Katsa glowered. “It was a draw. No one won.”

“I say.” It was Giddon’s voice, and as he entered the room and looked from Katsa to Po, his eyes grew dark. He put his hand to his sword. He whirled on Po. “I don’t see where you come off fighting the Lady Katsa.”

“Giddon,” said Katsa. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Giddon turned to her. “He had no right to attack you.”

“I struck the first blow, Giddon. Sit down.”

“If you struck the first blow then he must have insulted you—”

Katsa jumped up from her seat. “That’s enough, Giddon—if you think I need you to defend me—”

“A guest to this court, a total stranger—”

“Giddon—”

“Lord Giddon.” Po had risen to his feet, and his voice cut through hers. “If I’ve insulted your lady,” he said, “you must forgive me. I rarely have the pleasure of practicing with someone of her caliber, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I can assure you she did more damage to me than I did to her.”

Giddon didn’t take his hand from his sword, but his grimace lessened.

“I’m sorry to have insulted you, as well,” Po said. “I see now I should’ve taken greater care of her face. Forgive me. It was unpardonable.” He reached his hand across the table.

Giddon’s angry eyes grew warm again. He reached out and shook Po’s hand. “You understand my concern,” Giddon said.

“Of course.”

Katsa looked from one of them to the other, the two of them shaking hands, understanding each other’s concern. She didn’t see where Giddon came off feeling insulted. She didn’t see how Giddon had any place in it at all. Who were they, to take her fight away from her and turn it into some sort of understanding between themselves? He should’ve taken more care of her face? She would knock his nose from his face. She would thump them both, and she would apologize to neither.

Po caught her eyes then, and she did nothing to soften the silent fury she sent across the table to him. “Shall we sit?” someone said. Po held her eyes as they sat. There was no trace of humor in his expression, no trace of the arrogance of his exchange with Giddon. And then he mouthed two words. It was as clear as if he’d said them aloud. “Forgive me.”

Well.

Giddon was still a horse’s ass.

Sixteen Council members attended the meeting, in addition to Po and Lord Davit: Katsa, Raffin, Giddon, Oll, and Oll’s wife, Bertol; two soldiers under Oll’s command, two spies who worked with him, three underlords of Giddon’s rank, and four servants—one a woman who worked in the kitchens of the castle, one a stable hand, one a washerwoman, and one a clerk in Randa’s countinghouse. There were others in the castle involved with the Council. But most nights, these were their representatives, along with Bann, when he could get away.

Since the meeting had been called to hear Lord Davit’s information, the Council wasted no time.