'Then what, do you suppose, are the chances of my making the same mistake twice? Never come back, I said. Not ever.' He waved with his hand and one of the monstrous Practicals stepped forward and lifted the lid of his case.

'No… no.' Her eyes darted over his instruments, and back. 'You won. You won, of course. I should have been grateful, the first time. Please.' She leaned forward, looking him in the eyes. Her voice dropped, grew husky, 'Please. Surely there must be… something that I can do… to make up for my foolishness…'

A peculiar mixture of feigned desire and genuine disgust. Fake longing and genuine loathing. And rendered still more distasteful by the edge of mounting terror. It makes me wonder why I was merciful in the first place.

Glokta snorted. 'Must this be embarrassing as well as painful?'

The effort at seduction leaked quickly away. But I note that the fear is going nowhere. It was joined now by a rising note of desperation. 'I know that I made a mistake… I was trying to help… please, I meant you no real harm… I caused you no harm, you know it!' He reached out slowly towards the case, watched her horrified eyes follow his white-gloved hand, her voice rising to a squeal of panic. 'Only tell me what I can do! Please! I can help you! I can be useful! Tell me what I can do!'

Glokta's hand paused on its remorseless journey across the table. He tapped one finger against the wood. The finger on which the Arch Lector's ring glittered in the lamplight. 'Perhaps there is a way.'

'Anything,' she gurgled, teary eyes gleaming. 'Anything, only name it!'

'You have contacts in Talins?'

She swallowed. 'In Talins? Of… of course.'

'Good. I, and some colleagues of mine on the Closed Council, are concerned about the role that Grand Duke Orso means to play in Union politics. Our feeling—our very strong feeling—is that he should stick to bullying Styrians, and keep his nose out of our business.' He gave a significant pause.

'How do I—'

'You will go to Talins. You will be my eyes in the city. A traitor, fleeing for her life, friendless and alone, seeking only a place for a new beginning. A beautiful yet wretched traitor, in desperate need of a strong arm to protect her. You get the idea.'

'I suppose… I suppose that I could do that.'

Glokta snorted. 'You had better.'

'I will need money—'

'Your assets have been seized by the Inquisition.'

'Everything?'