“This way.” She gave Eider a shove and she nearly fell over her own coat-tails. “If it please you.” Another shove as she found her feet and she sprawled through the doorway on her face. Vitari dragged her up by one arm and Monza followed them slowly into the room beyond, jaw clenched tight.

Like her jaw, the room had seen better days. The crumbling plaster was stained with black mould, bubbling up with damp, the stale air smelled of rot and onions. Day leaned back in one corner, a carefree smile on her face as she buffed a plum the colour of a fresh bruise against her sleeve. She offered it to Eider.

“Plum?”

“What? No!”

“Suit yourself. They’re good though.”

“Sit.” Vitari shoved Eider into the rickety chair that was the only furniture. Usually a good thing, getting the only seat. But not now. “They say history moves in circles but who’d ever have thought we’d meet like this again? It’s enough to bring tears to our eyes, isn’t it? Yours, anyway.”

Carlot dan Eider didn’t look like crying any time soon, though. She sat upright, hands crossed in her lap. Surprising composure, under the circumstances. Dignity, almost. She was past the first flush of youth, but a most striking woman still, and everything carefully plucked, painted and powdered to make the best show of it. A necklace of red stones flashed around her throat, gold glittered on her long fingers. She looked more like a countess than a mistress, as out of place in the rotting room as a diamond ring in a rubbish heap.

Vitari prowled slowly around the chair, leaning down to hiss in her ear. “You’re looking well. Always did know how to land on your feet. Quite the tumble, though, isn’t it? From head of the Guild of Spicers to Prince Ario’s whore?”

Eider didn’t even flinch. “It’s a living. What do you want?”

“Just to talk.” Vitari’s voice purred low and husky as a lover’s. “Unless we don’t get the answers we want. Then I’ll have to hurt you.”

“No doubt you’ll enjoy that.”

“It’s a living.” She punched Ario’s mistress suddenly in the ribs, hard enough to twist her in the chair. She doubled up, gasping, and Vitari leaned over her, bringing her fist up again. “Another?”

“No!” Eider held her hand up, teeth bared, eyes flickering round the room then back to Vitari. “No… ah… I’ll be helpful. Just… just tell me what you need to know.”

“Why are you down here, ahead of your lover?”

“To make arrangements for the ball. Costumes, masks, all kinds of—”

Vitari’s fist thumped into her side in just the same spot, harder than the first time, the sharp thud echoing off the damp walls. Eider whimpered, arms wrapped around herself, took a shuddering breath then coughed it out, face twisted with pain. Vitari leaned down over her like a black spider over a bound-up fly. “I’m losing patience. Why are you here?”

“Ario’s putting on… another kind of celebration… afterwards. For his brother. For his brother’s birthday.”