A muscle twitched in her cheek. For the briefest of moments her blue eyes softened. But only for that moment. “Lord Viktor Akadra, you stand accused of crimes against the Republic. Treason. Corruption. Murder. Witchery. Surrender yourself.”

Viktor felt the world slip away. Had his father revealed their demon’s bargain? That would explain the witchery charge. But not the others.

“Rosa. What is this? Name my accuser. This is a—”

Rosa’s gut-punch sucked his words into a wracking, gasping void. Another blow snapped his head aside. Red flared behind his eyes. His knee jarred against stone.

The crowds shrank back in alarm. Murmurs of outrage and worry rippled through the air. A merchant brought his cart to a clattering halt beneath King’s Gate, not wanting to be caught up in the unfolding commotion.

Viktor spat a mouthful of blood onto the roadway. Rosa’s emotionless facade fell as her body quivered with rage. Her eyes blazed with it. A sight he’d not seen since their first meeting, when he’d dressed her down for the idle, privileged brat she’d been.

“Bad enough that you’ve been in the Crowmarket’s pay all this time! But Kas would have died for you!” she spat. “And you murdered him!”

Kasamor? Pieces of the puzzle were coalescing, but too slowly to be of use. Not that Viktor imagined facts had much purchase on Rosa at that moment. There was too much anger in her blood. Though somehow the cause of her wrath, he suspected she barely saw him. “Rosa, you’re not making any . . .”

This time, he rolled with her punch. It still set his teeth rattling.

Commotion broke out behind. Hearthguard hurried forward, their words murky in Viktor’s ringing ears.

Rosa backed away. “7th! To me!”

The king’s blue line surged forward. The last of the passers-by withdrew, streaming back beneath the gate, or making for the open fields of the city approach.

Viktor opened his mouth. Words vanished into the black clouds about his thoughts. He didn’t have time for this. Calenne missing. His honour on the knife-edge of betrayal through unseen circumstance. And now someone had set the cornerstones of his life crumbling?

His shadow roared for freedom. The roadway felt cold as ice beneath his fingers. But this was one problem it couldn’t fix. One glimpse would unmake him. And he didn’t want to hurt Rosa. She was as much a victim as he. She had to be.

“Stand back!” shouted Josiri. “Sergeant, hold your ground!”

The hearthguard drew back. Rosa clasped a fist, and the 7th halted.

Josiri dismounted in front of Viktor, his back to the line of drawn swords. Rosa glowered and backed further away. Her lips thinned almost to nothing, and her jaw muscles went taut as mooring ropes. She knew she’d overstepped. A good sign among the bad.

“Your friend seems nice,” said Josiri.