My mother was speaking to Jocelyn when I found her.

"Hello, sweetheart," Josie said, glancing at Askar and me. Then she did a double take. "Is everything alright?"

"Hi, Mrs. Willoughby," I said. I curtsied, and she returned it.

"You look beautiful in white, Eliza," she said. "Though I thought Danny said your dress was beaded?"

My mother looked it over. "What's happened?"

"N-Nothing," I tried.

"You've changed your dress. What's happened?" she pried.

Josie's smile stopped, and she searched the room. "Where is my husband?"

"He's, uh," I stopped.

"He's entertaining a friend of mine right now," Askar lied. Sort of. "The King and Ser Elías are with him. No worries."

"So many in one place?" Mother asked.

"Yes," Ask nodded. "And they asked that you join them, ma'am."

"Is Daniel hurt?" Josie worried.

"No," I sang. "He's not; he's–"

"He's hurting someone," Mother said. She and Josie shared a glance. "Show me where," she said.

"But Mama," I said. "It's really more of a private meeting."

Josie's face hardened. "Show us, now."

Mom laid a hand on her arm. "Come, Josie, it's alright. Let's go."

On the way, I tried to send Jocelyn away.

"Mama, I don't think Mrs. Willoughby should be here," I whispered.

She shook her head. "Josie should be here. Who is your friend, Your Grace?"

Askar sighed. "Actually, my cousin, Lord Beck."

"Lord Beck?" She whipped around to meet me. "Lord Beck? He's... What did that little rat do?"

"Mom," I shook my head.

She came to a stop.

"Come," I tried. "We should–"

"I think I should like to take my time," she said.

"We've already burnt a lot of that," Askar told her. "I promise."

She frowned at him. "And do you have something to do with this?"

"Mother!" I cried.

She pulled me from his side of the corridor, and I groaned.

"Stop it!" I said. "Askar did nothing wrong."

"If your father finds this meeting relevant to his interests, somebody did something wrong," she told me. "I will not rest until I find out what it was. Now. Duke," she turned, "Tell me."

"Mama!"

"My cousin was inappropriate with your daughter. I was not involved in the act, but I was there first, followed by Ser Willoughby, who–"

There was a loud rumble from somewhere close. We all looked to the end of the hall for its source.

He said, "Ser Willoughby said he needed to discuss manners with Lord Beck. He told me to take Eliza, to keep her with me, and to find Ser Elías when I got to it and to tell him he was looking for him. I took the opportunity to wrap my hand. We changed Eliza's dress; it had blood on it; we found the Lord Commander. His Majesty was with him. Eliza took a break on a bench, I stayed next to her, and then we came to find you."

A glamour passed over her face, and then she was Queen and not my mother. "Fine."

Then a wail shrilled out of the castle. She didn't acknowledge it, but it made me jump. It was a person screaming—a person in pain. I tried to head toward it, but my mother stopped me.

"Is your Duke telling the truth?" she asked.

I nodded. Another cry danced around us, echoing. I thought to look at Josie, but she was unfazed. Askar's face was grim, though he tried to hide it. I slipped my hand into his, and only then did it shift at all to something more.

"Askar has never lied to me," I said. "He's a good man."

Josie nodded. "If Daniel left the Princess in the Duke's charge, that is the truth, Svana," she said.

My mother agreed. Reluctantly, she agreed. I felt a weight leave my chest. "And you've taken his hand," she noted. "Then do I understand there's some sort of arrangement here?" she asked.

It was eerie; the cries of what I assumed was Lord Beck sounded nothing like him as he crooned in and out of our conversation like an uninvited guest.

"Yes," Askar said. "Though I was going to ask for your blessing before I made the offer publicly."

"But you've offered?" the Queen checked. "You asked Eliza?"

"Yes," he said. "And she's accepted."

Josie was alight with a shocking sort of happiness. She took our linked hands to beam. "How very happy I am for you," she sang. She gave my mother a look. "Are we not happy?"

My mother nodded. "I suppose it takes a certain caliber of man to stand here and listen to his cousin be beaten over a woman he wishes to marry, so yes. I suppose I am happy. Happy you have the stomach to be worthy of my daughter. We're not easy women to love."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Askar said. "But I disagree."

"Good," she cracked, then she sighed. "That's dreadful loud."

"They're... They're in the back hall," I told her. "That's where we left them... Sorry, I just feel like I should say that. I don't feel right leaving Kristjan to–"

"Sweetheart," my mother said. Her eyes were ice; she was someone else. "There is not enough time in the world to listen to the sweet melody of Justice happening now. There is a reason I've placed you with Ser Willoughby and no one else. He is judge, jury, and executioner in all things that concern your well-being."

