I often joked that Severin prayed to his ledgers. For when they were in balance, all was well. But the people of Valemer were rather fond of the lost goddesses, and if I was being honest, so was I.

“The courtiers and your council will want to know who this goddess-sent woman is and where she’s from.”

I tapped the parchment in front of me. “I’m writing to the High Prince and asking him to grant her a courtesy title. Something no one will dare question.”

Severin’s jaw dropped. “Uncle, I’ve worked for you for decades and have never been bestowed such an honor.”

I brushed his comment off. “You are the Earl of Blackbay. What other title do you desire?”

“I don’t bring it up because of pride,” he shot back.

“Good, because we are vampires. We don't serve to accumulate titles. You’re already rich beyond imagination. Isn’t that enough?”

He took a step closer to my desk. “I believe writing to Uncle Marius is a step too far in a direction you do not want to go. She isn’t your lady wife reincarnated. She is just a witch. One you hardly know.”

I realized I was treating her as if she were to become my wife, not my employee, and that was a dangerous path. But all the same, I had to do something for her.

“Fine. I’ll give her a household title. Lady Companion of the Valemer household, assigned to Master Adrien.”

He inclined a brow. “And what will they call this Lady Companion?”

A name. I needed a family name. I spun in my chair, grabbed a scroll with a detailed map of the western reaches, and unrolled it on my desk. Listed on the map were all the covens in Bastien’s territory.

Then I remembered I’d received a letter from my brother. I gestured to my chessboard. “Hand me that letter from Roselyn.”

My nephew passed me the thick envelope, and with great trepidation, I broke my brother’s black seal and pulled the letter free. Bastien’s sharp, neat writing greeted me. As I read the words and heard the news, the cold chill of the western reaches swept over me.

What he described was impossible.

Glancing back at the map, I found the area labeled Devonelle, and the pieces slid into place. A powerful witch, desperate to leave her family name behind, pursued by The Devouring.

Suddenly, I knew who Cora was.

She was a Kemp.