'No threat was intended, of course, I would never—'

'That simply would not do, Lord Hoff! That simply would not do. At the very slightest breath of violence against them… why, I would not wish you even to imagine the inhuman horror of my response.'

Closer yet, so close that his spit made a soft mist across Hoff's trembling jowls. 'I cannot permit any further discussion of this issue. Ever. I cannot permit even the rumour that there might be an issue. Ever. It simply… would… not… do, Lord Hoff, for an eyeless, tongueless, faceless, fingerless, cockless bag of meat to be occupying your chair on the Closed Council.' He stepped away, grinning his most revolting grin. 'Why, my Lord Chamberlain… who would drink all the wine?'

It was a beautiful autumn day in Adua, and the sun shone pleasantly through the branches of the fragrant fruit trees, casting a dappled shade onto the grass beneath. A pleasing breeze fluttered through the orchard, stirring the crimson mantle of the king as he strode regally around his lawn, and the white coat of his Arch Lector as he hobbled doggedly along at a respectful distance, stooped over his cane. Birds twittered from the trees, and his Majesty's highly polished boots crunched in the gravel and made faint, agreeable echoes against the white buildings of the palace.

From the other side of the high walls came the faint sound of distant work. The clanking of picks and hammers, the scraping of earth and the clattering of stone. The faint calls of the carpenters and the masons. These were the most pleasant sounds of all, to Jezal's ear. The sounds of rebuilding.

'It will take time, of course,' he was saying.

'Of course.'

'Years, perhaps. But much of the rubble is already cleared. The repair of some of the more lightly damaged buildings has already begun. The Agriont will be more glorious than ever before you know it. I have made it my highest priority.'

Glokta bowed his head even lower. 'And therefore mine, and that of your Closed Council. Might I enquire…' he murmured, 'after the health of your wife, the queen?'

Jezal worked his mouth. He hardly liked discussing his personal business with this man, of all people, but it could not be denied that whatever the cripple had said, there had been a most dramatic improvement.

'A material change.' Jezal shook his head. 'I find now that she is a woman of almost… insatiable appetites.'

'I am delighted that my entreaties have had an effect.'

'Oh, they have, they have, only there is still a certain…' Jezal waved his hand in the air, searching out the right word. 'Sadness in her. Sometimes… I hear her crying, in the night. She stands at the open window, and she weeps, for hours at a time.'