they listen.”

Isyllt laughed grimly. Her prayers were spread thin these days, and she knew the sort of answer she was likely to receive.

Nikos wasn’t in his chambers, and rather than hunt him through the palace Savedra settled in to wait. His room was cold, the air heavy with ash and incense-he didn’t often pray, but the doors of his shrine were open now, the burners streaked with ashes. She hoped the saints were listening.

She knelt in front of the cabinet, letting the scent of sandalwood and myrrh ground her as she gathered her wits. She’d waited too long to tell him and the story had grown too convoluted. A coup she could understand, even Varis’s misguided need for revenge on the Alexioi, but demons and stolen corpses-

Footsteps broke the spiral of her thoughts and she straightened her shoulders. The connecting door to Ashlin’s suite swung open, and Nikos entered with the princess at his heels. Savedra’s carefully planned explanations crumbled in surprise, and she drew back into the shadows to regroup. Neither of them turned in her direction.

“What is it?” Nikos asked when the door was latched behind them. His face was drawn, his voice strained. He inspected a bottle of wine on the sideboard before he poured, and Savedra smiled in approval-she’d insisted he seal all his bottles, and always check them before he drank.

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” Ashlin said slowly, waving aside an offered goblet. “I know this isn’t a good time for distractions.”

“You’re my wife,” he said with an exasperated laugh. “You’re allowed to distract me whenever you wish. Some might even encourage it.”

Ashlin didn’t so much as smile. Savedra knew she ought to speak before she eavesdropped further, but her tongue was frozen.

“I’m pregnant.”

Nikos’s mouth opened and closed again. “Are you sure?” Savedra felt as though she’d turned to stone.

“This is the third time. I know the signs.”

He drank before he spoke. “Forgive me,” he said after a long swallow, “but-”

Her mouth twisted. “But how can that be, when we haven’t shared a bed since I lost the last one?”

Savedra’s hands ached, clenched white-knuckled in her skirts.

“I would never accuse you….”

“It’s true, though. It isn’t yours. I’m sorry.” She squared her shoulders, a soldier facing discipline. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I won’t dishonor the oaths I swore any further by lying. I know the odds are poor that I’ll keep it any longer than the others, but I thought you should know. If you wish to begin divorce proceedings-”

“Slow down, please. You’re making my head spin.” He set his goblet aside. “Most state marriages last at least five years before public scandal and divorce. But if you’re that unhappy….” All of them flinched at the hurt in those last words. More than injured pride, and Savedra’s chest ached; he loved Ashlin after all, or something close. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me whose it is? As long as it’s not my father, I think I could stand to hear anything.”

That drew an outraged laugh, but Ashlin sobered quickly. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to say.”

“No,” Savedra said slowly, pushing herself off her knees. “But it is mine.”

They both startled. Nikos’s goblet teetered on the sideboard and fell, spraying wine across the carpet with a metallic thunk; Ashlin groped at her belt for an absent blade. She flushed as Savedra stepped out of the shadows. “Vedra-”

“My place,” she went on, cutting her off. “My place, and my child.”

Nikos blinked, and his jaw slackened in confusion. It tightened again with the realization that followed. “You can’t mean-”

“Yes. I’m the-” Her voice broke. “The father. Forgive me. No, forgive Ashlin. I understand mine is the worse betrayal.”

Nikos lurched away from the wall and Savedra tensed for shouting, for rage, even for a blow. But he turned back to the sideboard to fetch a new goblet and pour more wine. His hand shook and garnet-red drops splashed the table.

“It was my fault,” Ashlin said. “I pressed the matter, abused my position and Savedra’s trust.”

“Please.” He laughed bitterly and raised his cup. His throat worked as he swallowed. “You said no lies. I know you too well for that.”

“I’m no ravished maiden,” Savedra said, her voice so dry she hardly recognized it. “Let’s place no blame beyond what we’ve earned.”

“Vedra-” His eyes were dangerously liquid. Her composure would shatter if his did. “Is it over, then? Between us?”

She started forward, stopped short as if held by a leash. Her cheeks tingled; her hands shook. “I love you. I love you as I always have. I would never leave you willingly, but what I’ve done-” She forced the words past her tightening throat. “It’s treason.”

“You love me.” No mockery, no doubt. “Do you love Ashlin, too?”

She saw the princess tense as if for a blow. No assassin could ever wound them all so gracefully. “Yes.”

“Well, then.” He drained the rest of his cup. “Doubtless my father could be decisive about something like this, but I don’t think I can. I need time, and more wine. I trust neither of you have spoken of this to anyone else? Good,” he said when they both nodded. “Then please don’t. I-Excuse me.” With that, he left, easing the door shut behind him so it didn’t make a sound.

Ashlin and Savedra stared at each other.

“When did you know?” Savedra managed at last.

“I’ve worried since we got back from Evharis. The timing was right for a child to catch-which I should have thought of then, but I was too drunk and stupid. And then this morning my breasts began to ache, and I knew.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I looked for you this morning. I thought of waiting, but that would only have put the burden on you, and been a coward’s choice. I’m sorry, Vedra. It seems that all we can do is hurt one another.”

She turned back to her rooms and shut the door behind her.

Savedra stood for a moment, stunned and sick, before she remembered the reason she’d needed to talk to Nikos in the first place. With a curse she ran after Ashlin, catching her before she reached the door of her suite.

“Wait! Saints, Ashlin, your timing is impossible.” She couldn’t look the princess in the eye, but she forced out an explanation of Phaedra and Isyllt’s suspicions.

“Blood and iron,” Ashlin swore. “No, we can’t let him wander off to drink himself stupid now. Where would he go?”

They searched the library, the stables, and the wine cellar with no luck, and Savedra silently cursed the cold and empty halls. Whenever she and Nikos tried to find a moment alone, the palace was crawling with servants, and now it was desolate.

An hour passed before they found a groundskeeper who pointed them toward the palace temple. The memory of the black crypts and the queen’s empty coffin sped Savedra’s stride, till Ashlin had to jog to keep pace.

His guards waited inside the temple, but directed Ashlin down to the crypt. “His Highness ordered us to leave him,” the unhappy sergeant said. And, more reluctantly, “He’s been drinking.”

Ashlin’s smile didn’t fool anyone. “I think I can carry him if he’s too drunk to walk. Stay here.

“I hate these places,” the princess muttered as they descended the stairs. The lantern swayed in her hand, and their shadows capered back and forth. “The dead should be burned and given to the sky, not locked up in vaults like preserves. And you call my people heathens.”

After several twists and curves, they saw a glimmer of light ahead. Nikos had set his lantern on the ground outside the Alexios crypt; its glow cast his face in shadow where he sat beside his mother’s sarcophagus, legs sprawled in front of him and a bottle of wine in his hand.

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