"If everyone who compromised with Galdran out of fear, or greed, or even indifference, were to be penalized," Shevraeth went on, "Athanarel would soon be empty and a lot of people sent home with little to do but use their wealth and power toward recovering their lost prestige." "More war," I said, and thinking again of my secret cause, I ventured a question. "Do you agree with Mistress Ynizang's writings about the troubles overseas and how they could have been avoided?" Shevraeth nodded, turning to me. "That's an excellent book--one of the first my parents put into my hands when it became apparent I was serious about entering their plans." "What's this? Who?" Bran asked, looking from one of us to the other. Shevraeth said, "She is a historian of great repute in the Empress's Court, and I believe what she says about letting social custom and the human habit of inertia bridge an old regime to a new, when there is no active evil remaining." "Sounds dull as a hibernating snake. Saving your grace." Bran saluted the Marquis with his glass, then said, "Tell my sister about the army." Shevraeth saluted my brother with his own glass and a slightly mocking smile. "To resume: Dispersal and reassignment. I have relied heavily upon certain officers whom I have come to trust--" "Which is why you were up here against us last winter, eh?" Bran asked, one brow cocked up. "Scouting out the good ones?" Old anger stirred deep inside me as I remembered the common talk from a year ago, about Shevraeth's very public wager with the Duke of Savona about how soon he could thoroughly squelch the rustic Tlanth's--meaning Branaric and me. Fighting down my emotions, I realized that yet again I had been misled by surface events--and again I had misjudged Shevraeth's true motives."