Leo flinched. “Far better than her son.”

“You’d have a hard time arguing otherwise.”

He knew he couldn’t deny it. Being in his mother’s shadow used to feel unbearable. Now he saw how lucky he’d been to have her. He took a hard breath and drew himself up. “I’m sorry, Jurand. I’m… I’m very sorry. For the way it all turned out. If you’d been with me, at Stoffenbeck, things would’ve been… well.” He frowned down at his leg. At his crutch. “I was a fool.”

Jurand didn’t break out the long-suffering smile he always used to find at Leo’s latest recklessness. The only hint of warmth in his face were the spots of colour from the heat of the fire after the chill outside.

“You’re right for once,” he snapped. “You were a fool. A selfish fool, and one hell of a poor friend.” Leo blinked. He’d known he needed to apologise. He’d never supposed Jurand might not accept it. “I always thought you knew, deep down. Honestly, I always thought…” He trailed off, hands opening and closing, frowning hard at the floor.

Leo’s mouth was very dry. “Thought what?”

“Who cares what I thought. I’m as big a fool as you are, in my own way.”

Leo took an awkward step towards him, his metal ankle squeaking. Wanted to reach out, comfort him, but he didn’t have the limbs for it. “You’re about the cleverest man I know—”

“At least my stupidity didn’t get anyone killed.” Now Jurand looked up again, and so bitterly Leo had to take that awkward step back. “Remember when there were seven of us?”

Leo was left frozen, his mouth slightly open. It was a long time since he’d thought of the happy brotherhood who’d gone to war with him. Risked their lives for him. Most of his energy went into finding ways to do what used to be easy, the rest into twisting the future into a shape he could live with.

“Ritter,” said Jurand, “Barniva, Jin, Antaup, Glaward, me and you.”

Each name was like a slap. Leo took another wobbling step back, and his stump twisted in the socket of his false leg, and the stab of pain made his knee buckle. His crutch clattered down, but he caught the arm of a chair, managed to sag into it.

“They chose to fight,” he whispered.

“They chose to follow you, and you led them to their deaths.”

“I miss them,” said Leo. “I miss them like my leg and my arm.” He missed them almost as much as he’d missed Jurand. Now that he thought about them. “But I can’t bring them back… any more than you can take back what you did… in Sipani.”

And that familiar image came up, of Jurand and Glaward, pressed against each other, half-naked on their knees, and Leo winced at the rush of painful excitement that always came with it, worse than ever with his old friend right in front of him.

He looked even angrier, now. “Who says I want to take it back?” he snarled. “You wouldn’t understand! You’ve never had to hide a thing in your life. You’ve always said and done whatever you pleased. However hurtful. However ignorant. You’ve been celebrated for it! How blunt! How manly! Well, it’s a new world now, I hear. We all have to live with things we don’t like.”