Chapter 7: The Library

Kendrick came to my door at midnight, and the guard in the corridor wouldn't let him in.

"Crown protection, Commander," the guard said. "Nobody enters the east wing after ten."

"She's my wife."

"She's the King's guest."

I had heard the voices through the wood. I opened the door a hand's width, with the chain on.

Kendrick stood in the lamplight in his shirtsleeves. He had no coat and no medals, and he hadn't shaved.

He looked like someone who had slept in a chair.

"Five minutes," he said. "Please."

I'd never heard him say that word to me.

I took off the chain and stepped out into the corridor.

The guard moved three paces down the hall to give us room.

"Odette's gone to her sister's," Kendrick said. "I told her I'd cancel the ceremony."

"That's your business."

"I'm telling you because it's true. I'm not asking for anything."

He pushed a hand through his hair.

"I read my own reports tonight. Three years of them. I wanted to see what I'd written about you."

"And?"

"Nothing." His voice caught. "Not one line. I never wrote your name once."

I waited.

"I need you to tell me what happened that night," he said. "Not in front of the lords. Here. All of it."

"You were there."

"I was there for half. You said the rest."

"I said it already, in front of sixty people."

I kept my voice even.

"I won't say it twice so you can feel better about it."

"I don't want to feel better."

"Then you'll hear the rest at the hearing, with everybody else."

He took that in.

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