“It won’t have been anything personal on their part. Just one more commission. I doubt it was even the same kernclaw, and I see no reason not to put them to good use over something that cannot be altered, whatever we might wish.” Lady Ebigail waved a dismissive hand. “Malachi’s death would have kept the Council under my control until well after this business with the Southshires is done. Long enough for everything else to fall into place. Instead, he’s still scheming. Worse, that feckless coward Anton’s slit his wrists over his harlot daughter.” She spun around, eyes ablaze. “Well if he thinks her bastard’s getting a chair at my table, he’s very much mistaken.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Why does it matter? You’re as bad as the rest.”

“I’ve always known that, too. Perhaps I’d be less useless if I understood the game you’re playing.”

“The game?” Lady Ebigail’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Malachi Reveque aims to drag the Republic into soft-bellied anarchy, and you think this is a game?”

“When did you become obsessed with Malachi?”

“When he grew a spine. If only my daughter would do the same.”

“Then have the kernclaw make a second attempt.”

“The Crowmarket won’t risk another failure. They’ve a lot of pride for a den of thieves.”

Lady Sevaka shrugged. “Then I don’t know what to suggest. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”

“And where are you going this night,” asked Lady Ebigail. “Another dalliance, I suppose?”

Her daughter halted, her hand on the door. “As it happens, Rosa asked for my help.”

“Oh, so you’re friends now, are you?”

Her back still to her mother, Lady Sevaka’s expression soured. A bleakness settled in Marek’s heart to see it. She’d smiled so little since coming home.

“That’s what she thinks. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes. See that you remain mindful of how things really are.”

“How could I forget?”

The door slammed. Lady Ebigail stared in silence for a long moment. Then she collapsed in an armchair, palm braced against her brow. “Never have children, Marek.”

“No, lady.”

“Only those you cannot claim have any worth, and the rest . . .” She leaned forward, her expression clearing and dry enthusiasm crowding her tone. “But Sevaka was right, wasn’t she? I have allowed my gaze to wander. Malachi is only part of the problem. But I cannot leave the house. After last night’s failure, that would draw too much notice. I must be seen to cower behind my guards.”

Her head snapped up. Marek straightened as her gaze touched on him. “Lady?”

“I need you to deliver a message.”

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Four