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“I remember that bench.”

She and Gerek had met there by chance, on his first outing into the city. From later conversations, she knew that day marked the beginning of another kind of connection between Gerek and Lord Kosenmark.

Another connection, another clue to the day’s strange beginning. It had to do with Lord Kosenmark, with the politics of Veraene, and certain other secret doings of that man, which Kathe was not supposed to know about.

“What is it?” she asked softly. “What has he done now?”

Gerek bowed his head. He was weeping, Kathe saw. It took all her strength to keep herself from reaching out to embrace him. It took all her strength not to ride after Lord Raul Kosenmark to demand an accounting for his behavior.

Later, she thought. Later I shall confront him and all the rest.

Gerek swiped a hand over his face. “He is gone. Gone to Duenne. He s-s-s-says … Toc damn him, i-ignorance is n-not a shield. No-no matter how much he wishes it were.” He swiveled around to face Kathe. His eyes were wet, his glare as fierce as she had ever seen before.

“He goes to argue with the king. He…” He drew another, rattling breath. “He gave us the house. Gave Lord Gerek Haszler the house. You are to have a great sum of money, and more to run the house until … until I-I-I-I don’t know what.”

He named the sums, which made Kathe’s breath go still with astonishment. The house, a treasure by itself. The sum for its expenses an extravagant amount, enough to keep the house running with all its staff for at least six months. And then for her—with that much money she could set up her own household. It was a treasure, one last gift, from a man she thought impervious to gratitude.

Gerek had bowed down until his forehead touched the ground. He was weeping still, as if a dear friend had suddenly died.

And perhaps he had, Kathe thought. She reached out and laid a hand on Gerek’s shoulder. “Is the house yours, then?”

“Yes, I-I s-said—”

“Can you do whatever you like?”

He nodded, an angry, frightened nod.

“Well, then,” she said. “You could sell the cursed thing. We—or you—could go to Valentain. Or wherever you liked. There’s nothing binding you to Tiralien.”

You could be free of Lord Markus Khandarr and the rest of the shadow court.

Quite possibly, he had understood the question behind the questions, because he sighed. When he straightened up, she saw his lips were curled into a bitter smile. “S-so I might. And you might s-study under the duke’s chief cook.”

She smiled, though her lips trembled. “The great Adona Pavlakakis from Andelizien. My mother told me about her. It’s true I would learn a great deal about fine cookery, but only if I could remain meek and respectful.”

He laughed weakly, shook his head.

Kathe leaned forward and gathered his hands in hers. “Let me tell you my thoughts. You might disagree. Or not. But listen. I think…” She drew a long breath, and another. Why was this so difficult to say?

Because I love him. Because he might …

She pressed onward, in spite of those thoughts.

“I believe you should return to your father’s house. Just for a few weeks,” she added, before Gerek could protest. “There you could formally and openly receive Lord Kosenmark’s letter. You can refuse it or not as you like. But you might as well take the gift. You can always sell the house later, after we…”

After they married. If he still wanted that.

“Do you think that a good i-i-i-dea?” Gerek asked.

That he stuttered so, to her, was a measure of his distress. That she did not attempt to comfort him, a measure of hers.

“I want you to do what you like,” she said, softly and fervently. “If you would rather stay at home with your family, then do that. If you would rather—”

“No, I—” He bit his lips. Made a visible effort to swallow. “You are my wife, as long as you wish. I love you, Kathe.”

It was as though a great hand had loosed its grip around her. She breathed and managed a smile. “Well then. Let us go back to the house and make our plans.”

They helped each other to stand, but when Kathe indicated the path toward the house, Gerek hesitated. “There is another s-s-secret of his that I-I kept from you.”

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