Shafts of moonlight fell in slices across the dungeon cell, illuminating a ragged, once-powerful but now bruised, tattered, and disheveled man, as well as his equally miserable surroundings. A bucket served as a chamber pot and stinking of refuse in the corner, rusted chains weighing down his wrists, stained shackles cuffing his ankles, and most importantly the water-stained ceiling which looked, at any minute, to be capable of caving in, but currently was acting as an irritation by delivering a constant drip of brownish water onto the King of Seralia.

"So we meet again, king Robert," Natasha greeted him now, holding her scarlet skirts up to ensure that they did not come near the stained and cracked floor. "What a change from our previous visit. No threats nor insults for me, or my husband, this time?"

He remained silent. Like a kicked mutt, she thought, though dogs had more use and humanity than the hateful wretch she saw before her.

"What do you want, Natasha Blackmore? To gloat?" His chains rattled as he brushed back a lock of lank hair, which was usually held in place by a heavy crown. "You've done quite enough of that."

"I will decide what I have done enough of, though I thank you for entertaining me with your statement. It is quite laughable that you consider even a prisoner such as yourself capable of giving advice to a queen." Natasha dropped her skirts, not wanting to seem overtly concerned with her appearance rather than the true matter at hand. "Perhaps I will decide that what I have not done enough of is interrogation, via the rack."

She savoured the terror on his face. Pride did go before a fall, and Tasha was certainly glad to see that his had certainly led to a drop in station, respect, and reputation.

"What is there to interrogate me about? I am sure your traitorous sister has already divulged the details of our bargain."

"My sister is no longer Arlean. Her acts are not treasonous, and as for that bargain..." Her heels clicked as she stepped closer to the cell. "It is hardly a bargain at all if you used her own child against her."

"What can I say?" The man shrugged, as though he were holding court and discussing a particularly brilliant chess move he had made. "A mother can almost always be trusted to save her child. I simply used that characteristic to my advantage."

"You enjoy threatening others, do you not?" She stepped closer yet, revealing the dagger that glinted at a sash around her waist. "How Would it feel for you to be on the receiving end of a threat to yourself? To your reign?"

"Have you not already carried out these threats? Surely I can sink no lower." The king sounded bored. She endeavoured to change that, even if it was only a facade created to avoid showing weakness.

"Really? I believe that rats such as yourself can always sink lower." Natasha removed the dagger, toying with it, watching the rubies in its hilt shine blood red in the flickering torchlight. They seemed to glow, as if alive. "I will make you a bargain, involving your children. Promise Dominica's daughter, Margaret Romero, the crown. Make her queen beside her husband, your son the future king."

"A bargain benefits both parties, does it not? Please, my queen, explain to my dim witted, rodent's mind, as you call it, how this deal would provide an advantage to myself."

"I will allow your son to live. I have assassins placed to kill him on my word—and my word is law. Make the decision, King Robert."

"We have yet to discuss my life, my survival. You speak of my legacy. I do not want to discuss a legacy until I am dead."

Is he really so unable to comprehend the legal consequences of his proposal yesterday?, she wondered. Or does he simply persist in denying it?

Either way, it would do him no good. "Oh, But you are as good as dead, Robert Saunders. Soon you will join your youngest brother, rotting in hell. Have I not made it clear that you threatened my husband, the king of Arlea? That you promised to slaughter him and steal my crown from me? And do you not understand that the simple act of planning to murder a sovereign is punishable by death?"

She dragged the steel blade across the iron bars of his cell, the sound of metal against metal harsh against her own ears though she bore it unflinchingly. He, however, cringed.

"But I made no concrete schemes," he replied in a slow drawl, as though she was the fool. "I hired no assassins, paid no mercenaries, and so certainly my plans were not traceable. Your sister burned every letter I wrote her regarding the visit to Arlea, as well as our little deal. All that you have to rely on in a court is your own testimony. And a woman's word is not worth the breath used to produce it."

"Say that again, and I will slit your throat without hesitation."

"Ah, the murderer queen shows her genuine self at last. How long I have waited to see your cruel face!" His voice was dramatic, echoing through the cells and down the shadowy corridor. "You cannot hide your true nature for long. No one can."

"And you have revealed yourself to be the worst kind of man, the sort who preys on women and children rather than protecting them. You only protect yourself, not even your own flesh and blood!"

"If I were to be killed, my son would be torn to pieces by the wolves who call themselves courtiers. Really, I am looking out for the good of my child." He gave a lazy, victorious smile that made her want to smack the other side of his face and leave a matching bruise. "Release me, and I will make Dominica's child equal ruler with her husband. I shall even put it in writing and send it as a decree to my court before I leave Arlea, as a sign of goodwill."

She cocked her head to the side, thinking. He was not the only one who could scheme, who could plot. "I shall take a week to consider it. In the meantime, try not to rot too badly in this cell. I would hate for you to completely decompose before I find a use for you."

• • •

Natasha yanked the counterpane over her head, letting the layers of silk and down envelop her body and cloak her in quiet darkness. Perhaps it was a childish move, considering that the sun had already risen and typically she would have risen herself along with it, to attend to Grace or meet with the council, but today... Today would have been an excellent time to tell Connor the news.

If only she could locate her husband.

Last night when she had stumbled int bed on aching feet after her visit to the dungeon, he had already been asleep. And now he was nowhere to be found, likely having already woken. She wanted to tell him of the king's plan, but she had a more joyous message to give him besides. One that could not be entrusted to any servant.

With a groan, she forced her feet to touch the plush carpet, padding out of bed and pulling a woollen robe over her chilly, silk-clad frame. Natasha rang the bell for her ladies' maid, before feeling a pair of arms slip around her waist and the soft brush of someone's mouth against her neck. Her hand fell to the dagger still strapped to her side, tending, before her body relaxed at the scent of linen and grass that enveloped her—her husband's aroma. Connor clasped his hand over her right one, which was still clutching the knife.

"You sleep with a blade now, darling?" He entertained his fingers with hers when she tried to release the weapon.

She tried to spin around to face him, but he gripped her body firmly. "I would use whatever means necessary to protect my family."

Her spine was perfectly aligned with the front of his torso; she could feel his breathing, sense his heartbeat. A steady pulse that made her feel secure, more secure than any weapon could. He rested his chin on the top of her head, where her hair had been plaited into the shape of a royal headpiece rather than having the usual crown resting on it. "What a coincidence. So would I."

"Especially now that there is another member?" She asked, and his grasp on her loosened with surprise, enough so that she could turn around and see him gape at her, open-mouthed in shock. It was the most undignified she had seen him in a long time, and she suppressed the urge to laugh.

"Are you being quite serious?" His gaze roamed her body, looking for noticeable changes though she doubted he would find any.

"Would I deceive you regarding such grave matters?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"No..." He frowned at her. She could see some mischievous light come into his eyes, and felt better for it, for that spark of hope that now burned between them. They needed it, in this dark game of crowns and crimes. "Do you suppose Grace will have a brother or a sister?"

"Let us bet on it."

At least this time, it wouldn't matter if the wager was won or lost. At least in this game, any outcome would not result in lives ended or hearts broken.