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“I didn’t leave a body. They’ll never know if he simply fucked off. Tristane will start asking questions when he doesn’t report back. We’ve probably got a week or so before she realises something’s wrong.”

“What will she do?” asked Fairhrim.

“Rage. Send someone else. Go herself. I don’t know.”

“I’ve got to warn Xanthe,” said Fairhrim. “We’ll take additional protective measures.”

“Be careful with your measures,” said Osric. “It’ll be suspicious if Swanstone is suddenly swarming with Wardens and lit up like it’s Yule. Tristane can’t suspect there was a leak.”

Fairhrim made a sound of agreement. She rose and fetched a sort of wrist brace. “Let’s get this on you.”

“What’s it for?” asked Osric.

“To hide your tacn for now,” said Fairhrim, slipping the brace over his left hand. “We’ll say you injured your wrist when you fainted. It covers your palm.”

“Ah.”

“We’ll have to get you new gloves. Yours are rather on the crusty side.”

“I’ll send my deofol to Mrs.Parson for clothes.”

“I’ve tucked your things under there,” said Fairhrim, pointing to a floorboard. “Including Brythe’s and your blaecblades. My mother mustn’t know how close she is to real blaec.”

“Floorboard. Classic.”

“Gloriously predictable, as you once said. What’s the meaning behind the gold threads?”

“Which?”

“The ones that wrap around the hilts of the blaecblades. I noticed yours and Brythe’s had different amounts.”

“Oh, those. They’re a marker of, erm—rank.”

“I thought they might be.” Fairhrim nodded. “Thought it could denote years of service, like Haelan wings, only you can’t have over eight hundred years of service, so what are they counting?”

Osric took too long to fabricate an answer. Fairhrim stared at him, then said, “Gods. It’s kills, isn’t it?”

“Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies.”

Fairhrim gave no answer but a resigned sigh. She cocked a hip against a sofa and shoved it over the floorboard. “Rest while you can. There’ll be a stream of curious relatives itching to see you. I’ll do my best to stem the flow.”

“Why are there so many relatives here?”

“The party.”

“What party?”

“My parents’ fortieth anniversary party is in a few days. They decided to make a Thing of it.” Fairhrim looked as though she had opinions on parties and Things. “Now, if you want to get better quickly, you need to rest. I’ll leave you.”

“I’m sorry about your dress.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“At least it wasn’t one of your usual perfect white ones.”

“Haelan whites are made of an impermeable polymer. They don’t stain.”

“Oh.”