He gripped the backrest of the chair so tight Apara feared it would shatter to splinters. “You lying, treacherous . . .”

Ebigail cut him off with a wave of a finger. “Don’t let pride lead you false, my dearest. It would be such a shame if the shadow of suspicion fell across you as well.”

“The Grand Council will never stand for this.”

“Oh yes, the Grand Council.” Ebigail shook her head. “Never knowingly bereft of empty opinion and meaningless debate. I fear it is infested with traitors.”

“You have proof of this?”

“Proof is for doubting minds. I have the support of Prydonis, Sartorov and the church. What need have I of proof? The constabulary are already going door to door. I expect many will not be taken alive, one way or the other, but we’ll have enough left for the spectacle of a trial.”

“And the pyre you’re having built in the Hayadra Grove? More spectacle?”

“A lesson, scratched out in the ashes of Roslava Orova. A cleansing will do the Republic all manner of good. It will burn away our weakness and leave us stronger.” She shook her head, as might a disapproving tutor. “On which side of that lesson you serve is down to you.”

Hadon’s expression didn’t flicker. But Apara knew what many did not – that truth often dwelled in the eyes. So it was here. Hadon Akadra’s eyes broke alongside his spirit.

Perhaps she’d been right all along. All wind, no fury.

“What do you wish of me?”

Apara’s mother drifted around the end of the table and set a hand to his cheek. “Go home. When this is over, we’ll discuss how you can best serve my Republic.”

Defiance flared in his eyes. Then it was gone. “Yes, Ebigail.”

Lord Akadra retreated from the chamber, leaving mother and daughter alone.

“He used to be such a vigorous man, afraid of nothing,” Apara’s mother said. “Even ten years ago, he’d have fought. He’d have squeezed the life out of me before making that craven display. Now look at him. Gelded and brittle. But he may yet serve some small function.”

Apara cleared her throat. “May I ask something?”

A brief smile. “Whatever you like, so long as you retain a civil tongue.”

“This . . . All of this. Was it always your plan?”

“Only the goal. The rest . . . Well, you must be flexible if you are to thrive, Apara. Fate laughs at your intentions.” She paused. “Kasamor. There was no going back after that. I couldn’t let his death be for nothing. He forced me to it, you know. He found out about my links to the Crowmarket, and threatened to tell the Council if I blocked his ridiculous betrothal to that southwealder. He was never more my son than in that moment, and never more a fool.”