“Clearly this topic requires more . . . discussion . . . than I thought,” Malachi went on. “I suggest we adjourn until tomorrow. The clerks assure me that the documentation regarding the Southshires will be ready by then. You’ll be free to leave us, Josiri. I assume you’ll accompany him, Viktor?”

Viktor nodded. “Indeed.”

Which meant leaving his father and Malachi at loggerheads for however long he was away. Days? Weeks? However long it took to find Calenne. To find her – and if necessary to mourn her.

Malachi nodded. “Then if we’ve nothing more to discuss, perhaps you’ll excuse me.”

Malachi stared across the sunlit gardens. At least his house remained an island of familiar calm. Could he convince Viktor to change his mind? Quite possibly not. Opportunity lost through poor timing. Such was the way of the Republic. Still, one defeat was but a slender catastrophe under the circumstances. For the first time, he’d matched Ebigail’s dance, and bested her. A shame he wasn’t sure whether to be proud or horrified.

“It didn’t go well?”

Lily slipped her hands about Malachi’s waist and rested her head on his back. He shut his eyes, blotting out the sun in favour of her embrace.

“Am I so easily read?” he asked.

“There’s a gargoyle on my father’s stables that looks exactly as you do at this moment.”

“So he’s a handsome fellow?”

“If one lusts after enormous teeth and a scowl fit to curdle milk.”

“Viktor refused the position.”

The weight vanished from his back. The hands remained. “And you’re angry with him.”

“Yes . . . No . . .” He sighed. “I can’t be. I turned it down too.”

He braced himself for the inevitable criticism. To his surprise, none came. Things really had changed between them. Slipping free of Lily’s hands, he turned around. He brushed his hand against her veil, careful to avoid the torn cheek beneath.

“You don’t have to wear that around me.”

Pale lips twitched a sad smile beneath black gossamer. “It’s not for your benefit. I just . . . want a little distance from the world.”

“You look like a serene.”

Sorrow turned wry. “Serenity is not my foremost trait at this hour.”

“I wish you’d let Sidara help you,” he said. “She brought Sevaka halfway out of the mists. I’m sure she could do something.”

“I don’t want her to.” Lily’s fingers closed about his wrist and pulled his hand away. “We’ve been too complacent, you and I. The scars will serve a reminder. Did Viktor truly kill Ebigail?”

“He says not. He says the kernclaw turned on her at the end.”

“Do you believe him?”

A harder question. Viktor would face no sanction either way. At worst, he’d saved the hangman’s fee. And yet Malachi still felt as though his friend hadn’t been entirely truthful. Then again, evasion was the order of the day.