“I only knew him briefly,” she explained, not knowing why. She had never spoken about Emery to anyone before. “I’ve lived so much of my life alone. It never used to bother me and there’s never been anyone—until recently.”

Hilfred looked down and stirred the soup.

“He was killed. Since then, I’ve felt this hole. The other night I was so scared. I thought—no, I was certain—I was going to my death. I lost hope and then you appeared. I could really use a friend—and if you called me by—”

“I can’t be your friend, Your Highness,” Hilfred told her coldly.

“Why not?”

There was a long pause. “I can’t tell you that.”

A loud silence filled the room.

Arista stood, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. She stared at Hilfred’s back until it seemed her stare caused him to turn and face her. When he did, he avoided looking in her eyes. He set out bowls on the table. She stood before him, blocking his way.

“Hilfred, look at me.”

“The soup is done.”

“I’m not hungry. Look at me.”

“I don’t want it to burn.”

“Hilfred.”

He said nothing and kept his eyes focused on the floor.

“What have you done that you can’t face me?”

He did not answer.

The realization dawned on her and devastated Arista. He was not there to save her. He was not her friend. The betrayal was almost too much to bear.

“It’s true.” Her voice quavered. “You do believe the stories they say about me: that I’m a witch, that I’m evil, that I killed my father over my lust for the throne. Are you working for Saldur, or someone else? Did you steal me from the palace guards for some political advantage? Or is this all some plan to—to control me, to get me to trust you and lure me into revealing something?”

Her words had a profound effect on him. He looked pained, as if rained on by blows. His face was strained, his jaw stiff.

“You could at least tell me the truth,” she said. “I should think you owe that much to my father, if not to me. He trusted you. He picked you to be my bodyguard. He gave you a chance to make something of yourself. You’ve enjoyed the privilege of court life because of his faith in you.”

Hilfred was having trouble breathing. He turned away from her and, grabbing his scarf, moved toward the door.

“Yes, go—go on!” she shouted. “Tell them it didn’t work. Tell them I didn’t fall for it. Tell Sauly and the rest of those bastards that—that I’m not the stupid little girl they thought I was! You should have kept me tied and gagged, Hilfred. You’re going to find it harder to haul me off to the stake than you think!”