“Absolutely true,” Huon said with respectful firmness. She suspected he was also praying hard that his voice not break in midsentence. “He’s deeply in love with her.”

“Or in love with his expectations should he marry her,” the Regent said. “That would provide a strong motive for his heroics, if true. Many men are brave in their own service. But more to the point, Rudi Mackenzie says quite bluntly that he and all the rest would have died if Odard had betrayed them, which he had opportunity to do . . . and had opportunity to do in ways which would have been undetectable, and which would have furthered any ambitions he may have had with respect to my daughter. I have great respect for the Mackenzie tanist’s judgment and long close experience with it. Nor is he such a friend of Odard’s that he would shade the truth in such a matter.”

Silence fell for a long time; the room grew a little darker, and she could hear rain beating down on the windows. The Black Months were at hand here in the Willamette, drizzle and slate-colored skies and short fugitive days. The Lady Regent moved one finger slightly, and the gaslights were turned on by the guards, each with a small pop. The mantels began to glow behind the frosted-glass fronts, and the mirrors behind cast the light.

Yseult struggled to read the Regent’s smooth face and opaque eyes, and swallowed. Anything she said could kill her and Huon; but to stay silent was a hideous risk as well.

She’s always been so closed. It’s part of why she’s so dangerous.

Yseult fought for balance. Huon’s hand on her shoulder helped. What does the Regent want? she wondered. Shall I grovel? Will it help? Or retire to a convent and make a vow of chastity?

Then: No. It wouldn’t help. I can’t guess what she’s thinking but I can think clearly and use logic myself. And she’ll respect that, respect boldness and clear thought.

She nerved herself to speak evenly and quietly, her fear drying her mouth. “Lady; may we follow the pattern of our brother in courage and honesty. But also, not in the matter of frankness. Odard always played his cards close to his chest. I ask you openly, why are we a risk, two minor children?”

Another of those slight chilly smiles rewarded her, and a very small nod.

At least if we’re killed, it will be after we’ve gotten a little respect!