“Nothing that concerns you or your father,” Alva said. She remained standing, some primitive part of her brain insisting she stay ready to flee. Alain had been a perfect predator—a poisonous Prince Charming, with golden hair and white teeth and brilliant, flashing eyes, a textbook hero with the bite of an asp. She didn’t know Alfred as well, but she knew him well enough to imagine the inside matched Alain’s as much as the outside did.

“But everything you do concerns me,” he said, his voice gentle. “After all, we’re all you have left. I know your parents have been cold since your return—so sad they’ve let the scandal taint your relationship. I would never let that happen to us. Come home, dear Alva.”

Well. She hadn’t expected that. “Are you actually asking me to go live with you and your father?”

“But why not? Think what it would do for your reputation. After all, how much of a whore can you be if your husband’s family is willing to take you in after his death? Maybe your parents would even come around. If you were willing to live very quietly, that is.”

“Alfred,” she said, slightly hysterical laughter rising in her chest, “I can honestly say I would rather take up residence in Dante’s Ninth Circle of Hell.”

His muscles tensed, so subtly no one who hadn’t seen it before would recognize it, but enough that Alva took two steps back, until she was in front of the unlit fireplace. There was a heavy candlestick on the mantel; she knew where convenient weapons were in every room. Her skin was cold and clammy.

He stayed seated, though. The blow would come in some other way. “An interesting choice, the Ninth Circle,” he said softly. “The one for treachery, wasn’t it?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Ah, now you become biddable. Yes, ‘treacherous’ is an accurate word for you. You weren’t a very good wife to my poor brother. And of course, I said death parted you, but that’s not quite the truth, is it?”

Her voice was hoarse. “Unless you know something the Monte Carlo police don’t.”

He smiled, as though she’d pleased him. “An excellent way to put it,” he said. “Sit down, Alva. We have so much to discuss.”

“If you have something to say, say it. If not, it’s time for you to leave,” she said. They were in her house. The servants here were in her employ. They would come if she screamed. Not like before.

“Such hostility,” he said, chuckling indulgently. His body was still taut, ready to spring. “All right. To be precise, I know two things the police do not. I know you were in Monte Carlo that day, and I know you were attempting to get a divorce.”

The world froze.