“Gratitude?” she whispered.

“I did it all for you. So you could truly rule. All your life, we’ve been preparing you for this.”

“My mother knew what you were planning?”

“It was her idea in the first place. One of her best.”

Savine did not often find herself at a loss for words. She slowly stepped back, pointing at her father with a trembling hand. “Because… I was King Jezal’s bastard. You knew all along… if Orso could be removed, I could be put in his place!”

“Your parentage was not a choice we made.”

“Only something you turned to your advantage!”

“To everyone’s advantage!” he barked, wheeling himself towards her. “Put aside your pique, Savine, this was war. In war one must make use of every weapon. Restraint is folly. Worse. Restraint is cowardice. You can give us a better Union. A better world! The horrors of the Great Change have left people pliable. Desperate for strong leadership. You are loved as much as I was hated, and the banks are torn up by the roots. We will finally have a free hand!”

“We?” she whispered.

“Your son will be king, but he will need your guidance.” He gripped her arm, and there was strength in those thin fingers. A grasping strength. “And you will need mine.”

Savine stared at him, cold all over. “You freed us from Bayaz…”

“Yes!”

“So you could become Bayaz.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That is unfair.”

“You’re right.” She twisted her arm free, taking another step back. “He only destroyed half the Agriont for his own ambitions. You destroyed half the Union!”

“You were willing to destroy a sizeable chunk of it for the sake of your ambitions, as I recall. You and your husband’s revolt against the crown nearly ruined everything.”

She gave a disbelieving gasp. “Was my mistake that I spoiled your efforts to burn down the world? Or that I didn’t burn down enough of it?”

“Both,” he said.

“I should have denounced you, in the Court of the People,” whispered Savine. “I should have denounced you to hell.”

“You should have. It might have improved your situation and could not possibly have done me any harm. That is the kind of sentimental mistake I can help you avoid in future. You have a struggle ahead of you, Savine.” He gave the painting a significant glance. “Your husband may prove more difficult to control than anyone imagined. We cripples have a habit of surprising people. And freeing Orso was a blunder you may well regret. Then there are the nobles, and the commoners, and the Styrians, and the Imperials, and the Gurkish will not stay down for ever…” Enemies stretching off ahead of her, enough to fill a lifetime. “The time will come, sooner than you think, when you will need my support.”

She would have loved to tell him to fuck himself. At that moment, she would have loved to punch him out of his chair. But although her eyes were narrowed, and her fist clenched to do it, she did not indulge herself. Savine had taken many roles over the momentous past year or two, or had them forced upon her. A helpless fugitive, a desperate killer, a disappointed lover, a wife and a partner, a rebel and a traitor, a forger of alliances, a mother to twins, a benefactor to orphans, the wretched accused, the terrified convicted, the Darling of the Slums and the Mother of the Nation. A journey of giddy rises, horrifying falls and wild reverses that could leave no one the same. But, above all, Savine had always been a woman of business. And a woman of business cannot afford to be a slave to her passions. She has to be realistic, and plan for the long term. She must take the world as it is and look for the best deal.