He wanted to take her in his arms. Fates help him, he wanted to kiss her, and not stop there. He knew she was his sister. Half-sister, anyway. He had never doubted it was true. But it did not feel true. He was as much in love with her as he had ever been. More, if anything.

But love is not always a solution. In this case, it was very much a problem.

“Goodbye,” he said. What else was there to say?

It was Jurand who appeared in the doorway first, staring into the cell with its bed, chair, table and instantly obvious lack of an imprisoned king.

He gave Savine a pained look. “What did you do?”

“What did you do, Your Highness,” corrected Savine, slipping the little box from her sleeve and taking a pinch of pearl dust up each nostril, feeling that invigorating burn, then that reassuring numbness spreading through her face to the back of her throat.

One generally heard Leo coming before one saw him. The click of his cane, the scrape of his metal foot, the slight squeak of the mechanism at the ankle. He really needed to get Curnsbick to apply a little oil. Jurand faded back to make room, started speaking softly to one of the other Anglanders.

“You let him go.” Leo stared into the cell in disbelief. “You let him go?”

“He let us go.” Savine calmly smoothed the front of her dress. “He let you go.”

“He let you go!” snarled Leo as he took one lurching step towards her. “He left me to rot with half my limbs in a stinking wagon!” He had lifted his cane as if he might strike her with the handle. She resisted the urge to flinch, instead turned her cheek towards him as if inviting him to do it. The way he used to do to her. It felt like a long time ago.

“He’ll be a thorn in our side for ever!” Leo got a grip, lowering his stick. “Where is he?”

“Judge couldn’t get a thing out of me,” said Savine. “Do you really think you will?”

“Don’t be so bloody dramatic! You’re my wife. You’re the mother of my children. Of the real king, in fact! We’re on the same side.”

“Really? I’m not so sure!”

She had raised her fist to shake it in his face and Leo noticed the rolled-up paper she was gripping. “What’s this?”

“Nothing.”

“Show me,” he said, tossing his cane aside and making a clumsy grab for it.

She hid it behind her back. “No.”

“Give it to me, damn it!” He caught her under the arm, making her gasp. He might only have one hand, but its grip was as strong as ever. She tried to twist free, dragging him off balance. He only stayed standing by clinging on to her, his dead weight almost pulling her over. He growled with effort as he took another lurching step, iron ankle squeaking, pressing her against the wall, elbow of his useless arm jabbing into her corset as he made another grab at her hand.