«Yes! Inside the very Conclave! It’s unthinkable! Cornel and Julia are hiding it from the public, but if it can happen there it can happen anywhere! He’s in such danger! Anywhere He goes they want to kill Him! Our dear, darling Child! I can’t stand it! Majesty, I think I shall collapse from fear!»

Madame made good on her threat, collapsing in the king’s arms, which knew from practice just where at the bodice’s edge to grab and catch her as she fell.

«Madame, you should not be here.» He rotated her body so she faced toward him, and away from us. «How did you get here?»

It was a fair question. Over His Majesty’s shoulder I spotted servants, some in the king’s livery, some in suits, all sheepish at their failure. She should not have been here, and, as the duke shuddered beside me, I knew how completely her presence spoiled his promised sanctuary. La Almudaina would have been perfect for Ganymede, an ancient fortress-palace on the island of Majorca off the Eastern coast of Spain, long in Spain’s family, with sandy stone, arched walks, and battlemented towers overlooking palm trees and calm waves, all warmed by a vigilant but temperate sun. Here on Majorca’s shores, watched by Spain’s private guard, the fallen duke president would enjoy the same sort of dignified exile as Napoleon and the many fallen kin of ancient Caesars. Now, instead of the Mediterranean’s healing kiss, there was only the floral syrup of Madame’s perfume.

«Oh!» she screamed, flinging herself past Spain, toward us. «My Ganymede! My poor!» English fails here to capture her wailing French. «What have those barbarians done to you!»

The duke lacked speech still, but I saw the healthy flash of murder refresh itself in his eyes. I don’t believe this hate was for his own downfall. Madame had knowingly let Danaë’s destroyer, Merion Kraye, parade through Parliament, through Paris, even enter Ganymede’s own palace, shielded by a new face and the pseudonym Casimir Perry. Would Hector have forgiven Helen had he learned about the time the wily destroyer Odysseus—vulnerable and alone—crept into Troy to spy, and Helen recognized him but let him sneak back out again, and told no one? Odysseus’s death might have saved Troy, and Perry’s might have… no, I dare not speculate. Even with the war less than six weeks away, I dare not guess which side is Troy.

His Majesty Isabel Carlos II caught Madame by her corseted waist before she could assail invalid Ganymede with kisses. «I told you to stay at Las Huelgas.» His stern eyes turned on his guards, who bowed apologies from the periphery.

Madame’s smile was frantic and warm at once. «My love, how could I stay away? With our Son threatened? And my dear Ganymede barely alive thanks to this unforgivable treatment? How could I not come at once?»