Lord Philippos’s supporters, on the opposite side of the gallery from Nilus’s faction, shook their fists and cried out. ‘Sit down!’ an elderly consul shouted. ‘You were no friend to Philippos. Who will challenge you now, Nilus the Sly?’

Ignoring him, Nilus pressed on. ‘We must do what we can to aid the king of Xanthos. It is obvious that whoever these men were, they came to kidnap Isobel and her father got in the way.’

As another roar of outrage greeted Nilus’s words, Chloe moved quickly through the crowd, heading down the long series of steps that doubled as seats to reach the floor. Men turned in surprise when she pushed through, but then fell silent, stunned when they recognized her. The din faded. The youngest men were surprised to see a woman in the lyceum, but the rest were shocked beyond belief. They remembered seeing Chloe in this very building defending the eldren. But Chloe, daughter of Aristocles, was supposed to be dead.

Reaching the floor, empty except for Nilus, she raised her voice as she approached the portly first consul. She came to a halt in the center of the lyceum. Her eyes narrowed, staring at him directly. Rather than apprehension or fear, she felt only anger.

‘I agree with you, Uncle Nilus,’ she called out. ‘Philippos did get in the way. Like my father, Aristocles, he was an obstacle to your ambition.’

‘Chloe?’ Nilus’s mouth dropped open. His face was pale; for a moment he was at a loss for words. ‘What are you doing here?’ Regaining his composure, he frowned. ‘We are in session – no women allowed!’

His allies raised their voices. ‘Get her out!’

But the faction of consuls loyal to the late Lord Philippos stood up and cried, ‘Let her speak!’

Chloe raised her hand. As the lyceum fell silent, the consuls sat down again, many leaning forward to hear what she was going to say. Having seen her father practice his speeches a thousand times, Chloe knew to speak clearly, turning and sweeping her eyes over the rows of staring men, so that everyone present could hear her words. ‘I think that this time, on this day, the Assembly can make an exception.’

Now the common citizens on the higher tiers were calling out to allow Chloe to speak. Aristocles had served as first consul since before most of them had come of age. The appearance of his daughter, a woman once wed to Nikolas of Xanthos and long supposed dead, was something they wouldn’t allow Nilus to simply dismiss.

As the shouts became a growing clamor, a panicked Nilus looked up, past the rows of faces. ‘Guards!’ But no guards came forward, and he glanced around, spreading his hands. ‘Lord Aristocles’ daughter is alive,’ he said weakly. ‘I suggest an adjournment . . .’