"Execut— Is that what a Rusted Blade does?" I asked.

Josie canted her head. "Who told you that phrase?"

Another scream came out, and Ask couriered me down the hall; they came after. Both my mother and Mrs. Willoughby were curiously slower.

"I've heard it enough in the past month and never before in my life. What is a Rusted Blade, and is Ser Willoughby one of them?" I asked.

"Yes," my mother said.

"But I—"

There was a loud thudding. No one shared my panic. I started running toward the noise, and Askar came with me, still fixed to my hand.

The roll of something sounded again, and I realized what it was when, distinctly, we heard a series of gasps, moans, and curses about a staircase. I lost the Duke to pick up my skirt to run faster, but by the point we had arrived, in staggered times, at the reason for the noise, things had come to an end.

Lord Beck cried, muttering, a writhing body of agony in a ball at the foot of the stairs. He was curled up at the base of the marble, and he tried to reach for Ser Elías' boot, but the Sword stepped back slow enough that it felt like some sort of taunt. My father was watching in hateful mist from the wall. His arms were folded, but he did nothing to help the Marquis. There was blood on his face. There was blood on Ser Willoughby's. There was blood on Ser Elías' gloves.

"Oh, my God," I cried.

Lord Beck continued to complain though I could barely hear his words.

"Eliza," my father said. "Go find your mother, please."

"I'm right here," Mom replied, stepping into the room, followed by Mrs. Willoughby.

"Baby?" Josie asked.

I followed her eyes to the top of the steps, where my knight wore a strange look about his face. It was as if he'd never felt the obvious sense of pleasure that he bore, and for as long as it took for my mother to meet the King's side, he basked in it.

When she was there, Willoughby straightened and placed his hands behind his back, but he glanced down at Lord Beck, still wearing the grin. He sighed happily.

"Willough?" I asked. "Are you alright?"

That broke his high long enough, but he didn't answer me. Instead, Elías glanced over his shoulder at the Queen.

"Your Majesty," he said. "Lord Beck lost his footing."

"Eliza, come," Askar tried to move me. I shrugged him off, crouching toward the Marquis.

"Can you breathe?" I asked.

He shrank back from me. "G-Get back," he croaked.

"You've had your fun," I said. "He needs a doctor."

"I think he's fine," Willoughby returned. We met eyes.

"The Marquis should be more careful," Elías sang. "These steps are slippery this time of year."

My mother stared at him. "Aye. You should be more careful, sir," she said. "Lest you fall again and again and again and again."

"Mama!" I cried. "He needs the doctor."

She shook her head, but Willoughby answered for her. "The doc's in Lawrence, Princess. 'Fraid that's an unhappy coincidence, innit?"

"What? I–" I stopped.

My parents watched Lord Beck. Father left the wall to collect his wife, and they motioned for me to follow.

"Come along, Rosie," he said. "Daniel will find you soon."

"But he–"

Ask urged me towards him. "Go on, love," he said.

"You're not coming?" I worried. "Don't– Don't stay here. Come with me," I begged.

He didn't move. "I need to clean my house," he said.

"W-What? What does that mean?" I cried.

He touched my cheek. "I will see you next week, alright?" he said. "I promise."

"But he– No!"

"As much as I wish he weren't, Beck is my cousin. I am bound by an obligation to my aunt. I must see him home."

"But the Riverlands is a two-day ride," I tried.

"Then he will have time to think about our discussion," Willough said. He started down the stairs, but as he came closer, Beck tried to shrimp away from him. "Assuming he lives. I'll let God decide."

"But he–" I panted. "I didn't– He– You mustn't– I– Willough, please," I begged him. I begged everyone in the room. "Please do not hurt my Duke."

Askar breathed. "Love, I am fine. I promise." He brushed a curl from my face, tucking it behind my ear. "Let me do what I must. I will find you at the next ball. I promise."

"But I–"

"I know," he said. "I know." He kissed my forehead, then the top of my head after that. His hand left the back of my braid, and he sighed.

"I don't want you to go," I said. "I'm scared for you."

"I will see you soon," he said. He walked toward Elías. "...May I take him?" he asked.

Elías looked up at Ser Willoughby, and Willoughby thought about it.

"Willough," I cried.

"Sure. I think I'm done with him," he said. "Hello, Josie." He popped off the last stair, stepping over the lord's body, and slid his hands around his wife's waist. "Happy to see your face."

She kissed him, and she whispered something in his ear; he whispered back in hers.

"Think I'll turn in. 'Less you've anything to say to him?" Willough asked me. "Before he goes?"

"I..." I shook my head. "No. I have nothing."

"Good girl."