“If King True is feeling charitable, he could simply demand restitution in return for a guilty plea. Though, with a charge as serious as this, it could mean the relinquishing of the Arbor, after, of course, you make other restitution to your wife.”

“The Arbor has been my family’s seat for nine generations,” he whispered.

“Again, please dress, sir.”

“I cannot lose my seat,” Johan told him.

“We can haul you out of here in that sheet,” the constable at the door entered the conversation. “Your choice, milord. But you got about a minute to make it before I do.”

It was no choice.

Johan hurried to dress, feeling anger and shame burning equally as neither member of the constabulary showed the slightest respect by even averting their eyes as he did it.

He had a handle on himself as, fully garbed, he walked their way.

“I demand a message sent immediately to my solicitor,” he declared.

“Sure,” the man in the door stated, shifting out of his way.

Johan stopped before he moved through it. “I also demand a word with my wife.”

He would talk some sense into the stupid woman.

“We can make the request, but she’s free not to grant it.”

He tipped his head back. “She’ll grant it.”

“To save you a burning disappointment,” the man in the door began, and Johan decided he did not like him very much, “she watched your performance through the window.”

“The window?”

The man pointed across the room.

Johan looked there to see the mussed bed overhung with the new looking glass at the wall at the head.

“You can see yourself on this side, we can see you on the other,” the man said.

Johan’s throat closed.

“And she could too,” the constable finished.

Vanka had…

Watched?

He felt his skin start itching.

He ignored this sensation and snapped, “Is this magic?”

“Nah, just a certain kind of silver.”

“This cannot be legal,” he bit out.

“I know no laws against it,” the constable that had entered the room tired of the conversation and shared this by coming to Johan and taking his elbow in his hand. “Though there are laws against spying on a visiting monarch for any reason not condoned by the king. That’s frowned on rather seriously,” he stated, leading Johan forcibly from the room.

“I can walk on my own,” Johan sniped. “And I wasn’t spying on Mars. I was keeping watch on my daughter.”

“Isn’t she the queen of an allied realm?” the first constable asked the second.

“Yup, heard she visited orphanages and rode in the royal wedding procession and everything,” the second constable answered. “I’d say that constitutes a ‘visiting monarch.’”

“I do not find this amusing,” Johan stated, trying to jerk his arm free.

He did not succeed.

Instead, the fingers around it tightened painfully and he was jerked to face the first constable. The one who had entered the room.