“Given that the three of you appear to have forgotten how to speak,” the princess said, “and because we are nearing our destination, allow me help out. Helino is not an architect, but rather the name of a fine chariot manufacturing business located in Kruger. I’m guessing you borrowed that name because you suspected that I—a princess and not a prince—wouldn’t be interested in something as crude and as violent as a charioteer business. That’s who you aren’t, but who are you? Judging by the advanced gout in your right foot—which I’m sure is brought on by a sedentary life and a diet primarily of pork, fish, and chicken—I can narrow the choices down to about four. But if I include your general demeanor, regional accent, and the use of the word cart as opposed to wagon, I suspect you are none other than Ex-Governor Vicross, formerly of Alburnia. I say formerly because you were recently dishonorably discharged from your position for dereliction of duty and suspicion of treason.”

She turned to face Orvis. “I believe our engineer is being played by Lars Ardmore, legatus of the Fourth Legion, and I’m going to guess our master builder is . . . well, I actually don’t know your name, but are you the first prymus serving under Lars?”

The look of concern on their faces gave the answer she was looking for.

“Don’t be so shocked,” she told them. “The lack of any actual surveying equipment, the disappearance of Kolby, and the last-minute summons of Manuel made it pretty obvious.”

“You caused us a great deal of trouble with your visit to Blythium Castell,” Vicross said, his voice having lost all pleasantry, but there was still an underlying cheerfulness, a certain glee in his tone.

“We lost everything,” Lars said. “My entire legion has been disgraced because of you.”

“So I’m to be killed?” she said. “And will you then be absolved of your crimes?”

“Yes.”

Farilane nodded, looked down, and nudged the metal links with her toe. “The chains are to weigh my body down, I take it. Good choice. Tying me to a rock wouldn’t work—rope would rot too quickly. You don’t want me bobbing up and seen by a random fisherman. Of course chain will rust, but perhaps not if it is completely submerged. I’m not an expert in metallurgy.” She took a breath. “Does my father know?”

“We are here on his orders,” Helino replied.

“And my brother?”

“Yes.”

Farilane nodded again. “But the Teshlors don’t know, do they?”

No response.

“Best make sure they never do.”