His hands were up, palms down, his approach slow as if to a cornered animal. ‘For the first time in as long as I can remember, for a while at least, we are safe. Does that count for nothing?’

‘No true safety exists in this city.’

‘Corvel and his confessors will be held, maybe even routed. Things in the south will escalate. And even if they’re not—’

‘For the last time, Gar, this is not our problem to solve!’ She waved a hand at Tarfel without looking at him. ‘Even princeling himself isn’t certain he wants to challenge his brother, it’s written in the sweat of his pallor. Maybe “safety” is good enough for him. But this place isn’t safety, it’s a trap, a pit. They will scheme and they will plot and they will use us then throw our husks to the wolves at the gate. Did we learn nothing? What happened to Whisper can happen to any of us, and the closer to this insanity we are, the closer to alchemy and witchfire, posture and plotting, the greater the chances.’

‘You’re saying “us”, but—’

She wheeled on Rennic. ‘You want to face the confessors, don’t you? Kill Corvel, save the kingdom.’ She threw up her hands. ‘What are you trying to prove, Gar?’

Rennic’s placatory demeanour vanished. ‘We’ll fix nothing by running away. We’re staying, that’s final.’

‘I’ll make my own choices, Gar Rennic.’

‘We’re. Staying.’

A throat cleared at the doorway. A different seneschal stood there, a study in precise uninterest. ‘At his earliest convenience, the Exalted Keeper requests the presence of Prince Tarfel and his retainers in the upper gallery.’ The seneschal filed away before she could hear anything that might incriminate her.

‘Aye, well, that didn’t take long, eh? The matter must be resolved already.’

Loveless hadn’t moved, and when she spoke it was with the growl of a feral beast. ‘You stay if you want, old man. But don’t count on me sticking around.’

TWENTY-SEVEN

Kosh was already on the upper tier, in huddled, whispered conversation with Matil in the shadow of a wide stone archway leading onto the gantry, long curtains curling at their feet in the reflected breeze. She barely acknowledged their presence when the seneschal led them out from the stairway, although the scowl that rode Matil’s features at her sight of Loveless was unmissable.

Chel caught up with Tarfel as he hovered uncertain, awaiting the Keeper’s arrival. ‘Tarf, was it true what Loveless said back there? About not being sure you want to challenge your brother?’

Guilt overrode the prince’s expression, his cheeks flushed, and he swallowed. ‘Ah, well, Vedren, if I were completely honest …’

‘Of course you can be honest with me, Tarf.’

‘… then I would say that, on some level, I have some doubts about our course of action.’

‘What do you mean?’