Leo's question stayed in the dark between us. Did Papa tell me the truth about you? I could have answered too quickly. Yes. No. Some of it. Instead I asked, "What did he tell you?"

Leo rolled onto his side under the blue blanket.

"That you loved me before I was born."

The first missing widow allotment belonged to a woman I remembered. Not her face at first. Her handwriting. Ruth Dain wrote every request in block letters because her hands shook in winter.

Three years ago, before the South Wing, I had approved extra lamp oil f

Marcus Vane did not come to Blackthorn. He sent terms. That told me almost as much.

The formal offer arrived at noon, carried by the same envoy who had suspended grain shipments at the emergency assembly. This time he asked for the great hall. Not a private room.