The King's Blood

and answered between equals.”
    “Oh, I absolutely agree,” Geder said with a rattling nod that meant he hadn’t understood at all. The priest had his eyes half closed, but seemed to be listening to him carefully all the same. A twist of anger floated up from Dawson’s heart.
    “The world has an order,” Dawson said. “My men are loyal to me, and I am loyal to the throne, and the throne is loyal to the system of the world. We are who we are, Palliako, because we have been born better. When a low man crosses me, I execute him. When a highborn man, a man of quality , crosses me, then there is the dueling field. If I were to wantonly spill noble blood on behalf of a pig keeper, even if the nobleman were of a different kingdom and the pig keeper my own vassal, it would be an abomination.”
    “Let me think about that. Of course, we are more or less equals, aren’t we?” Geder said. “We’re nobles, they’re nobles. And we’ve done all this because they were scheming against Aster, who’s the highest blood in the land. We did it for him.”
    We’ve done it for your foreign zealots , Dawson thought.
    “I suppose so,” he said, and the priest made a small sound in his throat, like a boy who’d caught sight of a curious animal.
    “You seem troubled, Lord,” the priest said, sitting forward. His gaze was on Dawson. “Is something else bothering you?”
    You are a goatherd, and you have no right to question me.
    “Nothing,” Dawson said, and the priest smiled.
    S
    eeing Clara again was like putting a burned hand in cool water. Everyone else, from the footmen to Jorey, were made of smiles and pleasure and congratulation. Dawson felt as though he were living in a dream where he was in a burning ballroom and no one else could see the flames. Clara looked at him once and put her arms around him like a mother comforting her child.
    Most of the evening they lay together in her bed, his head in her lap when she sat or sharing her pillow when she lay down. The world with its idiotic gaudiness and mindless cheers—face paint on a tainted woman—faded for a time while she told him of all the small domestic crises he had missed during the brief, decisive war. One of the maids had married and left the house. A cistern had sprung a leak and had to be drained before it could be repaired. Sabiha was settling into the household, but Elisia was being difficult. She’d had a letter from the holding at Osterling Fells that the new kennels were going nicely, and would be complete before winter.
    The scent of her bed and the sound of finches at the window mixed with her familiar touch, and he found himself relaxing in a way he hadn’t in weeks.
    “Canl Daskellin’s due back soon,” she said.
    “Where’s he been?”
    “Northcoast,” Clara said. “Apparently he went out to get allies against Asterilhold, and he’s bringing them back just in time for the victory. I don’t believe anyone expected it all to be over so quickly.”
    “It isn’t over,” Dawson said. “Not really.”
    “Well, of course things will be a bit thin at the harvest,” Clara said. “But next year…”
    Dawson took her hand and rolled back, looking at the ceiling.
    “Next year will be a different place, love,” he said.
    Clara sat up, frowning. He ran his fingertips along the curve of her arm.
    “Is there something I should know?” she asked.
    “No. Only perhaps it would be best if you and Jorey and Sabiha went back to the holding for a bit. Now that we’ve got two baronies to look over, the boys will need to know better how to run the place. And there’s no one better to show them than you.”
    Her face closed.
    “There’s something more coming,” she said. “What’s happened? What are you going to do?”
    “You can’t ask me that, love,” Dawson said. “I’ll be too tempted to tell you. And it’s better for now if I carry this one alone.”
    “Dawson—”
    “I didn’t win this war. And Palliako is a monster, but he didn’t order it. There’s rot at the heart of the empire, and I am doing what honor demands. There’s risk to it, but there’s not an alternative.”
    Clara looked at him for what seemed an hour, her eyes shifting back and forth, searching for something in his expression.
    “You’re moving against Palliako’s priests,” she said.
    “I am doing what honor and duty demand,” Dawson said. “Don’t ask me more than that.”
    She stood, her hands clasped before her.
    “If Jorey and I leave,