“We are contrary.” The Green Lady smiled the lethal, charming smile of a demoness. “We are devious. For we are the daughters of Eve. After all, it’s said we were formed from a crooked rib.”

“You said it.”

“However,” said the Green Lady, glancing at Reynevan under her eyelashes, “in spite of appearances, it isn’t so easy to delude us. Or seduce us. Ever since the Garden of Eden, we have been known to succumb to serpents, that’s true. But never snakes in the grass.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m a riddle. Solve me, Sir Jan.”

The gleam in Jan Biberstein’s eye dimmed as soon as it appeared.

“My esteemed Lady Cup-Bearer,” he said, stressing her title more than before, “is being playful. But it’s no time for mischief. Am I right, Lord of Bielawa? Or perhaps I’m mistaken? Perhaps you are joyous? Perhaps you think you’re out of the soup? Wriggled out of trouble like an eel? It’s a long way from that, believe me. Lucky for you, you didn’t impregnate my Kasia. But you fell on her like a brigand, and for that alone you ought to be quartered. Or, since you’re a heretic, you should be turned over to the bishop so he can roast you at a stake in Wrocław. Perhaps you wanted to say something, madam? Or am I mistaken?”

“You are.”

The door creaked and the matron entered the armoury. Without her cap. A little flushed. Chest heaving.

“Oh,” said Sir Jan, pleased. “So soon?”

Lady Biberstein glanced at her husband with forgiving superiority, went up to him and whispered into his ear for a long time. The longer she whispered, the more Sir Jan beamed.

“Ha!” he finally cried, beaming all over his face. “Young Wolfram Pannewitz! Ha,’pon my soul! I know him! He was wandering around Goleniowskie Forests, playing at being a knight errant. He must have chanced upon her when she fled from the strongbox… Ha, by a hundred horned devils! Why, I remember! And when he came here later, do you remember, wife, how he shot glances, flushed and slavered… Brought gifts! Ha! But there was no desire to wed! Now there will be. For he’s a decent match, my dear wife, quite decent. I’ll soon visit old Lord Pannewitz in Homole and we’ll converse, father to father, about our children’s japes. We shall converse about honour—”

He broke off, glanced at the Green Lady and Reynevan, as though astonished that they were still there. He scowled.

“I should—”

“You shouldn’t do anything,” the Green Lady interrupted sternly. “I shall deal with the matter. I’ll take him with me and leave right away.”

“Won’t you stop the night, m’lady? It’s a long way to Schönau—”

“I’m leaving right away. Farewell, Sir Jan.”