Phryne could not believe what she was hearing. “You actually think I might agree to accept the blame for my father’s murder? That I might even consider for a single second removing all chance of seeing you pay for what you did.” She laughed. “I’m not the one who’s insane, Isoeld. Not so long as you talk like that!”

“Tell her the rest,” Teonette snapped.

Isoeld clasped her hands behind her back like a satisfied little girl and leaned forward, clearly enjoying the moment. “You didn’t ask me what I expected from you in payment for my generosity, Phryne. Don’t you want to know?”

“I don’t care what you want. It doesn’t make any difference because I’m not doing what you want.”

“Not even to save your grandmother’s life?”

Phryne went pale with shock. Mistral! If she could have managed to move she would have attacked her stepmother on the spot, but she was frozen in place by the implied threat contained in the other’s sly words. It took everything she had to stay calm, something she sensed instinctively she needed to do.

“What have you done with her, Isoeld? She’s an old lady, and she has nothing to do with any of this. She barely spoke to my father after Mother died. You know that. What point is there in threatening her?”

“The point should be obvious. I want you to do what I ask.”

“Well, I won’t. Not even to save her. She wouldn’t want it. She would hate me for it.”

Her stepmother glanced at the first minister in a decidedly conspiratorial way. “If they should decide to put you to death in the Elven Way—an act I will try to prevent, but may not be able to—you will wish you had been less difficult. But what if they put Mistral Belloruus to death, as well? What if evidence were to surface that she conspired with you to kill the King? What if it became known that she encouraged it, and she did so knowing that you, only a step from madness already, would act on her suggestion? Her fate would be sealed. Think about it. Death in the Elven Way is not something you want to face at any age. Let me see. They bind you securely and then they bury you headfirst in the ground. But they construct an air pocket around your head so that you have sufficient time to contemplate your bad behavior before the air runs out or the insects start feeding on you. You and Mistral would be placed side by side. Perhaps you could hear each other’s screams before your hearts gave out.”