Forget the masquerade! In the frenzy of the Tigress' arrival, only my trusted officers would come to see me. Like Miccola. The spies would be frying their brains watching Vanozza or the troops' movement. They wouldn't care for what the bed-ridden Ismar was doing.

I ripped the stupid linens off and went to stand under the water cistern, delighting in chilly water. I scrubbed off every bit of the pricey, useless gunk from my skin. A nearly weightless cotton shift felt wonderful after the crusty bandages, even if it clung to my wet body. I dashed back into the tent and dove into bed from a running start, burrowing under the blankets.

Something moved in the corner, in the shadows.

I pounced out of my blanket cocoon, seizing my dagger from under my pillow.

Nirav was lucky I recognized his cedar-and-berries smell mid-strike.

"You'll make a half-decent scout, but a lousy assassin," I said and lowered the blade from Nirav's pulsating throat.

His knees gave out. He landed on my bed so heavily that were I injured in truth, I'd be biting back screams. Since I wasn't an invalid, I pushed myself away from his hunched back. Curse my rash choices!

Nirav knitted fingers fell apart, leaving the blanket he gripped as he fell crumpled.

"You were not struck by an arrow in the chest, and the spear did not go through your thigh," he mumbled without lifting his head.

I sat bolt upright. "No. What else did Soffika tell you?"

It was his turn to straighten up in surprise. His hands trembled in his lap. "That... that you won't betray Idezza."

I could see his profile, the tousled curls, the neurotic knots in his shoulders. He came to me seeking comfort, not to set the account straight.

"I won't go back on the contract I signed with you. I would do what I must do to see Tigress choke on Idezza," I said as softly as I could. "When you have lesser numbers, Duke—like you and me—and a larger army is bearing down on you, a ruse and a swift victory is the best bet."

He whimpered.

I went on with my cooing, "But if I cannot break her, I need to know that you are prepared to survive a siege. Because if I lose on the battlefield, your only hope is that her stores are exhausted before yours. Or that the Divines send a wasting disease on her troops."

He whimpered again, making me wonder if he was fighting back tears. "Yes... yes, they told me that. I was working towards it for months. I thought I was ready. But now... by Yansara's light, I'm scared, Ismar. I... I didn't know it would be so... so..."

"Scary?" I supplied the word with a smile. I knew exactly how he felt. I had that knowledge for longer than he was alive. But when fear grips you for the first time, you feel like you are the only person who has ever felt that way. It's the same with love. "War is scary, my Duke. It's also thrilling."

He did not reply. His gaze lingered on his hands in his lap. His fingers coiled and uncoiled like a swarm of snakes.

I threw a blanket over his shoulders. After a moment's hesitation, I left my arms there as well, draped over him. Sometimes being warm helped. "Duke, I need you to keep doing what you've been doing. I need you to be an inspiration for the citizens of Idezza."

Nirav nodded, his eyes downcast. "Don't you think I know that? And I'm trying... I'm trying."

His dejected pose touched a cord in my chest. "I would have sent you away from Idezza with my family if you had asked."

To my surprise, he laughed, though not merrily. "Ismar, they used to say I killed my sister in my mother's womb. That I had poisoned it for Soffika too."

I gave the man sitting on my bed an unhurried look. Idezza was a happy place if their night terror was this unfortunate youngster with soulful eyes. "Do you believe that you've been a monster since before you were even born?"

"When I was young, I did," he said, lifting his gaze on me. His eyes were huge. Black.

That earnest look on his face! I chewed my nails to keep from bursting out laughing.

He dipped his head and went on in the same hoarse whisper. "Back then I wanted to prove them wrong. Now, Ismar, now they no longer say it! They call me a hero worthy of Vanozza. Finally, I've overcome prejudice, I'm lauded—and I'm falling way short of being a hero."

He wasn't wrong. And he was. Heroes didn't all sprung from the same seed, all alike like lentils in a sack.

