First of all, she stripped, throwing the ruined, bloody shirt into the corner. Her trousers were only spotted with blood, and would probably serve. There was a washcloth beside the basin, and after filling her glass again she set about using the rest of the water to get herself clean. Cleaner, anyway. Once she’d gotten rid of the worst of the bloodstains and rinsed her hands in the now-pink water, she put her trousers back on and stripped the sheet off the bed to wear like a cloak.

That accomplished, she made a thorough search of the room, in case there was something useful she’d missed. All this turned up was a copy of the Wisdoms bound in soft leather, forgotten under the bed by some pious butler. Raesinia leafed through a few pages at random, then decided she wasn’t in the mood for theological study and left the book on the bed.

She was making a second circuit, paying particular attention to the wallpaper in case there was a loose bit of plaster somewhere, when the door lock clicked open. She turned, clutching her makeshift garment at the neck, and tried to put on a queenly manner. The door open to reveal Maurisk, dressed in his usual severe blacks and grays, wearing an embroidered sash indicating his position as a deputy with extra embellishments to show his position in the Directory as well. Two Patriot Guards with muskets flanked him, but he stepped through the door and waved them away.

“Lock it,” he said. “We’re not to be disturbed.”

The guards saluted, and the door slammed. Maurisk stared at Raesinia, rage boiling in his eyes. He was swaying slightly, she noted. Is he drunk?

“It’s generally considered proper to bow to your queen,” Raesinia said.

Maurisk’s lip twisted into a snarl. He crossed the room in two quick steps, grabbed the edges of the sheet, and tore it away from her shoulder, exposing her breast. She felt his eyes on her, and her throat went thick.

“I never thought you were the sort,” she managed, letting the sheet fall away completely. She resisted the urge to cover herself with her hands. Being dressed and undressed by servants her whole life had left Raesinia with very little modesty on her own account, but being half-naked in front of Maurisk made her feel small and vulnerable. She stood up straighter and looked him in the eye. “Well?”

He reached out with his left hand, resting it on her shoulder. Her skin crawled, but she remained still. A step closer, and I can go for his eyes.

Maurisk’s other hand emerged from his pocket, holding a long, thin blade. Raesinia barely had time to flinch before he struck, punching the tip of the knife into the soft skin under her breast, angled upward to slice through the lung and find her heart.