‘He’s got Farsensers out scouring for her. He thinks he can find her.’

I managed – just – to remain expressionless. ‘But he won’t.’

The Bull moaned. ‘If Byron wasn’t in love with her there wouldn’t be a problem.’

For some reason my tongue stopped working. I stared at him, dumbstruck.

‘It’s all that boy’s fault. Aifric is trying to make up for the fact that he left his son for dead across the Veil. He’ll give him whatever he wants.’

I licked my lips and swallowed. ‘And … and what Byron Moncrieffe wants is to marry Tipsania?’ Even though Kirsty’s Gift told me the Bull was telling the truth, I didn’t want to believe it. Every other piece of evidence I’d had was to the contrary but doubt was starting to creep in. Actually ‘creep’ was the wrong word; it was more like a vicious assault.

The Bull’s head dropped again. ‘Tipsania was such a beautiful girl. She wasn’t perfect and I know she was spoilt but she didn’t deserve to die so young. Byron will be heartbroken. He wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to delay the wedding. He wants it done as soon as possible.’ He moaned again.

I barely heard him. I was still absorbing the revelation that Byron was pushing for the ceremony. I’d been such an idiot. The others were right: this had nothing to do with Aifric’s machinations. Byron was in love with Tipsania and wanted to wed her – or worse, he wanted her money to maintain his Clan’s ascendancy, regardless of anyone’s feelings.

I knew the Bull was telling the truth and I knew that I was the worst kind of idiot. I wasn’t denying that Byron had felt something for me but it obviously hadn’t run very deep. Sharp pain stabbed at my heart. My alleged corpse was barely cold. I understood that I’d betrayed him by faking my death in front of his eyes but I hadn’t had any choice ‒ it had been pretend to die or, well, die.

My knuckles tightened around the picture frame and the hurt in my chest expanded. How could one man make me feel like this? A hard knot rose in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. There was no way I was going to cry.

‘What else is he planning?’ I asked once I could form words again. ‘What else does Aifric Moncrieffe have up his sleeve?’

The Bull’s eyes were wild. ‘How the hell should I know? I’m not exactly his confidante, am I? You put paid to that when you told him you had my true name.’ He paused, his expression suggesting he’d suddenly had a revelation. ‘Hang on. If you know everything then why don’t you know what Aifric is up to?’

I thought quickly. ‘I have your true name. That is why I know of your dealings, Cul-chain,’ I intoned.

The Bull was only mildly appeased. He looked me up and down, taking in my dark clothing. His stance shifted and, as he put his weight onto his toes, I saw suspicion in his eyes. Without further warning, he lunged for me. ‘You’re no ghost,’ he spat.