“Really?” Her face and voice held polite interest. “Not even when he is living proof? For what it’s worth, I agree. But nor should Roslava Orova be punished for defending herself . . . and my own dear Sevaka.” Her tone darkened. “Did you think I would forgive that?”

Lord Tarev swallowed, throat bobbing as he sought a way out of the trap. Marek had seen it more times than he could count. They always fought. And they always lost.

“You cannot ask me to choose between my daughter and my grandson.”

“I’m offering you the chance to acknowledge that Aske was a wild animal and to cast her adrift as such. Or you can see both destroyed.” Setting a hand beneath his chin, she eased it upward, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Choice has nothing to do with it.”

He broke. Marek could always tell when the light slipped from their eyes. Lord Tarev pulled away. His shoulders straightened with fragile dignity.

“When the mists take you, Ebigail, I hope they bury you so deep that the light of Third Dawn never reaches you.”

She cocked her head. “Is that a yes?”

With a snarl, Lord Tarev kicked the lectern. He was on the move before it crashed to the floor, striding for the exit. Receiving a nod from Lady Ebigail, Marek unlocked the door and stood aside.

Lady Ebigail righted the lectern. She smoothed a wingtip’s scuffed corner with a thumb and glanced at her daughter. “You may thank me now, if you wish.”

Lady Sevaka’s expression – her whole being – twisted in revulsion. “I can’t believe what you just did. He was your ally.”

“When it suited him. But he’s weak. They’re all weak. That grandson of his was a weight around his neck from the day he was born, but he can’t bring himself to let the brat fall by the wayside.”

Lady Sevaka shook her head. “He should have let you destroy the child?”

“Of course. I’m sure it would hurt immensely, but it would only be the once, and then Anton would be free. That’s the thing about pain, Sevaka. It fades. And it leaves you stronger.”

“And if positions were reversed, would you cast me aside so easily?”

She sniffed. “What secrets I have are hidden where Anton will never find them. You may rely on that. But no. With your brother lost to us, what hopes I have reside in you, and you alone. And if you ever are so foolish to bear a child out of wedlock, I advise you to smother the creature or bury it deep.”

Marek hadn’t believed Lady Sevaka could look any more disgusted. He’d been wrong. “This is just a game to you, isn’t it?”