“I … I see.” Constance was shocked, but she didn’t do Winton the indignity of feigning grief. The Duchess had borne little love for Constance, the daughter of the Duke’s previous wife. The late Duchess had been a proud native of Duke’s Forest, while Constance’s mother, Patience, had been a foreigner. The late Duchess was the daughter of a minor noble, while Patience had been born to one of the great families of Valorian. And the Duchess had noticed Constance’s … strangeness … before anyone else, and made sure that Constance never forgot it. Even so, her heart ached for Winton. She knew what it was to lose a mother.

“I’m very sorry,” she said sincerely, squeezing Winton’s shoulder.

The people who had gathered in the courtyard were gazing at the small family reunion with mingled curiosity and expectation. They looked like a crowd of ghosts floating in the air, up to their knees in a thick sea of mist.

“For those of you who do not know me, I am Constance Rathbone. Firstborn of the Duke. Heir to the Forest,” she said, her voice loud and commanding. A ruse. She felt weak, her blood pumping fast and shallow. She spied the brown-coated man who had followed her father pushing through the crowd, a determined expression on his face. He slipped into an open doorway nearby.

The Duke stood by her side, holding on to her right arm like a frightened child. As she spoke, his eyes fixed on her face, a wide, wondering smile on his lips. He seemed oblivious to her trouble.

She clutched her cane with both hands to keep herself upright, feeling the strain in her gloves. The courtyard was silent and solemn.

She forced cheer into her voice. “Come, is this to be my welcome? It has been six years since I was last home. We shall throw a feast tonight to celebrate!”

A few murmurs broke out, an uncertain clatter of excitement. Constance beamed, trembling inside. “And tomorrow, at midday, we shall hold a Witenagemot—”

A door to the side of the courtyard opened with a click and swung wide, the fog skittering around it like an agitated animal. The man in the brown physician’s coat held the door, closely followed by a taller, broader figure dressed in the King’s black military uniform. He had straight silver hair tied flawlessly at his neck and a large mustache. The King’s Justice. She felt her fists clench tighter.