“Of course. Why should the Dhemlan people have to pay for your family’s financial imprudence?”

“So you took almost four million gold marks away from us?”

He shrugged. “I could afford it . . . once.” And the timing for that last loan had pissed him off enough that he’d played their manipulative game with so much finesse Hekatah’s family had never realized he was playing. “You could always give them a portion of your quarterly income.”

“As if that pittance would do much good,” Hekatah replied, her eyes filled with resentment.

“Thirty thousand gold marks a quarter is hardly a pittance,” Saetan said with cutting gentleness. “Especially when you don’t have to maintain a household”—he saw the jolt of nerves, quickly suppressed, which confirmed what he’d suspected—“and the only thing those funds have to cover are your personal expenses.” He paused. “Or, if you prefer, I can release the principal I put in trust for you as a wedding gift, from which you receive that quarterly income, and you can give your family as much of it as you choose.”

She said nothing. He hadn’t expected her to.

She pushed herself out of the chair and stood before him, one hand resting on the large belly where his child moved inside her. It might have softened him enough to yield a little if he’d truly believed that gesture was a protective one rather than a reminder that she had power over something he wanted.

“I’m going to Hayll to offer my mother, and the rest of my family, whatever comfort I can,” she said.

He choked back a protest, knowing she would use any concern he showed as a weapon against him. “Do you think that’s wise?” he asked mildly. “You shouldn’t be traveling so close to your time.”

“I’m going to Hayll.”

The challenge filled the space between them.

“I would appreciate it if you would send a message back to let me know you arrived safely,” Saetan said.

Her shoulders slumped, her only acknowledgment that she had lost this battle of wills. Then she walked out of his study.

He waited there, his hands, tightly clasped, resting on the desk, while his mind, at times too facile for his own comfort, turned over nuggets of information and presented him with some unpalatable conclusions.