“He was cruel, Clem. A man bent by selfishness. But that doesn’t absolve me for what I did. What I planned as a member of his court. And it’s all the more reason why I refuse to see someone unworthy take the throne again.”

I nodded and slipped from the tent. I tried to put myself in his place, in Imonie’s place. What would I do if I was in the court of a cruel person? Was it right to kill them? I kept to the shadows, tossing off my stealth charm halfway to my tent.

I entered through the canvas door. I heard the clink of beads, the rustle of fabric, and I startled to see the countess standing there.

“Lady,” I said, rigid with shock. I felt a spasm of fear that she had uncovered my journal with my exposé, which was sitting just behind her, tucked away in my satchel. What would she do to me if she read it?

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Visiting the privy.”

“For ten minutes?”

“I had to walk a good way to find a private place,” I said. “Your servants mill around the camp like ants.”

She was pensive for a moment, as if weighing my voice for a lie.

“May I help you with something?” I asked.

“You and my son have quarreled,” she stated tersely. “What about?”

“I think you should ask him, lady.”

“I have, and he will not tell me.” She pulled her fur cloak tighter about her, but her eyes never left mine. “Whatever has come between you . . . you need to settle it before we arrive at the fortress tomorrow morning.”

I sighed. “What is this truly about, Lady Raven?”

“Phelan cares for you, Anna,” she said, and I couldn’t help it: my mouth fell open, drawing a snicker from her. “Do not act so surprised. Any fool could see it.”

“Any fool could see he can hardly bear to look at me.”

“That may be, but I know my son very well. And when he does allow himself to look at you, there is an ocean in his eyes,” the countess said. “I will not see you usher his downfall.”

“His downfall? Lady Raven . . . I am his partner.” A partner who had once schemed of gathering all his family’s dirt and publishing it in the paper. A partner who had once drawn his blood with a rapier and reveled in his groveling.

She wasn’t wrong to doubt me.

“Partners have turned on each other before,” she countered. “I want you to swear allegiance to my family. Your vow will come into great importance when we stand in the fortress hall tomorrow, when the curse realizes we have all returned to the place of our betrayal.”

The last thing I wanted was to swear my allegiance to the Vespers.