Orfeus’s tongue felt thick and bloodstained. Here was the moment where she could try to convince the others, tell them of Luga’s ploy.

But the Order would never accept a weak leader. She could do so much more good if they accepted her.

Still bearing ver burden, Dormarch paused, and then inclined ver head to Orfeus. The tiniest nod.

“If you don’t despise me, I could use your aid,” Orfeus found herself saying. She hated herself sometimes. But she had to survive, had to make the most of the situation she was in.

Dormarch shook ver head slowly. “It’s past time to retire,” ve said, and tightened ver hand over Luga’s dangling leg. “He was my friend long before he was my Leader.” Ver eyes were distant. “I’ll bury him in the ground, in the old way. He’d like that.”

“May the road be kind to you,” Orfeus said. Boarhound walked past her, stiff-legged, and made no reply. Fair enough.

She turned to watch Dormarch go. Faolan was standing in the doorway, a cup of juice dropped on the ground. Standing there, staring. Dormarch stopped too, and ducked ver head now rather than look at him.

Faolan looked at the corpse of Luga. Looked at Orfeus. Looked at the sword at her feet.

Despite everything, she still couldn’t read his eyes at all, but she didn’t need to. The small noise he made, the tiny quiet no, was the purest sound of grief she’d ever heard.

“Wait,” Orfeus blurted, “it’s not – it’s not what it seems. He wanted to die and I…” Faol hated it when she lied, and her rationalisations felt thin right then. “Faolan…”

“He used to call me ‘wolf cub’,” Faol said, without inflection.

Then he bowed to her, and said nothing more.

Dormarch kept walking out, slowed by ver burden. Ve said nothing to Faol. Faolan stood there, looking distant. Orfeus swallowed.

“Could you fetch Mordrai?” she said quietly. Any busywork would do, to get him away from the bloodstains.

Faol said nothing, but left.

Orfeus let out a shaky breath, left alone in that space. She angled a glance up at the throne, but couldn’t bear the thought of sitting in it. And that pile of debris was silly, there were better ways to achieve the feeling of leaders being elevated. The strength of the Order was the illusion of equality, anyway. She’d change a lot of things around here.

No more kill contracts, for a start. Nothing like what happened to her and Tinctora.

Could she do this, use this bad start to turn the broken system into something better? She, who had so much more potential than she’d ever known to be monstrous?

Right now, she had to cement any alliances, cement her position, if she wanted to even stay alive long enough to try.