“Yes, a petitioner,” the treasurer said, “but not for you.”
“Then why bother me?” Darna said.
“He seeks Myril.”
Darna pinned her robe back on, taking her time about it while the treasurer fidgeted.
“I want you to tell her.”
“Me?” Darna said. “Don’t they know that they’re not supposed to ask for us by name?”
The treasurer waved that comment away. Everyone knew that petitioners would call whomever they chose, whether it was technically correct or not. Petitioners probably didn’t even know that that rule existed, that they weren’t supposed to choose one priestess over another.
“Is it the one from Midsummer?” Darna asked.
The treasurer nodded. She didn’t even have the nerve to talk to Myril herself, or maybe it was the ambassadress she feared.
“I’ll tell her,” Darna agreed, “but I won
