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“Can you refuse?”

“Not directly.”

“And he wants me delivered right away.”

“We’re out of time.” Don rolled the letter up and placed it on the table. “He’ll make his move tomorrow.”

“Should we ride for Corlivo in the morning?” I asked.

“He’ll come after us,” Don said. “The unrest in the city might give us some cover, but even with that, we won’t get far.”

“He’ll expect me to comply,” Sebastianus said. “It wouldn’t occur to him that I’d risk his displeasure for the sake of a woman. Perhaps I can stall long enough to give you time to get away, Anna.”

“We need a diversion,” Don said suddenly.

“Explain,” Sebastianus said.

“Let me send a message first.” Don left the room quickly.

I was suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted. Now that the summons had arrived, all the bravery of the past twenty-four hours seeped out of me like water from a cracked cup, leaving me frightened and weary. I had convinced myself that despite everything I had been warned about, somehow, I would achieve my goal without any real harm. But I had been wrong.

“Seb, I am so sorry I brought this upon us. You tried to warn me.”

He seemed similarly deflated. He picked up the scroll again and crumpled it in his hands. “Yes. I tried to warn you.” He threw the ball of parchment into a far corner of the room. “My uncle gets what he wants, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

In his sad, angry face, I saw the shadow of the young boy who had been powerless to save his mother from Jovinian’s lust and greed. I took a step toward him. “We can’t simply give up.”

He whirled around, a glower of anger on his face. “You wanted to talk to his courtesans, and you had your way. You knew the risk, and you took it. When Jovinian is satiating himself with you, let it be a comfort to you that no one caged you.”

I was frozen to the spot, stunned by the hostility in his tone. In an instant, he seemed like a stranger to me. A corresponding flame of anger burst to life in me. How dare he mock my desire for freedom?

“Perhaps you should take a lesson and stand up to him for a change instead of begging for his approval like a child.”

In a fury he swung his walking stick across the table, sweeping everything onto the floor: maps, papers, books, a pot of ink. “You think he’ll sit around talking with you about history and politics?” he hissed. “You understand nothing. He’ll have you like an animal, crawling on your knees for mercy.”

The impact of his words hit me like a blow.

There was a knock at the door.

Sebastianus did not move.

After a few seconds, the knock came again.

“Come in,” I called, hoping no one could hear the tremble in my voice.

Cornelia stood nervously at the door, surveying the mess in the room. I wondered how much she had heard.

“There’s a young woman at the door asking for Anna. She seems very distressed.”

Sebastianus jerked his head up. “Who’s here for Anna? Describe her. What does she look like?”

Cornelia hesitated. “She’s quite—quite pretty, Your Grace. She reminds me a bit of Anna in that way.”

“I’ll see what it’s about, Cornelia,” I said.

“No,” he growled. “You will stay here.”

“As I said, I’ll see what it is about.” I could hear the steel in my own voice, and I was grateful for it. Better than bursting into tears, which I felt right on the edge of doing.