put you in prison the last time?”
The Guard chuckled, and Thomas turned red. Once upon a time, that helpless flush on her brother’s face had made Elyssa feel sorry for him, for if her mother was hard on Elyssa, she was merciless with Thomas, parading his failures for all to see. He did not even have a full guard, for the Queen had decreed that a spare did not need guards. Thomas’s life was full of such small cuts, but by now Elyssa could not help sharing her mother’s contempt. The rapes, the endless gambling debts, Thomas’s predatory manner with the Keep servants . . . her brother was a mess that required constant cleaning up.
“Give her back,” Thomas told Kibb, who was supporting the girl in his arms. “She belongs to me.”
“Fuck off, you little spare,” Elston growled; he was on guard at the door. “In my village, you would have been gelded long ago.”
Thomas colored further, then turned back to Elyssa. His nose was bleeding freely, but there was a triumphant gleam in his eye that she did not like at all.
“Mother said that I should go ahead and pick one woman,” he announced. “She said that if it would keep me out of trouble, it was worth it to her. So she gave me the money. I bought the girl yesterday, and she belongs to me. I can do whatever I want with her.”
Elyssa felt her stomach lurch. She had a momentary hope that Thomas was lying, but hope died quick. Thomas was a terrible liar, and this was exactly what her mother would do, for Queen Arla was a pragmatist, first and foremost. She could not stop her son’s depredations, no, but nor could she imprison or hang him. So she would make sure that the rape was kept quiet, troubling no one important, causing no scandal. Elyssa wondered what Lady Glynn would say about this turn of events.
“Give her back!” Thomas told Kibb, more forcefully this time.
After a questioning look at Elyssa, Kibb released the girl. Thomas beckoned her, but the girl retreated, scurrying away from him, around the bed.
“Kibb, you stay right here,” Elyssa told him. “Someone will bring you dinner. Thomas, the girl will have a guard at all times until I have discussed this with the Queen.”
“You can’t do that!” Thomas snarled.
“You think not?” Elyssa moved forward again, and had the pleasure of watching Thomas back up against the wall. “Don’t test me, little brother, or the very instant I take the throne, I’ll see you in a dungeon. Maybe even at the end of a rope.”
Turning, she stormed out of the room and down the corridor. She had been dreading the carriage ride to the Arvath with her mother, but now it seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring up this little arrangement. Elyssa could not stand by . . . not here, in the Keep, in this kingdom that would be hers someday. She sped up, almost running now, as she emerged in the great chamber . . . and then came to a sudden halt.
The seer, Brenna, was seated at the enormous oakwood table that sat in the center of the room. She was alone but busy. She appeared to be casting bones. As Elyssa approached the broad table, Brenna’s low mutters became audible.
“Six, twelve, fifteen. Crows murder, and stars fall.” She threw another handful of bones across the table, stared at them for a moment, then murmured, “Children lost and children gained. Blood spilled on silk.”
Behind Elyssa, one of the guards muttered in disgust.
“The hidden child. The lost child. Flames in a black sky. Six, twelve, fifteen. Charred bones and flesh—”
Barty cleared his throat rudely. Brenna looked up, and Elyssa noted with interest that her nearly colorless pupils were dilated, clear grey pools floating on a sea of pale blue ice.
“Surely you have a private chamber where you can do that,” Barty remarked coldly.
Slowly, almost insolently, Brenna began to gather her bones. She did have a private chamber; it was only three doors down from Elyssa’s own rooms, a matter about which Barty had complained to Captain Givens more than once. But Givens, who was even less superstitious than Barty, had dismissed his concerns . . . or at least ignored them. Givens knew which way the wind was blowing. The Queen had raised the seer to the level of a high councilor; now, even in a time of drought, she spent more time alone with Brenna than