“Let them come. I’m hard to kill.”

She glanced up. Ebigail’s face was twisted with an emotion she’d never seen before.

Fear. For her? How things had changed. Determination burned away confusion, leaving purpose in its stead.

“I promise you, I’ll do nothing foolish. But if Viktor is responsible for Kasamor’s death . . .” She jerked to her feet and offered Ebigail a formal bow. “My thanks for the tea and your kindness both, Lady Kiradin. I’ll keep your warnings close to my heart.”

Ebigail rose and embraced her. “See that you do. I do not want to lose you as I lost my son.”

Marek set the front door to.

“Is she gone?” Lady Ebigail asked from further down the hall.

“Yes, lady.”

“And you’re certain she didn’t see Tailinn depart?”

Marek bristled. As if he’d let a foundry proctor use the front door frequented by guests of quality. “Quite certain, lady.”

She nodded her contentment, her thoughts plainly far afield. “Good. It would be a shame for so timely a convergence to be spoiled by untimely departure.”

By contrast, Lady Sevaka’s expression was full of storm clouds. “Kasamor would hate you for using Rosa like this.”

“If your brother had any wits worth respecting, he’d have married her long ago and we’d none of us be in this situation. He was fool enough to get himself killed, but he serves his family still. And so will Roslava. Young Viktor will bring this Republic low. He must be removed, but I cannot be seen to act in this – my dislike is too well known. Those who would disbelieve an accusation from me will experience no such reluctance should it come from one known to be his friend, and a hero of the Republic, no less. Yes. She’ll do very well indeed.”

“What if Viktor’s innocent?”

“I’m sure he is.” Lady Ebigail’s lip twitched. “But if the accusation doesn’t stick, I’m sure I’ll find something else that will.”

The daughter glanced away. “And Kasamor? Don’t you care who ordered his death?”

“I doubt the truth will ever come out. Your brother had a gift for cultivating enemies, and you know how this city of ours can be. However, I see no sense in letting events, however regrettable, go to waste.”

Lady Sevaka folded her arms tight across her chest, the action part self-comfort and part shield. “There are times when I weep to know that you are my mother.”

Lady Ebigail closed the distance with a single stride. She seized her daughter by the chin and forced her head back against the wall. “Yes, your tears ever come easily, don’t they? Especially when they flow for you, and you alone.”

Marek looked away, unable to bear witness to the acrimony between his beloved mistresses.