“Nicely done,” said Tensen.

“Don’t ask me to do this again,” she told them, and left.

Tensen pulled a chair up to Arin’s, sat, and began to dig the glass out of his right hand. After everything else, the sensation of this was oddly satisfying.

“Deliah had some interesting things to share earlier today,” Arin said. Tensen’s tweezers caught a big piece and dragged it out.

“Oh?” Tensen dropped the glass onto a nearby end table.

Arin told him what she had said. The older man listened. The bloodstained shards grew into a little heap.

“This is worth looking into,” Arin said.

“I don’t think Lady Kestrel’s choice of dress is Herran’s greatest priority.”

Arin tightened his hands, then winced as this drove the glass deeper. Tensen, his tweezers lifted, gave him a cool look that told Arin he got what he deserved. “You’re wrong,” Arin said. “The fact that the Senate leader must know about the dress is important. The winnings from a correct bet could buy the Senate leader a small island, and none of the money would come from imperial coffers. Thrynne overheard something between the Senate leader and the emperor. What if the emperor was collecting a favor, and repaying the Senate leader with a tip for the perfect bet? We need to find out what that favor was.”

Tensen prodded a tiny shard to the surface of Arin’s palm. He inspected it.

“And the ruined dress,” Arin continued. “Something dangerous is going on with Kestrel.”

“Vomit on a sleeve and dirt on the knees? Let’s not be dramatic. So the lady drank too much wine and tripped during a tipsy stroll through the Winter Garden. It’s none of our concern.”

“She’s scheming,” Arin insisted. “I can feel it.”

Tensen set down the tweezers. “You’re seeing what you want to see.”

“No, I’m not. That makes no sense. I don’t want her to be in trouble.”

“But maybe you’d like her to be troubled. Unhappy with her new life. What would you do then, Arin? Rescue her from it?”

Arin said nothing.

“She seems happy to me,” said Tensen.

“The dress’s seams were ripped. The skirts were filthy. There’s no mud in the Winter Garden. The garden has flagstones. Where did the stains come from?”

Tensen stared at him. “Arin. I don’t mean to be unkind, and I know you feel that what Deliah said is important, but all I am hearing is an obsession with the prince’s bride and what she likes to wear.”

Arin closed his mouth. He shivered, suddenly chilled by doubt.

“Please,” said Tensen. “Leave the spying to me.”

“But you’ve learned nothing. Not since you told me about Thrynne.”

“All in good time.”

“Is it your new recruit? Has he learned something?” Arin saw Tensen’s expression change slightly. “Or she?”

“Not yet. I’m encouraged that we’ll hear something soon.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like how happy you seem about nothing at all from somebody whose name I don’t know.”

“I think of my informant as the Moth.”

“I want a name.”

“I see. You’re concerned about whether we can trust this person. Don’t be. The Moth is highly motivated to give us what we need.”

Arin slammed his good hand down on the end table. “I will send you back to Herran. I swear that I will pack you onto the next ship there if you don’t tell me who your informant is. Now.”

Tensen swept the scattered shards back into their pile. He relaxed into his chair. His small green eyes were bright. “I noticed you speaking with Princess Risha the other night.”

He fell silent, and the silence began to speak to Arin.

“Yes,” Arin said slowly. “She was upset.”

“Of course. What happened in the plains was tragic. Its people are refugees in the eastern capital. Hundreds died during the trek from the plains.”

“Are you telling me—?”

“It can’t be easy to be a knife held to the throat of one’s own people. That’s why Risha was kidnapped as a child. The emperor can make the eastern queen grieve at a moment’s notice. I’m surprised the emperor hasn’t killed the queen’s little sister already—but then again, that’s a card he can only play once. He must be waiting for the right moment. I wonder what Risha thinks, while he’s waiting.”

Arin absorbed what his minister was saying—or what Arin thought he was saying. It occurred to him that it might be wise to suspect one’s own spymaster, who’d been employed to traffic in deceit. And Tensen had been an actor before the war. But Arin could see no reason for Tensen to pretend that Risha was his Moth. Arin could see why she would work against the empire.

The old man looked at him, his expression kind. Arin suddenly craved kindness. He was seized by a horrible feeling, a familiar one. He’d been caught in its fist for ten years. He was sick of it. Why couldn’t he outgrow it? He was no child. He had no business feeling lonely.

Loss of blood made Arin light-headed. His thoughts seemed to float and drift.

Tensen rose and brought a fresh bowl of water to Arin, who sank his right hand into it.

“Risha is very beautiful,” the minister commented.

“Yes,” Arin said. “She is.” It was hard to think. Arin was so tired.