And I suppose it’s possible that they just think Theron would be—what did you call him? A lousy commander? But murder seems like a drastic choice to avoid something that might never happen. I doubt you’ve made any secret of your plan to guild him.”
Gavin said nothing.
“If you don’t marry me, Gavin, who will you marry? You need an heir. They won’t just let you play forever.” Elly’s emphasis on the word was ugly.
Judah could feel in her muscles how much Gavin hated this conversation. She could feel his confusion; this Elly was not at all the tolerant friend he’d been paying lazy court to since they were eight years old. Judah herself was less surprised. “Porterfield,” he said. “That’ll be the public story, that I’m renouncing you for her.” Then, too quickly, “Which I would never do of my own volition. Which I will never do.”
“Instead, you’ll kill Elban,” Elly said.
“Yes.” He sounded defiant. “I told you, Elly. None of this will happen.”
“And has it occurred to you,” Elly said dryly, “that there might be some anti-Porterfield faction that doesn’t want it to happen? Considering that courtiers are courtiers, and that if Theron’s dead he can’t be the stick Elban is beating you with. No, there’s no other answer. I’m marrying Elban. Unless you really do have the Seneschal on your side, Gavin.”
Gavin’s eyes slid uncertainly toward Judah, then away. “I don’t. But I refuse—”
Elly laughed. “How long have you lived here? Anyone would think you’re the one from the province full of sheep, not me.” Her laughter melted into anger, liquid and caustic. “You don’t get to refuse. I don’t get to refuse. The stupid Porterfield girl doesn’t get to refuse, although she might not know it. All I do is read family histories, Gavin. Generations of them. Nobody gets to refuse.” Elly’s voice had not wavered once in this entire horrible conversation, but it did now. Judah knew that the waver was not grief but rage.
Gavin was quiet, deflated. Wrestling with something. Finally he said, “Elly, he’s a monster.”
Her shoulders twitched. “I come from a long line of monsters. I’m not afraid.” She stood up and held her hand out to him. The gesture was uncomfortably formal. “Thank you for not killing Theron.”
“You would never have forgiven me.” Gavin watched her hand as if it pained him, and made no move to take it.
“No,” she said. “I wouldn’t have.”
* * *
She arranged an audience with Elban before it had even occurred to Judah that such a thing was possible. They had an hour to wait. Judah spent it with Theron. Every lethargic motion of his head felt like a reproach, a reminder that she’d done nothing while Theron’s mind drained away. Elly was building her own pyre to throw herself on and save them all. Nothing Judah did could help her. Sitting with Theron was nothing compared to the price Elly had volunteered to pay. Judah swore privately that she would take care of Theron as long as he needed it. She had no other purpose; she would devote herself to him.
Still, when Elly asked her to come with her to see Elban, Judah said, “If you want me to,” though it meant leaving Theron alone. Judah knew her presence in Elban’s study would not improve his mood any, but it might draw fire away from Elly. To that end, she would have gone in wild and rumpled as she was, but Elly insisted that Judah put on a clean dress, and made her sit to have her hair rebraided, so she’d be as presentable as possible. Elly herself wore the same dress she’d worn all day, with her hair in one braid that she pinned up out of her way. Practical, but plain—as plain as someone as lovely as Elly could be. She would not dress up for Elban. He might marry her, but she wouldn’t play bride for him.
“I’m sorry,” Judah said while Elly did her hair. “We should have told you.”
“Yes,” Elly said. Then, unexpectedly, she leaned her head down on top of Judah’s, and put her arms around Judah’s shoulders. Judah put her hands over Elly’s.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, and neither of them said anything more.
When the two women emerged from the bedroom into the parlor, Gavin was waiting by the door. He’d changed his shirt and cleaned his boots. The set of his jaw was stubborn. “Theron’s asleep. We’ll lock the door. I’m not letting the two of you go alone.”