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“You expected Lord Kosenmark.”
Ilse spun around, the sword drawn, then checked herself with a smothered cry.
Kathe Raendl came forward into the light. She was dressed in a dark blue skirt and smock. Her hair was swept back into a thick braid, wound around her head. She looked just as Ilse remembered, when they had last walked together to the market.
It took her several moments before she could speak.
“I did expect Raul. What is wrong?”
“Everything,” Kathe said in a low voice. “Lord Kosenmark left us, left Tiralien the month before last. Word came back four weeks ago the king arrested him.”
Arrested. Ilse closed her eyes. She barely managed to slide her sword into its sheath without dropping it. Gone to Duenne to confront the king. About what? Oh, yes. Surely he had heard from his remaining agents about Dzavek’s death.
I was too slow. I ought to have dared Anderswar a second time, back in Taboresk.
She heard Kathe circle around her in slow deliberate steps. Ilse opened her eyes and regarded her old friend. Kathe stared back. Her gaze was cold and unforgiving. Her voice, when she spoke, was laced with bitterness.
“You lied to me,” she said. “You and Lord Kosenmark both.”
“We did. We had good reason—”
“You lied. And your beloved abandoned us with little more than a warning, and that came almost too late. Gerek…” Kathe pressed her hand to her throat. “Do you know,” she said, her voice edging higher. “Do you know how Markus Khandarr beat my husband? Tortured him? All because he believed your Lord Kosenmark a traitor and wanted Gerek to betray the man. Even after he returned, Gerek did not dare to go beyond the grounds because he knew Lord Khandarr’s agents watched the house. When the rider came with news the king had arrested Lord Kosenmark, I had to bury my husband in a barrel of garbage so he could escape the house and return to his family. So he could pretend he never met such a man as Lord Kosenmark. I wish—”
She broke off and pressed both hands over her eyes.
Ilse could not speak for a moment. “Kathe, I am sorry.”
“Sorry?” Kathe gave a smothered laugh. “Oh, yes. You are sorry. But would you do the same again?”
No more secrets, Ilse thought. Only the truth, no matter how painful.
“I would,” she said. “I would have a choice, but I would choose the same again.”
Kathe uncovered her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “For an honor higher than the king’s,” she said softly. “For Veraene. Yes, I understand. I should. I lived in Duenne’s Court and Lord Kosenmark’s house.”
There was a strange finality to her words.
Ilse had to make one last effort. “Are you safe?”
Kathe’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Are you safe?” Ilse repeated. “You and your mother, Mistress Denk, Nadine and Josef, and everyone else. Are you safe?”
Kathe hesitated a long moment, as though she had not expected such a question. “We are,” she said at last. “Gerek is with his family. I had word he arrived safely, though I cannot tell what might happen if Lord Khandarr decides to investigate. Lord and Lady Iani have vanished. I do not know where. Many of the guards went to Valentain. The rest of us took refuge with Lord Vieth. Except for Nadine. She left the same day and did not tell anyone.”
Ilse nodded slowly. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
She turned back toward the bookseller’s front room, but paused at the light tread of footsteps hurrying after her. A hand brushed against hers—a gentle gesture, its eloquence unspoken.
* * *
MANN CONCLUDED NEGOTIATIONS and a purchase from the bookseller. As he and Ilse mounted their horses, he asked, “What is wrong? You do not have the air of someone reunited with their beloved.”
“He is gone,” she said softly. “He went to Duenne.”
Mann said nothing for several moments. “He encountered difficulties, then.”
She nodded. No need to mention the king or Markus Khandarr.
