Anger. He’d have preferred anger. Anything was preferable to feeling like a beggar invited to a banquet out of charity. But he supposed Lily was right. Better, not more. He couldn’t even stand up to his own wife. She towered over him even as she tried to raise him up.

“So what do I do?”

“One thing, and do it well.”

“You mean, be a more present father.”

Her eyes danced in approval. “Two things, then. You want this peace treaty?”

“It’s too late. I’ve forsaken it.”

“Nonsense. Ebigail lied to you, if by omission. You can lie in exchange.”

The thought held some appeal, but it also sparked a frisson of fear. “That’s dangerous.”

But the more Malachi dwelled on the idea, the more appealing it became. So much so that he found himself standing straighter than he had before.

“So am I.” Lily planted her hands on her hips and struck a pose suited to a hero of old – though not without a wry glimmer. “I am Lilyana Matilla Reveque, daughter of the first rank, and no one makes a fool of my husband . . . except for his children.”

“What about the Grand Council?”

“Lumestra will guide me, and I will guide you.” There was no mirth in her voice now. “You represent our family, Malachi, but you needn’t do so alone.”

Setting aside the last of his resentment, he kissed his wife and held her close. However fortunate she’d been in her choice, he’d been luckier still. It was just that some days it was hard to see that. Do one thing, she’d said, and do it well. Yes, it could be done. But first, he had a friend who needed help. And if Lily had made one thing clear, it was that he couldn’t be trusted to manage things alone.

“Lily,” he whispered. “There’s something I should tell you about Rosa.”

“I confess, I expected that I’d been summoned on foundry business,” said Elzar. “Not . . . well . . . Forgive me, Lady Orova, but this lies some way outside my experience.”

Rosa nodded, the familiar knot of worry gripping her stomach. Whatever else she felt or did not, her capacity for that particular emotion had no end. She’d violently rejected the idea of bringing a stranger into her confidence. But Malachi had held his ground, arguing that they’d never learn anything without risk. And so, she’d at last relented.

For all the good that had done.

Malachi leaned forward in his chair. “Please, Elzar. Viktor speaks highly of your judgement.”

Elzar steepled his fingers and sank back, eyes closed. In the afternoon sunlight of the drawing room, he resembled a crag darter basking on the rocks. “There is . . . something. But I must caution against repeating it.”

Rosa nodded. Malachi shared a brief glance with Lilyana, who stood behind his chair looking a fraction uneasier than Rosa felt.

“It will go no further,” said Lilyana.