“Let me know when you find the right shepherd.”

“Oh, I already have. Someone of skill, cunning, matchless resilience and fearsome reputation. Someone loved in Talins far more than Orso himself. Someone he tried to kill, in fact… for stealing his throne…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t want his throne then. I don’t want it now.”

“But since it is there for the taking… what comes once you have your revenge? You deserve to be remembered. You deserve to shape the age.” Benna would have said so, and Monza had to admit that part of her was enjoying the flattery. Enjoying being so close to power again. She’d been used to both, and it had been a long time since she’d had a taste of either. “Besides, what better revenge could you have than making Orso’s greatest fear come to pass?” That struck a fine note with her, and Rogont gave her a sly grin to show he knew it. “Let me be honest. I need you.”

Let me be honest. I need you.” That rested easily on Shivers’ pride, and she gave him a sly smile to show she knew it. “I scarcely have a friend left in all the wide Circle of the World.”

“Seems you’ve a knack for making new ones.”

“It’s harder than you’d think. To be always the outsider.” He didn’t need to be told that after the few months he’d had. She didn’t lie, from what he could tell, just led the truth by the nose whichever way it suited her. “And sometimes it can be hard to tell your friends from your enemies.”

“True enough.” He didn’t need to be told that either.

“I daresay where you come from loyalty is considered a noble quality. Down here in Styria, a man has to bend with the wind.” Hard to believe anyone who smiled so sweetly could have anything dark in mind. But everything was dark to him now. Everything had a knife hidden in it. “Your friends and mine General Murcatto and Grand Duke Rogont, for example.” Carlot’s two eyes drifted up to his one. “I wonder what they’re about, right now?”

“Fucking!” he barked at her, the fury boiling out of him so sharp she flinched away, like she was expecting him to smash her head into the wall. Maybe he nearly did. That or smash his own. But her face soon smoothed out and she smiled some more, like murderous rage was her favourite quality in a man.

“The Snake of Talins and the Worm of Ospria, all stickily entwined together. Well matched, that treacherous pair. Styria’s greatest liar and Styria’s greatest murderer.” She gently traced the scar on his chest with one fingertip. “What comes once she has her revenge? Once Rogont has raised her up and dangled her like a child’s toy for the people of Talins to stare at? Will you have a place when the Years of Blood are finally ended? When the war is over?”