Taru, born and bred in the Bottoms where gangs are little more than temporary bands of rabble scrounging for food, stops just short of laughing.

“But why?” Lexi demands. “Why would the Sicclunan government want to assassinate me, the wife of a middling statesman, let alone risk so much to do it? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Ginnix ignores the breadth of her reactions, remaining neutral.

“What I tell you now was until very recently a closely held state secret, and may come as quite a shock to you. Your husband, Brio, was in fact an agent of the Protectorate Ministry. He worked clandestinely for the Ministry in an effort to secure the trust of Crache’s enemies working within the Capitol to undermine our nation.”

Neither Lexi nor Taru know how to react to that. Taru looks down at their mistress, searching for some cue, but Lexi is silent and still.

“As I said,” Ginnix repeats, “I know this will come as a shock to you—”

Lexi bursts out laughing.

It’s loud and unrefined and wholly inappropriate, and Taru stares down at her as if Lexi has launched into convulsions.

Even Ginnix, the ghost attending her own funeral, appears taken aback.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Lexi manages through the fit, wresting it slowly under control. “Please, excuse me. It’s just… I feel as though it was yesterday the Gen Franchise Council, citing conclusive findings by your Ministry, attempted to declare my husband a traitor to Crache. Now, suddenly, he’s a hero of the nation working in the shadows to protect us from our enemies.”

“Collaborating with those enemies was part of Brio’s assignment,” Ginnix says.

That stamps out what’s left of Lexi’s laughing fit, leaving her pensive and more than a little uncertain.

“You’re telling me… Brio…”

“He was straddling both sides of the fence, as it were. It became necessary to paint him as a traitor for him to solidify the trust of the Sicclunans, who were beginning to grow suspicious of his motives. Making his treason a matter of public record was an extreme measure, but an undeniable one from their point of view.”

“Then where is he now?” Lexi asks, very near hysterics. “Where is Brio now? Is he here, in Crache? Is he in Siccluna? Will he be there for weeks or months or years? Where is he?”

Her voice is steadily rising, higher than Taru has ever heard it in such formal company.

Taru leans down, placing a gauntleted hand on Lexi’s shoulder. “Te-Gen—” they begin quietly.

“No!”

Lexi shakes free of Taru’s hand, violently, rising to her feet.

“I want to see my husband!” she all but screams at the Protectorate Ministry wraith.

“Brio is dead,” Ginnix states flatly with all the warmth of a tombstone in winter.

Those three words succeed where Taru failed, breaking Lexi free from her outburst.