A younger woman—presumably Veixizhau—whipped her head round to glare at the woman who’d spoken. She stepped forward. “I left after Segra delivered her food, my husband, but I must say Janel seemed unhappy. Is it possible she didn’t want to be here? The young man is a sorcerer, is he not? Could he not have helped her escape?”

It took Brother Qown several seconds before he realized young man meant him.

“I haven’t seen—”

The guard hit him.

Brother Qown put his hand to his face. His jaw ached with a dull throb.

“Let him answer,” the duke said.

Brother Qown tried to stand a second time. He felt a hand on his arm; Thurvishar had stepped forward to help him. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

Brother Qown wiped the blood on his mouth against his agolé. “With all respect, Your Grace, I haven’t seen the count for at least…” And then his mind blanked. Had a day passed? Two? How many? He’d lost track. “And I’m quite unable to even contemplate, uh…” He paused. “Escape is impossible.”

“For you,” said Duke Kaen, “but perhaps not for her.”

“Maybe she climbed out the window,” Veixizhau suggested.

“And what?” Thurvishar asked. “Slid down a castle wall in the middle of a blizzard while wearing nothing but a slip? I doubt she’d be strong enough for such a climb in winter gear.”

“You’re both wizards,” she snapped. “What did you do with her?”

“We aren’t allowed in your apartments.”

“Enough!”

Everyone fell quiet at the duke’s voice. He walked forward, boots echoing against the marble floor. He stopped before several men—all of whom had been present when Darzin D’Mon burned Brother Qown’s journal. Darzin himself was evidently back in the Capital.

“Son,” the duke said to Exidhar, “do you have anything to do with this? I understand the woman embarrassed you, but she’s important to my plans.”

“The priest’s probably lying,” Sir Oreth interrupted. “He’s always protecting her—” The knight went silent as the duke met his eyes.

Kaen returned his attention to his son.

Brother Qown found himself holding his breath. If Exidhar or any of his friends had been involved in Janel’s disappearance, Exidhar seemed the most likely to confess. If he convinced his father that Brother Qown possessed an overactive imagination, or worse, was covering for Janel’s escape, he was in trouble.

Oh, it made Qown shake just to consider how this might end for him, never mind how it might have already ended for Janel.

“Well?”

Exidhar blinked, then gave a panicked glance at his friends.

“Father, I—” He licked his lips. “I wasn’t involved, I swear. I didn’t know—” He glanced over at the wives.

The duke sighed. “What you mean is, you didn’t know, but your friends did.” With no warning, he turned and grabbed Sir Oreth by his laevos.