Iseult saw no reason to resist. Her legs had gone numb, and a glacier now leaked through her veins. Nothing made sense. Nothing felt real.

Aeduan turned to Owl next. “Get up.” He shifted as if to grab her.

But Iseult touched his sleeve. “She doesn’t speak Arithuanian.”

A twinge of surprise crossed his face and Threads. He peered down at Owl again, but this time with cold assessment. “That collar blocks her, I suppose. Perhaps a good thing. For us and for her.” His gaze returned to Iseult. “Get her up, and get her on a horse. We have far to go before the sun sets.”

“So you have taken a lover,” Henrick drawled. He sat upon his too-tight throne with his too-tight crown, Safi seated in her own throne beside him. Their daily session at court had not yet begun. “It took you long enough.”

Safi choked. Then shook her head. She must have misheard. “Forgive me?”

“It took,” he repeated impatiently, “you long enough. Everyone was expecting it—though I doubt they were expecting it with my nephew.”

Safi wet her lips. Of course Henrick knew of her affair with Leopold. He’d suggested it. Nonetheless, she had not expected him to discuss it so directly. Her fingers tapped against her lap. At the opposite end of the room, supplicants and sycophants lined up. Some were tattered, some were opulent. Henrick would listen to each of them equally.

“Is the imperial prince … a problem?” she asked eventually.

“No. Having an affair will give you something to do.” Henrick offered a bland sideways smile. “Perhaps if you are physically engaged, you will look less…” A sniff, a wave at her face. “Sullen.”

Safi’s fingers tapped faster. Do not punch him, do not punch him. Not that she would leave much damage before he reached that glistening chain at his waist and rained frozen hell upon her.

“Speaking of physical engagement,” she said, as elegantly poised as any domna, “I was hoping perhaps I might train with the Hell-Bards. I have heard they practice in the lower levels of the new wing.”

Henrick shifted in his throne and stared at Safi. She stared right back, while on the floor, the first Cartorran was rushing forward to speak.

She knew there was great risk in her request. Her noosing was not public knowledge, and training with soldiers was hardly the thing empresses did. But ever since Caden had said those words to her in the entryway, Toward death with wide eyes, and each Hell-Bard had replied …

She couldn’t get the notion out of her head that she needed to train with them. How else was she going to understand this chain around her neck? Besides, her muscles would atrophy if she did not use them soon. She was a swordswoman who hadn’t touched a sword in weeks.