“But a highborn woman would be safe because of Tallvenish custom—at least youshould have been. They would need a single woman—otherwise her husband would be expected to stop her. But to what purpose . . .” I stared at her and she stared back blandly.

This woman,something whispered deep inside my heart,this woman is for me.

The bruises on her face were yellow and green. She was too thin, making her nose stand out even more. She wore one of my oldest robes and one of the pieces of chicken we’d eaten at lunch had left a greasy spot on the material over her arm. And none of it mattered at all.

“Perhaps,” I speculated, hoping she hadn’t read what I was thinking in my face. “Perhaps there is a nobleman who would like to see Jakoven fall. Maybe this nobleman has money to support Alizon, perhaps it is information, or even just a message. Perhaps he wants to be completely anonymous. If there were someone who could be trusted to pass things on, an anonymous servant or even a street child could be sent to this supporter of Alizon—if people knew who he—or rather she was.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Truly you have an active imagination, Ward.”

“Accurate, too,” I said. “How did you contact Alizon?”

She opened her mouth, then shut it. When she spoke, she said, “I’m not a fish to rise to your bait. Suffice it to say that your casting is in the right area and we’ll leave it at that.”

BUTIT WASN’T SO EASY TO LEAVE THE INFORMATIONI’d gotten from Tisala alone. Jakoven was moving against Beckram, my cousin—my responsibility. The king’s gambit with Tisala had failed, but he had many other arrows in his quiver.

Over the next few weeks as the first snows left the mountains white and frosted the air, I pondered Jakoven’s next move. But the only thing I settled upon was that it would be disastrous to wait for Jakoven to play his own game. I’d have to make a move of my own.

“I’MGOING TOESTIAN,”ISAID OVER SUPPER.

The guardsmen ate in their quarters, but there was enough tile done in the great hall that my family took our meals there, my family and our guest. Tisala had been mobile enough to take the stairs for the last week, so she’d begun to join us for meals. We sat close to the great fireplace that tried to make up for the open doorway, where soon the great doors would hang. The armorer’s first attempt at hinges had been beautiful, but not strong enough to hold the doors, so he was trying again.

“Estian? Youare mad,” said Oreg with conviction, though not disapproval—more as if he were delighted with the discovery. He’d finished eating and was settled back watching the rest of us.

I grinned at him.