“Milady,” Croy said, dropping to his knees so hard the floorboards creaked. “I would die a thousand times in your service—”

“But why? Why would I want that? It would accomplish nothing!”

“But I took a vow to save you and your mother—”

“You and I will have to talk when this is over. If any of us are still alive,” she said. “Oh, Croy, don’t look at me like that.”

The knight dropped his gaze.

“Be of good cheer,” she told him. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Anyway, perhaps things will work out. Maybe a thief can succeed where a knight failed.”

Malden glanced over at Kemper, and they both shook their heads. As much as Malden wished his own troubles gone, he would not have traded places with Croy at that moment.

“I didn’t mean that to be cruel,” Cythera insisted. She tried to meet Croy’s eye but he wouldn’t look up at her. “I have not forgotten all you’ve done for me,” she told him. “But you must realize—my mother’s safety, and my freedom, mean everything to me.”

“And to me,” Croy said.

“Then you must free me,” she said.

“But that’s exactly what I—that is, what Malden and I are trying to do,” Croy pointed out.

“An’ me, son, don’t forget I’m riskin’ my neck, too,” Kemper insisted.

“And Kemper, too, of course. We’re all trying to free you,” Croy said.

“No, not from that . . . you infuriating man!” Cythera moved toward the door. “Croy—please. Let me go.”

He did look up at her then, with utter confusion on his face. “I would never dream of delaying you.”

“Then forgive me already and let me be at peace,” she said.

“Forgive you . . . but for what?” Croy asked.

Cythera’s face creased in grief. “You don’t understand. I can’t make you understand. Just tell me you forgive me. Even if you don’t know why.”

“Of course, then, I forgive you. I forgive you all—there is never anything you could do I would not forgive and forget, on the instant . . .” The knight’s voice trailed off. Maybe he was starting to get the point after all.

“I go,” Cythera said. “Goodbye. Malden, I’ll try and come to see you again the day you make your move. If anything changes before then I’ll make sure you know it. I’ll have to come to you during the day, when I do my marketing.”

“I’ll be ready,” Malden told her.

Cythera left then. The three men watched her head up the lane toward Turnhill Bridge, which would eventually lead her down to Parkwall. When she was out of sight Croy walked over to the table and slammed it with his fist.

“What did she mean by that? Why would she ask for my forgiveness? What has she ever done to harm me?”