The summons arrived with breakfast.
Mira brought it on a small silver tray, as though the folded paper were itself a delicacy — which, Elspeth supposed, in its way it was. She read it while her porridge went cold. A single sentence in a hand she did not recognize but could guess: *Her Grace requests the attendance of Lady Elspeth of Wren at the third hour past midday. The Queen's solar. Come alone.*
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