‘Please… forgive Madam Stella… Your Imperial Majesty. It’s my fault. Only mine. Madam Stella has taught me… And prepared me well.’

‘I’ve noticed and appreciate that. Don’t worry, Stella Congreve isn’t in danger of my disfavour. And never has been. I was making fun of you. Reprehensibly.’

‘I noticed,’ whispered the girl, paling, horrified by her own audacity. But Emhyr just laughed. Somewhat stiffly.

‘I prefer you like that,’ he stated. ‘Believe me. Bold. Just like—’

He broke off. Like my daughter, he thought. A sense of guilt tormented him like a dog worrying at him.

The girl didn’t take her eyes off him. It’s not just Stella’s work, thought Emhyr. It really is her nature. In spite of appearances she’s a diamond that’s hard to scratch. No. I won’t let Vattier murder this child. Cintra is Cintra, and the interest of the empire is the interest of the empire, but this matter seems only to have one sensible and honourable solution.

‘Give me your hand.’

It was an order delivered in a stern voice and tone. But in spite of that he couldn’t help but get the impression it was carried out willingly. Without compulsion.

Her hand was small and cool. But wasn’t trembling now.

‘What’s your name? Just please don’t say it’s Cirilla Fiona.’

‘Cirilla Fiona.’

‘I feel like punishing you, girl. Severely.’

‘I know, Your Imperial Majesty. I deserve it. But I… I have to be Cirilla Fiona.’

‘One might suppose you regret you are not she,’ he said, not letting go of her hand.

‘I do,’ she whispered. ‘I do regret I am not she.’

‘Indeed?’

‘If I were… the real Cirilla… the emperor would look more favourably on me. But I’m only a counterfeit. A poor imitation. A double, not worthy of anything. Nothing…’

He turned around suddenly and grabbed her by the arms. And released her at once. He took a step back.

‘Yearning for a crown? Power?’ he was speaking softly, but quickly, pretending not to see as she denied it with abrupt movements of her head. ‘Honours? Accolades? Luxuries—’

He broke off, breathing heavily. Pretending he couldn’t see the girl still shaking her lowered head, still denying further hurtful accusations, perhaps all the more hurtful because of being unexpressed.

He breathed out deeply and loudly.

‘Do you know, little moth, that what you see before you is a flame?’

‘I do, Your Imperial Majesty.’

They were silent for a long time. The scent of spring suddenly made them feel light-headed. Both of them.

‘In spite of appearances,’ Emhyr finally said dully, ‘being empress is not an easy job. I don’t know if I’ll be able to love you.’

She nodded to show she also knew. He saw a tear on her cheek. Just like in Stygga Castle, he felt the tiny shard of cold glass lodged in his heart shift.

He hugged her, pressed her hard to his chest, stroked her hair, which smelled of lilies-of-the-valleys.