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“A matter of state. You will see.”

They had reached the doors to the innermost chamber. Khandarr ushered Galt inside. He followed and quickly locked the door once again with magic.

He knew the moment when Galt saw the king’s body. Galt hissed and whirled around. “The king…”

“Murdered. Assassinated,” Khandarr said. He spoke slowly, enunciating each word with painful clarity. “Three men. They used magic and bribes. Came after I left the king. I examined the windows. Found the traces of their signatures. Duke Kosenmark hired them. He knew the king intended to execute his son.”

“Then we must call the guards,” Galt said. “We must—”

He stopped and stared wide-eyed at Khandarr.

/> “I believe I understand the situation,” he said slowly.

Khandarr nodded. “I told you. I want your allegiance. You agreed. Now to prove your vow. Take this message to Baron Quint. He will arrest the duke and his family. You. Lead another squad to Lord Raul Kosenmark’s cell. Execute the man. Bring his head to me. There is one thing…” He paused to recover his breath and to hold Galt’s gaze with his own. “When the council convenes, you must confess. You worked for Duke Kosenmark. You took a bribe. You found those men. Give … whatever reason you like. I will protect you. Is that enough?”

Galt’s eyes narrowed. He looked a true merchant, Khandarr thought, ready to bargain. Then came a strange light smile, almost joyous, except the mage could not picture any joy in this man, except that which caused misery for others.

“I will do it,” Galt said. “On one condition. Give me the girl.”

“Done.”

Khandarr handed over three folded papers to Galt. One was for Quint, he said. One was the formal order of execution, which Galt must present to the guards and to the prison officer on watch. The last was for Khandarr’s own steward. “He will take care of the rest.”

* * *

MUCH EARLIER, NADINE had begged off regular duty for the evening. Between Lady Heloïse and her two wicked sisters, she could not sit, never mind think of entertaining one of the guards, or those minor nobles who infested the palace. The steward in charge of the courtesans accepted her excuses more easily than expected, though to be sure, none of the nobles had sent for a woman or man the entire day. After the day’s trial session, and the evidence produced by Duke Kosenmark for his son’s innocence, they were all closeted with each other discussing politics.

Freed from her duties, Nadine collected a carafe of cold water and a bag of sausages, and settled herself in a useful niche, in a gallery overlooking Lord Markus Khandarr’s suite of rooms. She waited patiently through the hours, taking note of the mage councillor’s visitors. One captain of the evening guard. A woman in a silken jacket and trousers, with the look of the western provinces about her. A string of very anonymous men and women that Nadine immediately classified as informers.

But no sign of that vermin, Khandarr.

She was tempted to track him down, even if that meant a visit to the royal chambers. No. Khandarr might be closeted with the king, but she had the sense that she would lose all if she tried to chase the man through this maze of a palace.

Even so, if he does not return soon, I shall have to urinate on his doorstep.

“Nadine, my love.”

It was the senior guard captain. She thought the woman had departed hours ago.

Nadine smiled and glanced upward through her eyelashes. “Katja. Captain.”

“Watching our friend?” the captain said. She came originally from one of the southern provinces, dark and with thick springy hair pulled back into tight braids. On an ordinary day, Nadine would have found her irresistible. But since Heloïse …

Katja watched her closely, and so she smiled again, more lazily than before. “He fascinates me, my dear captain. So much influence. So much poison concentrated in a single broken body. When does your watch end?”

“In three hours. I think I shall want attention. Your attention.”

Nadine laughed. She drew the captain into a kiss, which she made slow and deep and languorous. “Would you like some sausage?” she whispered into Katja’s ear. “Or do you prefer ripe red cherries? I could peel each one for you, slowly and carefully, until nothing hides the fruit from view. Then I would pop it into your mouth. Oh, yes. That is very nice. Dear, sweet, delectable captain.”

The captain drew back, breathless from Nadine’s attention. “He is not there. He is with the king,” she said. “Three hours. Yes?”

“Three hours,” Nadine said. “Call for me in the courtesan wing.”

Alone she returned to her watch. She considered her promise to Katja Keller, given so easily and meaning nothing. She cast her memory farther back, through her years as a courtesan in Raul Kosenmark’s pleasure house, soft and delightful, despite the knife edge of danger that even the dimmest member of that household could not ignore.

I could have left them all, Kathe and Ilse and the others. I could have gone back to my family in the hills and led a peaceful life.

She laughed, silently, at such a picture.

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