I turned away and stared at a dragon carved into the mantelpiece. According to my uncle, who was seldom wrong when it came to matters of court affairs, King Jakoven was angry about his half brother’s growing support, but he didn’t appear to take it as a serious threat to the throne. A view I thought, regretfully, that was fully justified.

“How did you escape?” I asked. “Torturer’s victims are usually carefully guarded.”

“I wasn’t held in the castle,” she said. “Jakoven had me secreted away in the basement of a building in town.”

Jakoven always played games, intrigues within intrigues. Some things, though, made sense—of course he’d secreted her someplace other than the castle. He’d lose a lot of support if it became known he’d tortured Tisala—a woman of high birth. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Tisala thoughtfully. “But Jakoven’s murdered several of the queen’s other lovers. And he was trying to kill Beckram and got Beckram’s twin instead four years ago. It would be easier for Jakoven to have Beckram killed than to pin a charge of treason on him.”

I shrugged and sat on the foot of the bed, leaning against one of the elegantly carved posts. “You’re right. But when the king killed Erdrick, I don’t think he realized just how much power the name Hurog still holds on the heart of Shavig. Politically, it is smarter to have Beckram proved a traitor and executed than to have someone kill him. Besides, then the punishment would fit the crime. My uncle forced the king to back down for Beckram’s sake—a charge of treason would humiliate Beckram equally.” I slouched a little, sliding down the bed, and Tisala casually pulled away from me.

“Though Jakoven failed with you, you are hardly the only person the king could torture a confession out of. I need to get word to him. Do you know if Beckram is in Estian now?” I asked. I didn’t keep an eye on my cousin’s travels. Iftahar was much nearer to Estian than Hurog was, and Beckram went to Estian on a monthly basis.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t know. Do you think Jakoven took others to make them accuse Beckram?”

I had been thinking about it from the angle of containing the threat toward my cousin, but, prompted by her question, I realized that anyone Jakoven had taken was likely to have been at least an acquaintance and probably a friend of Tisala’s.

I sat forward and Tisala jerked back from me. When she realized what she had done, she flushed with embarrassment—but she didn’t relax.