Stricken, Seregil sank back on the bed and rested his face in his hands. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I knew I’d outlive her, but she was one of my first friends when I came into society. She helped me so much—”

Alec went to him and put an arm around him as Seregil drew in a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry. I know she was more than a friend. It sounds like she went peacefully, at least.”

Seregil sighed. “Looks like we’ll be disappointing Malthus tonight. We’d better go give Thero the news.”

“What’s wrong?” the wizard asked the moment he laid eyes on them.

Seregil showed him the letter.

“May Astellus carry her gently. Seregil, I’m so sorry. She was a delightful lady.”

“The wake begins tomorrow morning. I’ll send a note to Malthus,” said Alec, taking charge.

“Thank you, talí.”

Atre was dressing to go out the following morning when Brader came in without knocking.

“What are you doing up here?” he demanded. “The others are already at the theater, waiting for rehearsal.”

“I’m afraid the theater will be dark tonight, and a few more besides,” said Atre, still dressing in front of the mirror on the wall. “Haven’t you heard? Lady Kylith passed away. I’m going to pay the respects of the company.”

Brader stared at him a moment, then grabbed him by the front of his fine linen shirt and slammed him against the wall hard enough to set the mirror swinging on its nail. “Not again!”

Atre grinned. “What makes you think—?”

Brader pulled his fist back, trembling with anger. “I can see it on you! I can see it in your eyes. You swore to me!”

Atre ignored the imminent threat to his face. “She was old, cousin. Old people die. I understand that it was very peaceful. What do you care anyway? She’d already cut us off. What use was she anymore?”

“We’re safe here, Atre! Or we were. You’re taking too many anyway, and now?” He turned away with a look of disgust. “You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like with the good ones, cousin. How you relished them. You’ve been living on crumbs for too long. I have another one with me, right over there. Seems old Marquis Yarin took sick suddenly at his summer estate last week. Such a pity. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t crave it as much as I do.”

“Brader, did you find him?” Merina called. They could hear her coming up the stairs.

Atre clucked his tongue. “Dear me, cousin, what will you tell her this time? Or shall I bring her into our little secret?”

Brader closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Damn you.”

“Brader, is that you?” Merina called from just outside.