Not worth it? So Kyra’s life was now just a point of compromise. It was hard enough to hear it from Willem, but to hear the same thing from Malikel…Tristam stared at Malikel’s back as his commander strode away. The Council was wrong. Kyra had taken a risk for the city, and now they were abandoning her to the barbarians. She didn’t deserve that, no matter what her crimes.

As he crossed the courtyard, he saw Flick walking toward him. Kyra’s friend had known Tristam was going to appeal to Willem, and the hopeful look in his eyes made Tristam feel ill.

“Flick.” He just wanted to get the bad news out as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry. The Council won’t reconsider its decision.”

Confusion flashed across Flick’s face. “Why not?”

“They think it’s too dangerous.”

Tristam watched Flick’s jaw work as the news sank in and he went through the same range of emotions that Tristam had just experienced.

“They can’t—” Flick began.

“I’m sorry,” Tristam said roughly. He was already angry at Willem’s decision, and hearing Flick’s complaints wasn’t helping. “The Council’s decided. There’s nothing more I can do.”

He had been looking away from Flick and didn’t see him raise his fist. As it was, Tristam was a hair too late to duck out of the way. Lights exploded in front of his eyes, and he stumbled back. “What by the Three Cities do you think you’re doing?”

“So this is your knights’ idea of honor? Use a lass for your own devices and throw her to the barbarians when you’re done?”

Shouts of alarm echoed through the courtyard and soldiers came running. As Tristam caught his breath, Red Shields surrounded Flick, knocking him to the ground before dragging him back onto his feet. Tristam put a hand to his still throbbing temple, his own temper flaring. “I’ve no more patience for you, Flick. I’ve broken rules, gone before the Council on your behalf to get Palace protection for you and your wards, and all I’ve gotten from you is—”

“Of course. I’m supposed to be grateful.” Flick strained against the Red Shields holding him. “Kiss your shoes because you used us as bargaining chips with Kyra. Thank you, generous sirs.”

“That’s enough.” Tristam curled his hands into fists and closed the distance between them.

Flick glared at him, unflinching. “You go on about honor and service, but you care more for your own skin.”

Tristam stopped short at Flick’s words. For a long moment, he stood, breathing heavily, fists clenched at his sides. “Take him to his room,” he finally said, his voice cold. “And make sure he stays there.”