Silence at Table Fourteen.
"Well," Milan said.
"Well," Jolthar said.
"The Grand Magus just —"
"Yes."
"In front of both —"
"Yes."
Andrion reached for the wine carafe, found it empty, and looked at it with the betrayed expression of a man who had been promised a lifeline and received a napkin.
"I need," he said, "considerably more alcohol."
Sarojina signaled a servant for another carafe. Her hand was perfectly steady. Her eyes were not.
"That woman," she said quietly, watching Devaryna's white figure settle at the dais like a single snowflake landing on a dark river, "is more dangerous than both empresses combined."
Malyani looked at Jolthar.
"She looked at you."
"She did."
"And she smiled. In front of the entire court. After stopping two imperial entourages from drawing blood."
"I noticed."
Malyani looked at Milan and said, "Your friend is not going to survive this city, and it won't be the swords that kill him."
Milan looked at Jolthar and said, "I know."
