Lady Kiradin set the door closed with a muffled thud. Marek shuffled across the dusty floor and set the tray on the bedside table. The previous night’s offering was still there, untouched. How swiftly routine bedded in.

“I see you’re still not eating,” said Lady Ebigail. “You remain a child, even after all these years.”

Lady Sevaka leaned forward. The chain linking her shackled wrist to the iron bedframe went taut. “You needn’t pretend concern. Or is it Marek you hope to convince?”

“Marek knows his place,” Lady Ebigail snapped. “If only you’d learned yours.”

“Oh, poor Mother. Your life is hard.”

The slap echoed about the chamber. “You will keep a civil tongue!”

Lady Sevaka pressed a palm to her reddened cheek. “Or what? You’ll have me murdered, as you did my brother? I didn’t want to believe, do you know that? Even when Rosa told me, and I knew without question, I told myself that even you wouldn’t go so far.”

Marek kept a studiously neutral expression. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the accusation. Lady Sevaka had first levelled it four nights ago, when she’d burst into the kitchen, breathless and thick with fury. She’d repeated it at every opportunity since.

“Kasamor sought to humiliate us all,” said Lady Ebigail. “He was weak.”

“He was in love!”

“And what good did love ever do anyone?” She shook her head. “I loved my first husband, but he too was weak. Sloppy in his dealings with the Crowmarket. Bad enough that he got caught, but he’d have had me on the gallows beside him. He’d have dragged the whole family down into the mire. Sacrifices must be made.”

“You’d compare accusations of treason to a marriage?”

“A calamitous marriage. The southwealders are unruly. Divisive. Their lands grow sedition as readily as any crop. The best thing Katya Trelan ever did for the Republic was to get herself killed. And you’d have her brat taint our great family? Our Republic? Just because your brother was smitten?”

Lady Sevaka hung her head and laughed. “Our great family? You betrayed your first husband to the Council. You ordered Kas’ death. You had Marek drug me and lock me in here, which I’m sure he enjoyed more than he should have. Did you enjoy laying hands on me, you old letch? You think I’ve never noticed how you look at me?”

Marek’s heart faltered at the venomous words. “Lady Sevaka, I swear . . . I’d never . . .”

Lady Ebigail cut him off with a chop of her hand. “Enough! Both of you!”

Marek plunged into humiliated silence. He wasn’t sure what stung more, daughter’s accusation or mother’s reprimand.

“Tell me,” Lady Sevaka placed each word with weighty precision, “did Father find his way to Otherworld without your help? Or was he too an embarrassment?”