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wall towards them. “Just checking to see if I can help.”
    Buxton hissed out a laugh. “I’ll bet you are.”
    “Grandeur at a good price?” She raised an eyebrow. “Public but not flashy?”
    A lump caught in Crispin’s throat. Whatever game Aubrey was playing needed to stop. “Aubrey, let me take you out to the cloister. Perhaps we could-”
    “What did you have in mind?” Buxton interrupted.
    “Well, you could make a show of pardoning someone. Restoring their lands?”
    A cold wave of suspicion twisted Crispin’s stomach.
    Buxton laughed. Aubrey laughed with him. Buxton’s face fell and he glared at her. “Get out.” He pushed past her towards the door. Crispin followed, shooting Aubrey a warning glance.
    “Wait!” Aubrey jumped after them, catching up in the hall. “What about Ethan of Windale?”
    Buxton spun to face her. Crispin stopped between them. The air in the hallway sizzled. “What about him?”
    “Well….” Aubrey took half a step back. “Are you at least going to try to find him?” When Buxton just glared at her she went on. “To, um, bring him to justice I mean.”
    Crispin narrowed his eyes. As much as he would have loved to see Ethan hang for treason, hearing the suggestion from Aubrey’s lips sent a chill down his spine. The memory of her laughter as she clung to Ethan’s arm at the party assaulted him. “Aubrey, I-”
    “It just so happens,” Buxton cut him off again without so much as a glance, “that I’ve already got a doling out of justice in the works.” Crispin snapped his mouth shut and whipped his head to Buxton in surprise. Buxton indulged him with a lazy grin. “No, I don’t tell you everything, Crispy,” he answered the unasked question then shrugged as if it were inconsequential and started walking again. “That murderer who escaped, the boy who slit his lord’s throat in his sleep and slipped through your fingers last month, he’s been found. I thought we could have a trial for him. Well, I thought we could hang, draw, and quarter him really. That counts as a trial, doesn’t it?” Aubrey started to speak again but Buxton cut her off as he reached the stairs. “Get rid of her, Crispy, will you?” He didn’t wait for an answer before fixing Crispin with a flat grimace and charging up the stairs.
    Crispin rounded on Aubrey, temper flaring. “What are you playing at?”
    “Who would slit their own lord’s throat?” She ignored his question.
    “Aubrey,” his voice shook with frustration.
    She smiled and laid a hand on his chest. “How are your ribs? That looked like it hurt.” Her eyes flickered to the wolf-head dagger in his belt and she flushed.
    He sighed, shoulders sinking. “They’re-” He reached to put his hand over hers. She retreated. His jaw clenched as he stared at the spot where her hand had been and he sucked in a deliberate breath. “Are you in league with Windale?”
    “Oh no,” she spun back, “I-” Her smiling mouth clamped shut and she colored. “I don’t want anything to do with him after all that treason he spoke.”
    Crispin studied her, eyes calculating. He knew when he was being lied to. “Neither do I.” He regretted how exhausted he sounded. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go for a walk?”
    “No, I don’t think….” Her words trailed off as she stared over his shoulder at nothing, then focused on him. “Yes.” She smiled again and stepped forward to take his arm. He cradled her hand in his elbow and tried to fight the sensation that the world was tilted on its ear as he walked along the hall towards the door leading to the cloister. “So tell me about this lord-murderer.” She batted her eyelashes, causing a hopeless squeezing in his chest. “Where did it happen?”
     
    By the time Aubrey rode into the small clearing deep in Derbywood where Ethan, Toby, Jack, and Tom had set up camp she was brimming with excitement at everything she had managed to pump out of Crispin that morning. Whether