“I demand an explanation,” Count Drake said. Despite his limp, he somehow moved with authority. All eyes turned to him.

“We’re, we’re making an arrest, sir. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you,” the captain said. He was a thick little man with yellow skin and almond eyes, but it seemed to take all of his determination just to stand before the count and not be blown away.

“You’re attempting to arrest a duke, and you don’t have the authority to do that, Captain Arturian. By the third amendment to the common law in the eighth year of the reign of King Hurol II, the arrest of dukes of the realm must be justified by habeas corpus, two witnesses, and a motive. Incarceration requires two of those three.”

Captain Arturian swallowed and seemed to be holding his spine straight only by an act of will. “We, um, habeas corpus is holding the corpse? So I have to bring two witnesses or provide motive before you’ll let me arrest the duke?”

“If you have the corpse,” Count Drake said.

The man nodded. “We, uh, we do, sir. The prince’s body was found last night at the Jadwin estate, and the motive is a matter of . . . uh. It doesn’t bear speaking, sir.”

“If you attempt to arrest Duke Gyre at my home outside the provisions of the law, as a noble of the land, I have the right and the obligation to protect him with the force of arms.”

“We’d slaughter you!” one of the guards said, laughing.

“And if you did, you’d touch off civil war. Is that what you want?” Count Drake asked. The man who’d spoken fell silent, and Vin Arturian went gray. “Either produce a motive that would lead a man of known moral excellence like Duke Gyre to kill one of his best friends, or begone.”

“Milord,” Captain Arturian said, his eyes downcast. “Forgive me. The motive was jealousy.”

For some reason, Kylar’s eyes moved to Serah. She still looked stricken by the news, but as the captain grew more awkward, she seemed to shrink into herself, as if she knew what he was going to say next.

“Duke Gyre found out that the prince was having . . . sexual relations with your daughter.”

“That’s ludicrous!” Logan said. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. For godsake, she hasn’t even made love with me! Her fiancé! Aleine gets around, but he would never—”

Logan looked at Serah and never finished the sentence. “Serah, you . . . you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.” It was as if his soul had been stripped naked and all the darts in the world sank into it at once.

Serah keened, a sound of such woe it tore the heart, but none of the men moved. She ran away, back into the house, but they stood transfixed in Logan’s pain.