The witch sighed. “Look, Yor is … provincial in its views about women. Even compared to the Capital, which is saying something. Women of a certain age are expected to be married. It’s a matter of religion, believe it or not. We’ve had to work around these quaint local customs. You’re going to need to adapt too.”

“Are you suggesting I need to be married? Who did you have in mind as this partner?” I gestured toward Brother Qown. “Him?”

She grimaced. “No. Definitely not. Here it’s acceptable to murder a man for his wife. Well, not acceptable … the Hon has outlawed the practice. But it happens. Our dear Brother Qown wouldn’t last long if we told everyone you two are husband and wife. It needs to be someone no one dares try to kill.”

“If you say Sir Oreth—”

“Hmm, not a bad idea,” Senera agreed, “but I’m not supposed to let him die either.”

I crossed my arms, remembering the conversation where Khored promised me Relos Var wouldn’t kidnap a woman and take her by force. “So you mean Relos Var, then.”

Senera shrugged. “I’ve been ‘married’ to Relos Var for five years. All for show. You won’t even suffer the indignity of a ceremony.”

“How considerate.” I rolled my eyes.

“I wanted to warn you,” Senera continued, “so when Relos Var introduces you to the Hon as his wife, you don’t do something rash. Polygyny is legal here, so no one will question Relos Var taking another bride.”

“What are you going to do with Brother Qown?” I asked.

“Relos Var’s new assistant,” Senera said. “No one needs to know what he really is: our hostage for your good behavior.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I protested. “I’ll behave. Let him go.”

She tapped me on the cheek. “Finish dressing. It’s time you meet the rest of the rebellion.”

But Brother Qown had his own plans. We both turned as we heard the Vishai priest retching all over the floor, just before he collapsed.

34: THE ONLY WAY OUT

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days (sort of) since Talon gave Thurvishar a magic rock

Brother Qown cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I, uh … I don’t have good notes for the next part.”

Janel seemed surprised. “What? But you—” Then she stopped herself. “Oh.”

Kihrin raised an eyebrow. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t write down much of what happened next,” Brother Qown admitted. He opened his book. “I’ll read what I have, but then you should take back over, Janel.”

She nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Qown’s Turn. The Ice Demesne, Yor, Quur.

Brother Qown spent the first few hours after his gaeshing giving serious consideration to the benefits of killing himself.