“I’m undressed, Father,” Gawain protested, frantically motioning for Emry to hide.

Emry pressed herself behind the wardrobe, heart pounding. And she was just in time. Lord Agravaine ignored Gawain’s warning, pushing open the door.

“You seem perfectly dressed to me,” he observed coolly.

Emry’s heart pounded against her rib cage like a frantic, wild thing. She could just make out the corner of his dark coat, and the edge of his sleeve. She hoped he wouldn’t walk past the flimsy screen that separated the solar from the dressing room. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, and the man was bound to notice. But then, she hadn’t had much warning.

“Well?” Gawain said impatiently. “You needed something?”

“The prince was poisoned,” Lord Agravaine accused. “That’s why you withdrew from the contest.”

“How did you find out?” Gawain asked.

“I have my ways,” Lord Agravaine said silkily. “It’s strange that Arthur forgot to mention he’d been poisoned when he spoke with the king. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Not really. He’s recovered now.”

“And I wonder why that might be,” said Lord Agravaine. “It really is convenient, the way Merlin keeps turning up whenever there’s trouble.”

“So does Jereth,” Gawain shot back. “Yet he’s presumed innocent even when he’s guilty.”

The room went still and cold. Emry remembered the bruise on Gawain’s cheek, and his terse explanation of how he’d gotten it. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed her shoulders, waiting.

“In regard to Jereth, I don’t believe it prudent to keep your brother at the castle much longer,” said Lord Agravaine. “There was an incident with his horse—”

“I warned you about that.”

“One of the grooms had to be paid off. I’ve arranged for him to spend some time studying at a monastery outside Paris. You’ll accompany him there, see him settled, and return to your responsibilities overseas. You’ll leave within the week.”

“But, Father—”

“If Princess Anne is betrothed to King Yurien’s son, it could spell disaster for us all. You will make sure the boy is not considered a suitable option. At any cost. You have your orders. I expect you to follow them without complaint.”

“Anything else?” Gawain asked sourly.

“Not at the moment. But if there is, I’ll certainly let you know.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Gawain muttered.

Emry heard the door close, and Gawain loosed a sigh.

“Hi,” she called. “You okay in there?”

“Just contemplating garroting myself with my cape.”

“That poor cape,” Emry replied. “Thought it was going to a ball, but instead it’s a funeral.”

Gawain snorted. “All right, I’m coming in,” he insisted. “You better be dressed by now.”