Ao Shun’s eyes flared red at the word unjust and the sky outside darkened in response, as gathering clouds hid the sun. ‘Your words are heard,’ he said. ‘Your perspective is natural, as one from the Library.’

Irene felt the pressure of his displeasure, as it lay dangerously heavy in the air, and had to force herself to continue. ‘Of course, your majesty,’ she said, ‘I am loyal to the Library. And, as such, I can and must speak for its interests. But I would also say that the Fae have suffered a severe setback, proving that it’s unwise to kidnap any dragon, let alone one of your royal bloodline. Please consider this to be sufficient, your majesty.’

Ao Shun turned his head slightly, looking away from her. ‘You have done your duty to my nephew as your student,’ he said. ‘Your responsibilities in this matter are ended. There is no need for you to take further action.’

Irene could see Kai looking at her, with a please-please-shut-up-now expression on his face. On her other side, Vale was impassive. ‘I have fulfilled my duty to my student,’ she said. ‘I also have a duty to the Library, and to the people in the worlds that it touches.’

‘And what of you, my nephew?’ Ao Shun’s voice took on a distinct edge as he addressed Kai. The room was suddenly full of thick tension - it pressed against Irene, and she could see that Vale was having to square his shoulders to stand firm against it. Thunder shuddered in the air outside. ‘Have you any thoughts on this matter?’

Kai’s throat worked as he swallowed. ‘My lord uncle,’ he faltered. Then his voice grew stronger. ‘My teacher speaks truly. It would be unjust for harm to come to humans who have had no involvement in these hostilities. Those Fae who were responsible have paid for their actions. Time will prove the rightness of our way and the weakness of theirs. If there must be retribution, then blame me for my folly in allowing myself to be captured.’

‘Your folly, or your teacher’s carelessness,’ said Ao Shun, and the air trembled slightly at his words.

‘I will answer for any fault of mine,’ Irene said firmly. The taste of fear was sour in her mouth.

‘Surely his friends must also take some of the blame, your majesty,’ Vale said. ‘Those like me, for instance.’

Ao Shun looked between the three of them. Scale-patterns were showing across the skin of his cheeks and hands, and his nails were longer and darker than they had been a moment ago. Rain broke against the window with a slap of wind.

There was a knock at the door.

Li Ming moved to answer it. ‘I’m afraid you have the wrong room—’ he began.

‘I don’t think so.’ It was Coppelia’s voice. Coppelia, here. Irene felt as if she could suddenly draw a breath. ‘My name is Coppelia, and I am an elder of the Library. I request audience with his majesty the King of the Northern Ocean.’

‘She may enter,’ Ao Shun said, before Li Ming could even turn to consult him. ‘I welcome the advice of an elder of the Library.’

Coppelia stepped into the room, neatly dressed in a dark velvet gown and cape suitable for greeting royalty, the wood of her hand hidden by her gloves. And though she was rigidly straight-backed, she leaned on a silver-topped cane as she walked. Her arthritis is playing up again. Inside the Library, she was a teacher and friend. Outside the Library, it was harder to forget that Coppelia was an extremely old woman, who’d accumulated years of injuries as a Librarian in the field.

‘Your majesty.’ She gave Ao Shun a half-bow, having to support herself on her cane. ‘Please forgive my lack of formality. I’d have curtseyed properly, if I were as young as these children.’

‘No forgiveness is necessary,’ Ao Shun said. The rain outside was slacking off. ‘Your presence is most welcome. Will you be seated?’

He’s treating her as a respected ambassador, so definitely a step above me, Irene decided. But thank god that Coppelia showed up.

‘I’m only here briefly, your majesty,’ Coppelia said. ‘I’ve come to collect my colleague to answer a formal inquiry. I hope that won’t be inconvenient?’

Irene felt the colour drain from her cheeks. So she had to face a penalty for what she’d done. She tried to convince herself that she’d expected it all along, but it rang hollow. She wasn’t ready at all.

‘I have no reason to complain about her actions,’ Ao Shun said. ‘She has acted properly throughout, and I owe her my gratitude for what she has done.’

‘Madame Coppelia, you can’t do this!’ Kai had his jaw set, and the metaphorical bit between his teeth. ‘Irene did everything she could to get me out of there. It wasn’t her fault that I was kidnapped. If anyone should be blamed for this, it’s me.’

‘Kai.’ Ao Shun slapped his open palm on the arm of his chair. ‘Silence!’ But he seemed more astonished than angry that Kai should actually have had the nerve to speak. ‘If this is an internal matter, then it is not your place to interfere.’

‘I’m still an apprentice to the Library,’ Kai said, his skin starting to take on a draconic cast too. ‘Unless and until I am removed from that position, which was agreed by my father himself …’ He let it trail off meaningfully.

Irene tried to interpret the sudden look of baffled frustration on Ao Shun’s face. Kai’s father was his older brother. In terms of the draconic respect for hierarchy that she’d seen, this suggested that Ao Shun couldn’t contradict his orders. The situation was rapidly degenerating into a no-win one.