“These are evil tidings,” agreed Adelheid. “Yet much of this we know ourselves, here in Aosta.”

“This we suffer together.” He nodded.

“What do you want?” demanded Antonia. “You are a heretic, apostate, an Arethousan who lies as easily as breathes and who, like the fox, will steal eggs from a mother’s nest to feed your own kits.”

Adelheid’s hands clenched on the pearls as she rounded on Antonia. “I pray you! Holy Mother, let him speak. I sent envoys to inquire about an alliance. I did not expect the lord general himself to answer my call.”

“What lordship has he?” Antonia inquired sweetly. “Your proud lineage is known to all, Your Majesty. I am a daughter of the royal house of Karrone. What is he?”

He flexed his arms a little. By the breadth and thickness of his hands, one could read his lineage: a man of the sword, grown with the sword, risen by the sword, a general who had fought his entire life. “I married a noble wife,” he said. “Born into the house of Theophanes Dasenia. She is cousin of the last emperor. Also, she is cousin two times removed to the Princess Sophia who marries your King Henry in early days. A clever, industrious woman, proud, a giver of alms. Noble in all ways.”

His breath caught. The assembly was quiet, hearing in his voice a grief that made Antonia, for a moment, feel an inconvenient thread of sympathy wrap her heart. Quickly severed.

“Dead, now.” He was pale. Adelheid, too, had lost her color, and yet in all ways her looks had changed utterly since the general had entered the hall. His interest made her seem younger.

He looked at the empress, but what he saw Antonia could not read in his expression. “Arethousa is fallen, Your Majesty. The city is destroyed. Its people are exiles, those who live. Many more are dead. Even the great church is ruins.”

Adelheid nodded, as if this did not surprise her. Why should it? She had seen Darre.

“What of the young emperor, General Lord Alexandras?” Antonia asked. “Does Lord Niko live?”

He nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on the queen as on the spear of his enemy, which might pierce him at any unguarded moment. “The emperor lives under the skirt of his aunt, Lady Eudokia. She and I were allies once.”

“Once?” Adelheid asked quickly. “No longer?”

He smiled, as if Adelheid’s question were suggestive of brilliance. How easily men of a certain age were dazzled by young, pretty women. Henry had fallen in just such a manner, it was said.

“This is what I say,” he continued. “Lady Eudokia prefers blindness. She walks in the ruins and calls them a palace. I cannot be blind to what I see.”

“What do you want, General?” Antonia asked, seeing it was wise to intercede before the conversation ran out of her control. “I believe that the Empress Queen Adelheid has made a rash suggestion that her daughter might marry the boy who is now Emperor of Arethousa. Is that what you have come to speak of? If so, let us move directly to the point. Speak bluntly as you soldiers phrase it!”