Her head was splitting. She’d no wish to talk to him, let alone argue. But it’s at times like those people bite each other hardest. “What’s eating at you?” she snapped, knowing full well already and not wanting to hear about it either.

“What d’you think?”

“You know what, I’ve my own problems.”

“You leaving me, is what!”

She’d have jumped at the chance. “Leaving you?”

“Tonight! Down with the shit while you sat up there lording it with the Duke of Delay!”

“You think I was in charge of the fucking seating?” she sneered at him. “He put me there to make him look good, is all.”

There was a pause. He turned his head away from her, shoulders hunching. “Well. I guess looking good ain’t something I can help with these days.”

She twitched—awkward, annoyed. “Rogont can help me. That’s all. Foscar’s out there, with Orso’s army. Foscar’s out there…” And he had to die, whatever the costs.

“Vengeance, eh?”

“They killed my brother. I shouldn’t have to explain it to you. You know how I feel.”

“No. I don’t.”

She frowned. “What about your brother? Thought you said the Bloody-Nine killed him? I thought—”

“I hated my fucking brother. Folk called him Skarling reborn, but the man was a bastard. He’d show me how to climb trees, and fish, nick me under the chin and laugh when our father was there. When he was gone, he used to kick me ’til I couldn’t breathe. He said I’d killed our mother. All I did was be born.” His voice was hollow, no anger left in it. “When I heard he was dead, I wanted to laugh, but I cried instead because everyone else was. I swore vengeance on his killer and all the rest ’cause, well, there’s a form to be followed, ain’t there? Wouldn’t want to fall short. But when I heard the Bloody-Nine nailed my bastard of a brother’s head up, I didn’t know whether I hated the man for doing it, or hated that he’d robbed me o’ the chance, or wanted to kiss him for the favour like you’d kiss… a brother, I guess…”

For a moment she was about to get up, go to him, put her hand on his shoulder. Then his one eye moved towards her, cold and narrow. “But you’d know all about that, I reckon. Kissing your brother.”

The blood pounded suddenly behind her eyes, worse than ever. “What my brother was to me is my fucking business!” She realised she was stabbing at him with the knife, tossed it away across the table. “I’m not in the habit of explaining myself. I don’t plan to start with the men I hire!”

“That’s what I am to you, is it?”

“What else would you be?”

“After what I’ve done for you? After what I’ve lost?”

She flinched, hands trembling worse than ever. “Well paid, aren’t you?”

“Paid?” He leaned towards her, pointing at his face. “How much is my eye worth, you evil cunt?”