Leo gave an unhappy grunt. “Well. On that we can all agree.”

“Four chairs on the Closed Council is fair.” After everything that had happened, it was far more than they could have hoped for. “We will provide the Anglanders, and the ex-lords of the Open Council, and the People’s Army.”

Leo took a breath and sighed noisily through flared nostrils. “Great tempests wash up strange companions, Farans said.”

“Never had you down for a philosopher,” said Teufel.

“I’ve been catching up on my classics.”

The inspector gave a sharp little nod. “Then we all have lots of work to do. I’ll see myself out.”

The door clicked shut. Harod had stopped feeding, his head rolled back, mouth open, a dribble of milk on his chin. Savine lifted him, carried him to the nursery, softly lowered him into his cot, chewing her lip with concentration as she slid her hands out from under him and left him beside his sister.

She looked down at them, both sleeping. Ardee on her side, one long-lashed eye closed and her mouth wide open. Harod on his back, tiny hands palm-up as if he was surrendering. So small. So perfect. So vulnerable. She remembered something her father once told her. Being a parent means always being afraid. Afraid for your children. Afraid of your children.

When she turned from pulling the nursery door ever-so-gently closed, Leo was watching her.

“So we’re in bed with King Orso now, are we?”

Savine winced. Did he really have to use that phrase? “We are taking the best chance to bring this nightmare to an end.” And perhaps to repair a fraction of the damage they had done. “We can’t trust Judge, Leo, you know that.”

“She likes me well enough.”

She winced even more at that. He could only be saying it to annoy her. “For now, perhaps. You are a likeable fellow.” When he chose to be. “But once she has thrown everyone she hates off the Tower of Chains she will start on the people she likes. That’s what she is.”

He frowned down at his stump, scratching gently at the scars. “I daresay you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

“It’s a gamble, though.”

“The way things are going, the bigger gamble would be to do nothing. We are living on borrowed time. Anyone who used to be powerful. Anyone who is powerful. All of us.”

Leo let his head drop back, looking at her down his nose. “We fought against Orso.”

“That was then.”

He had that cruel look now. That bitter, jealous look. “Do you still love him?”

Again, the urge to slap him. “I never loved him,” she lied.

“Not even as a brother?”

This time she wanted to punch him. She realised her fist was clenched to do it. But she made it open. The satisfaction would not have lasted long. And she could let him be angry. She had all her limbs, after all.

She slipped one knee down beside him. “What can I do… to prove it?” And she worked her other knee onto the settle so she was straddling him.