"I didn't include heroes in my plans," I said. "Only winning the battle for Idezza."

The night was warm, but he shivered under my blanket, in my embrace.

"Vanozza is like a stone ball thrown out of a ballista. She speeds towards her destiny, without looking to the left or right, without a single doubt in her mind," he complained. "But I? I keep thinking, did I ruin all of Idezza by trying to do what was right?"

Was I supposed to console him about Vanozza? Tell him that he is as deserving as his wife to be? How ironic, given that we sat hip to hip, and his head was looking for its place on my shoulder. I absentmindedly threaded fingers through his soft curls.

"It could be days, even years before you know the outcome, Duke. You might never find out," I said. "You must find strength."

"What do you think I'm doing, Ismar?" he asked.

I didn't expect him to kiss me, despite the intimacy between us. Didn't expect it, but didn't mind it either. Things would go easier if he threw in with me. Innocence is beautiful, but it destroys those who have no defenders. And he was a man without a mother or a wife. His fiancée was a pawn.

I tore my lips away from his. "I fight to keep Soffika and you alive, Nirav. I can't promise you more."

He was the one who loosened a special knot on his belt. Apparently, as focused as Vanozza was on military glory, she found the time to officially promise to marry him. I'd seen Nirav put little stock in the Divines before, so I let him untie his breeches and ask Yansara to look the other way. They were on friendly terms, or so it seemed.

Could a woman call love-making wistful? It was for me that night. What he wished for, what I wished for were two different things entirely. No matter how deeply his body merged with mine, no matter how we mixed the life-giving fluids, it didn't add a single drop to his courage. In return, his aristocratic cock didn't rub off a speck of nobility onto me. Our hearts beat together, our breaths were inhaled and exhaled in unison, but the lovers come apart in the end. Only a child could take on the characteristics of two people, her parents.

And yet, while I held Nirav to me or brushed his back with my hand, passion deluded me. If Vanozza or anyone else would have tried to wrangle Nirav away from me then, I would have killed them. And I would have screamed that what I was doing was good and right. Divine Indara rules over both passion and lies for a reason, yet even Their voice fades.

I uncoiled my legs from his and kissed him in farewell. "Vanozza must not—"

He rolled his shoulders and head back, then chuckled mirthlessly. "Ismar, if you only knew how many times I was told to keep my mouth shut! I mean... after."

I kissed him again. Regret tugged at my gut. I could have taken him away. I could have... if he was Ondrey or Parneres or... no, not Taffiz. Taffiz took care of himself. But he wasn't. He wasn't.

Nirav went to his knees to hug mine, "Ina'amatus, ina'guarda, ina'Yansara."

A vow? No... "Duke, you already have my promise made before Yansara. And I'll do everything in my power to fulfill it by crowning you. You can't ask for more."

His hands squeezed tightly together. "I've made a terrible mistake with Vanozza. Forgive me."

"You hadn't," I said. Truth hurts, that's how you know it's the truth. "You acted in your own interests, in the interests of your sister and your City. Sometimes, the consequences of the right choices are as hard to live down as the mistakes."

He dry-swallowed and kissed me awkwardly on the cheek before slipping out of my tent and into the night.

Alone, on the cooling sheets, my pulse slowed. Coldly, I thought it over and found no flaws in my decisions. It had never been good or right for me to love him. We'd been lucky that Yansara didn't curse us for eternity. Counting on Their blessing after what we had done was blasphemous.

Drunkenly slow, I found a sponge and went to wash myself again. Cool water poured over my burning skin. As my hands made soft rounds where he'd just touched me, as I trembled involuntarily, I wondered if he was washing away this night somewhere. If similar resolutions drummed in his temples with the persistence of a woodpecker.

Whatever the case, in the Knowable World a woman can't undo what has been done. She can only go forth. Every turn of the hourglass neared the hour of the battle against the Tigress. My heart thumped louder, louder, and louder.