Every morning when the first light crept into the cell and Shivers woke, he wondered if that would be the morning they’d hang him.

Sometimes he wished he hadn’t turned on Monza. But only because it had come out the way it had. Not because he regretted any part of what he’d done. Probably his father wouldn’t have approved of it. Probably his brother would’ve sneered and said he expected no better. No doubt Rudd Threetrees would’ve shook his head, and said justice would come for it. But Threetrees was dead, and justice with him. Shivers’ brother had been a bastard with a hero’s face, and his sneers meant nothing no more. And his father had gone back to the mud and left him to work out his own way of doing things. So much for the good men, and the right thing too.

From time to time he wondered whether Carlot dan Eider got away from the mess his failure must’ve left her in, or whether the Cripple caught up with her. He wondered whether Monza got to kill Orso, and whether it had been all she hoped for. He wondered who that bastard had been who came out of nowhere and knocked him across the hall. Didn’t seem likely he’d ever find out the answers now. But that’s how life is. You don’t always get all the answers.

He was up at the window when he heard keys rattling down the corridor, and he almost smiled at the relief of knowing it was time. He hopped down from his pallet, right leg still stiff where Friendly had stuck his knife in it, stood up tall and faced the metal gate.

He hadn’t thought she’d come herself, but he was glad she had. Glad for the chance to look her in the eye one more time, even if they had the jailer and a half-dozen guards for company. She looked well, no doubt of that, not so gaunt as she used to, nor so hard. Clean, smooth, sleek and rich. Like royalty. Hard to believe she ever had aught to do with him.

“Well, look at you,” he said. “Grand Duchess Monzcarro. How the hell did you come out o’ this mess so fine?”

“Luck.”

“There you go. Never had much myself.” The jailer unlocked the gate and pushed it squealing open. Two of the guards came in, snapped manacles shut round Shivers’ wrists. He didn’t see much purpose in making a fight of it. Would’ve been just an embarrassment all round. They marched him out into the corridor to face her.

“Quite the trip we’ve been on, ain’t it, Monza, you and I?”

“Quite the trip,” she said. “You lost yourself, Shivers.”

“No. I found myself. You going to hang me now?” He didn’t feel much joy at the thought, but not much sorrow either. Better’n rotting in that cell, he reckoned.

She watched him for a long moment. Blue eyes, and cold. Looked at him like she did the first time they met. Like nothing he could do would surprise her. “No.”