lines in his face were deeper, and there were hollows around his eyes.
"You look like a eunuch," he replied, still holding on to her. "What on earth are you doing? For God's sake, be careful! If the monks find out, they'll..."
She pulled away a little and looked up at him. "I'm good at it," she said ruefully. "I didn't dress like this to get in here. Although I would have! I'm like this all the time..."
He was incredulous. "Why? You're beautiful. And you can practice medicine as a woman!"
"It's for a different reason." She also could not bear to tell him that she was unmarriageable, and why. That was a burden he did not need. "I have a good practice," she went on quickly. "Often at the Blachernae Palace, for the eunuchs there, and sometimes for the emperor himself."
"Anna!" he cut across her. "Don't! No practice is worth the risk you're taking."
"I'm not doing it for the practice," she said. "I'm doing it to find out enough to prove why you killed Bessarion Comnenos. It's taken me so long because at first I didn't even know why anyone would, but now I know."
"No, you don't," he contradicted her. His voice dropped, suddenly gentle. "You can't help, Anna. Please don't become involved. You have no idea how dangerous it is. You don't know Zoe Chrysaphes..."
"Yes, I do. I'm her physician." She looked straight into his eyes. "I think she poisoned both Cosmas Kantakouzenos and Arsenios Vatatzes. I'm certain she killed Gregory Vatatzes face-to-face, with a dagger, and tried to have the Venetian ambassador arrested for it."
He stared at her. "Tried to?"
"I prevented it." She felt the heat burn in her face. "You don't need to know now. But yes, I know Zoe. And Helena. And Eirene, and Demetrios," she went on hastily. "And Bishop Constantine, of course."
He smiled at Constantine's name. "How is he? I get so little news here. Is he well?"
"Are you asking me as his physician?" It sounded lighthearted, but she said it because she suddenly realized that he had not seen the darker, weaker side of Constantine, the way he had changed under the desperate pressure of the union, of failure, the burden of leading so much of the resistance almost alone.
His eyebrows shot up. "You're his physician, too?"
"Why not?" She bit her lip. "To him I'm a eunuch. Isn't that appropriate?"
He paled. "Anna, you can't get away with this. For God's sake, go home. Have you any idea the risks you're taking? You can't prove anything. I..."
"I can prove why you killed Bessarion," she replied. "And that you had no other choice. You were foiling a plot to usurp Michael, the only way possible. The emperor should thank you, reward you!"
He touched her face so gently she felt little more than the warmth of his hand. "Anna, it was a plot to usurp Michael, in order to save the Church from Rome. It was only when I finally realized that Bessarion had not the fire or the guts to succeed that I changed course. Michael knows that.
"I killed Bessarion," he said in little more than a whisper. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and I still have nightmares about it. But if he had usurped the throne, it would have been a disaster for Byzantium. I was a fool for it to take me so long to see that. I didn't want to, and then it was too late. But I'm here because I wouldn't tell Michael the names of the rest of the conspirators. I... I couldn't. They were no more guilty than I-perhaps less. They still believed it was the right thing to do for the city-and the faith."
She dropped her head and leaned against him. "I know that. I know who they are, and I couldn't tell him either. But there must be something I can do!"
"There isn't," he said softly. "Leave it be, Anna. Constantine will do what he can. He already saved my life. He'll plead for me with the emperor, if there's a chance."
There was no one else except her to fight for Justinian. And she had more chance of the emperor's ear than Constantine now.
"Who betrayed you to the authorities?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered. "And it doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do about it, even if you were certain. What do you want, vengeance?"
She looked at him, searching. "I don't want revenge," she admitted. "At least only when I'm not really thinking. Then I'd