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“You’re speaking as though from experience.”

“I am,” said Mordaunt. “I made overtures to you during our first meeting and you were inexorable. Adamantine.”

“You? Tried to seduce me? During our first meeting?”

“Well, now you’re just offending me,” said Mordaunt.

He looked so put out that Aurienne felt the welling of laughter. She tamped it down. “Sorry—which part was meant to be seductive: the part where you broke in, or the part where you wanted to kidnap me, or the part where you bribed my Order to heal you against my will?”

“As I said—lost cause,” said Mordaunt, decidedly piqued.

“I’ve vexed you,” said Aurienne.

“Don’t hurt yourself rushing to apologise.”

“If we haven’t aggravated each other to the verge of flying at one another’s throats, the day is wasted.”

Mordaunt contemplated his sword as well as her words and, at length, conceded: “True.”

“How are we going to search the Keep?” asked Aurienne. “The place is enormous.”

“That’s what you leave up to me,” said Mordaunt. “Looking forward to having a look tonight.”

“But—how do you know where to begin? We don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

“Human beings are gloriously predictable. Precious lordlings even more so. If there’s anything interesting hidden in this Keep, I’ll find it.”

“What if he’s so paranoid that he keeps it on him—whateveritis?”

“I’ll find it no matter what crevice he’s hidingitin. I’ve plunged deep into better men for lesser prizes. And I don’t mean that in a sexy way. Although I’ve also done it in a sexy way. Did your deofol ever deliver my observation about anals?”

“Yes. Pleased you find yourself so amusing. Don’t plunge too deeply into Wellesley. If he dies, the repercussions could be outright war.”

“And?” asked Mordaunt.

“I’m not here to trigger a war.”

“They’ll blame Kent.”

“But I’ll blame me, for whatever hundreds or thousands die,” said Aurienne.

Mordaunt looked at her as though she were mildly alien.

“What?” asked Aurienne.

“A conscience must be such a burden,” said Mordaunt.

“Managing your lack thereof is the greater strain.”

“Might you strain yourself a little further, and pass me that tray?”

Aurienne turned to the elaborate sideboard to her left, upon which rested an equally elaborate tray. “You’re going to eat? You trust their food?”

“Absolutely not,” said Mordaunt. He picked his way through the tray and began to throw things, with annoying accuracy, into the fireplace. “Let’s make it look like you partook.”

The bedchamber grew smoky with burnt goose leg, charred leek and cheese pie, and marzipan cakes reduced to ash. The wine they poured into a potted plant.

Mordaunt examined the bottle’s label afterwards. “If this was untampered with, what we’ve just done is criminal.”