Isana found herself sitting in a chair with no clear recollection of how she had gotten there. She just stared at Aquitaine while her lips took their time to form her next words, as a flash of blazing-hot, blindly jealous rage flashed forth from Araris, who stood rock-still with his back to the door. He bottled it quickly, moving one hand to the hilt of his sword as he did, but all the same that single searing surge of emotion left Isana feeling off-balance, as if she’d come out of a dark cellar to stare directly into the sun. After a moment, she managed to choke out a few words. “Are you insane?”

Aquitaine’s teeth flashed again. “It’s an insane line of work,” he responded. “But it actually is a viable solution. I would retain the crown, with the line of succession passing to your son upon my death or retirement. And, given the nature of our relationship, his personal safety would become my responsibility, lest I lose the respect of the Citizenry for not being able to protect my own heir.”

“And what about your children?” Isana asked.

“I have none,” Aquitaine replied. “None of which I am aware, in any case—and I certainly have no legitimate heirs. And since your watercrafting will enable you to control completely whether or not I do manage to sire a legitimate heir, you can choose never to bear me children—in which case Octavian ascends smoothly to the Crown when he is older, wiser, and more ready to lead the Realm.”

Isana narrowed her eyes in thought. “Of course,” she said, “if something should happen to me, you would be free to take another wife. In that event, the child she bore you would have a claim upon the throne—a claim blocked by my son.”

Aquitaine let out a rueful chuckle. “Invidia was ever an artist of treachery,” he said. “I see that you did not survive your association with her by happy accident.”

“Additionally,” Isana continued, “how could you ever be certain that I was not plotting to remove you, once your guard was down?”

“Because you won’t,” Aquitaine said simply. “You aren’t that kind of person.”

“The kind of person willing to kill to protect her child?”

“The kind who stabs another in the back,” he said. “You’d be looking into my eyes. I can live with that.”