GRACE’S POV

At the palace of Aonite, Grace was sipping a scotch spiced with honey and herbs on the rocks. It was her second drink. Okay, her third. She sat in the sofa chair of a lobby sitting room, a lap desk resting on her legs, holding her computer, books, folders, and notebook. Her finger clinked the tip of the glass.

She looked out the window—at the pelting rain and wind and lightning—but was not worried about the storm. Grace knew her godchild could ...