Chapter 18: The Same Night

I put the folded Southbay page on Corwin's desk without a word.

He read the two lines.

Then he took a key from his waistcoat and unlocked the drawer.

He laid a chart beside the page, open to a line with a black bar across it.

"Tilt it to the lamp," he said.

I did.

Under the ink, pressed into the paper, was my own name.

"When?" I asked.

"Last night. I stood outside your door and did not knock."

I put the page down very carefully.

"I was in the next room, awake."

"I know."

"Everyone I have ever trusted decided how much of the truth I could carry."

"Yes," he said. "I did the same, and I'm sorry for it."

He did not explain himself or say it was for my sake.

I waited for the excuse.

It never came, and some of the anger went out of me because of that.

"New term," I said. "Whatever you learn about me, I learn the same night."

"Done."

"Whatever I learn, you do."

"Done."

I reached over and turned the chart face down.

"Then we'll read the rest together. Not tonight."

A Guard knocked, and Corwin's press secretary came in with an evening paper held out at arm's length.

The front page had a photograph of me at the barracks, taken from behind, with Garrick's discharge half hidden.

THE KING'S GUEST, the headline said. Beneath it: Councilor Ashworth speaks of his daughter's distress.

A crowd had gathered at the palace gate. We could hear it from the study.

I picked up the paper and read the first paragraph, and the second.

"They're asking whether I'm your patient or your mistress."

"I'll have it withdrawn."

"No."

I folded the paper under my arm.

"Come with me."

The flashes began before we had cleared the gate arch.

Reporters pressed against the rope, and the questions came all at once, over one another.

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