“I never knew her name, but her skin was white”—Var’s hand tightened on Tamin’s laevos—“splattered with black. White splattered with black. I’m sorry, Janel. I’m so sorry. She was an old woman with black-splattered skin. Please forgive me.”

“You—” I knew the game. Having described Dorna, Tamin would go on describing people. Perhaps Brother Qown next. Ninavis. Myself.

“That description sounds very familiar. Count, don’t you have a woman in your service like that?” The duke circled around us both, so focused on Tamin he seemed to miss the battle of gazes happening before him.

“Oh no, Duke,” I answered, keeping my voice light and sweet. “My nurse has black skin, not white.”

“Oh, right. I remember now.”

Relos Var’s mouth quirked. The bastard was trying not to laugh.

“My duke,” I said, still not able to break eye contact with Var. “I very much wish to attend the festivities tonight, but I’m afraid with the attack on Barsine, my formal wear and jewelry didn’t survive the journey. May I throw myself on your mercy and the generosity of your wardrobe?”

I didn’t plan to attend the festivities, you understand. I just didn’t know if Var would try anything here, if this would turn deadly. I wanted Lady Xun out of the way.

“Oh, my poor dear! Yes, I’m sure I can find something appropriate.” Lady Xun sniffed. “And you all have a great deal to discuss. With your pardon, my dear?”

“Did you want to leave now? It’s just getting exciting. Tamin’s naming the witches.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle that without me.” I heard her cloak fabric swirl as she left us.

Relos Var lifted his head. The bastard still smiled. “Shall I ask Tamin to continue with his accounting?”

Before the duke could speak, I did. “He’s been through enough. Besides, I would think the duke would like to hear my account.”

“Oh, that’s true, I would. By the gods, is there something wrong? You two are staring at each other like you’re about to draw swords or elope.”

So he had noticed after all.

Relos Var broke eye contact, as the duke’s words made him laugh outright, a deep pleasant laugh. “Oh no, my duke. I’m afraid the count is a bit young for my tastes. No offense.”

“None taken,” I murmured. “Although maybe that younger brother of yours is closer to my age. Did you bring him with you?”

Oh, so his brilliant control had a flaw. The glare he gave me was spite itself. I assumed then the situation with his “brother” hadn’t gone the way he’d have liked. I didn’t know if I should be happy or sad about that.