She found she’d stepped close to Savine, found she was looking her right in the eye, found that, for once, she was being honest. “Just… tell me it’ll be better.” Her throat felt tight, like she still had Corporal Smiler’s hands around her bruised neck. “It doesn’t have to be some paradise.” She had to force the words through gritted teeth. “But it can’t all be for nothing, you understand? It can’t.”

It was quiet, in that shabby corridor, for a moment. The Lady Regent blinked at Vick as if she saw her for the first time. Then she gently nodded. “I understand. And I will do my best.”

“Good.” Vick cleared her throat. “Good.” She turned away, trying to swallow that lump in her throat, wiping her eyelids with a knuckle. Tallow stood against the wall, staring at her like he’d seen Euz rise from the grave. “What?” Vick snarled at him.

“Nothing,” he squeaked.

She set her jaw and gripped the door-handle. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

She’d never had much dislike for the prisoners. Even disapproval was an effort these days. But for this one she could make an exception.

“There are still some men it’s a pleasure to hang,” she said, planting her fists on the scarred tabletop.

Spillion Sworbreck cringed in his chair, stripped naked, cheeks tracked with the tears he’d notably failed to cry on behalf of all those he’d sent to the long drop.

“Inquisitor, please,” he babbled, “you are a woman of the world. You understand the position I was in, the compromises that had to be made. I am, I freely admit, a weak man. I have always been so easily led! Swept up by great passions and powerful personalities like a leaf on the wind! I am pleading with you. I am begging you—”

“No point asking my forgiveness,” said Vick. “I’m not allowed any. You might have more luck with her.” She nodded towards the door. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Oh,” he said, in a very small voice, as the Lady Regent swept in with chill majesty. “Oh dear.” She arranged herself on the Inquisitor’s chair with a rustling of expensive silk while Sworbreck shrank further and further into his seat, chains faintly clinking. If he could’ve sucked his head into his shoulders like a turtle, Vick imagined he would’ve.

“He was caught at the docks,” she said. “Trying to get out of the city disguised as a woman. One of the few people in the Circle of the World who can safely say they look worse than me in a dress.”

“Lady Savine…” His eyelids fluttered and fresh tears ran down his face. “Lady Regent, I beg of you—”

“Shut,” hissed Savine furiously through her gritted teeth, “your fucking mouth.” She closed her eyes, composing herself, took a breath, then opened them, flinty hard. “Understand… the restraint it takes on my part not to see you dragged up the Tower of Chains and flung to your death.”