"The negotiations with the Guild Masters in Blackwell didn’t go well," Hugo said, flashing Isabell a brief, wry smile as she helped Samira back to her seat among the Blackwell party. "Master Isabell is fierce, sharp-witted, and knows her worth... The same couldn’t be said for Lord Owain and his offer."

"Mind your words, Hugo," Owain snapped. "We were more than generous..."

"No we weren’t," Hugo countered, surprising himself with the outburst. "No, we weren’t generous at all. The treasury has bled dry in the years since the War of Inches. Most of the riches are gone, taken by the Crown as tribute, spent on feasts and lavish gifts to secure the Church’s support for the Holy War..."

"We arrived in Blackwell with a few small chests, no bigger than a loaf of bread," Hugo explained, revealing to many in the Great Hall, for the first time, how badly depleted the Lothian treasury had become in order to secure the Church’s support. "The jewels and precious metals from Airgead Mountain were worth two-thirds of what we expected, if not half."

"It was still a luxurious sum," Owain started, only for Hugo to interrupt him yet again.

"Not to the Masters of Blackwell," Hugo said, shaking his head. "If not for the support of Count Rhys and the loyalty Master Isabell held for Lady Ashlynn, they wouldn’t have been wrong to send us on our way," he said, returning his focus to the Lothian Court. "And that made Lord Owain furious."

"After our first day at the negotiating table, Owain sent me to find him ’companionship’ for the evening," Hugo said. "He was specific in his instructions. He wanted a woman who was blonde, buxom, and not too tall," he said, glancing awkwardly at Ashlynn where she stood before the dais.

"You are consistent, Husband, I grant you that," Ashlynn said with a sigh. "Chasing my ghost?"

Owain refused to rise to the bait, glowering at her while his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword at his waist. He’d been humiliated enough over Samira, who arrived with a child in her belly. At this point, what did a bit of fun with a brothel girl matter?

"If, if he was," Hugo said, swallowing heavily as he resumed his tale. "Then he wasn’t much kinder to the young lady I hired than he was to you," Hugo said. Ashlynn’s eyes opened wide at his words, already suspecting what she was about to hear, and Hugo’s next words confirmed it.

"I didn’t know the first thing about hiring a lady of the night," Hugo said. "I needed Sir Rain to show me the way. When we did, the young lady seemed very pleasant; she was happy to entertain a young lord for the evening... But Lord Owain was, was very rough with her."

"I, I offered up more than a dozen silver pennies to compensate her suffering," Hugo added quickly. "Enough to go to the temple for healing. The mistress of the house demanded it because, without a miracle from the Church, she wouldn’t... she wouldn’t have been ’pretty’ enough to work again."

At the Blackwell table, High Priest Aubin closed his eyes and hung his head, imagining the sort of injuries that would require a woman to seek out the help of the Church for a miracle of healing. They went far beyond blackened eyes and split lips... A crushed nose was more likely, or if her jaw was delicate, a break there... missing teeth, perhaps. Things that, left on their own, would never fully heal and would leave a woman in pain for the remainder of her days.

To hear that Lord Owain had been so... savage sent chills down the old man’s spine.

"It happened more than once," Hugo said softly into a room that had gone very quiet. "Eleven times. We only stayed in Blackwell County for a few months, long enough to arrive at a deal with the Guild Masters, though Marquis Bors had to agree to grant knighthood to several of the Guild Masters in exchange for their support."

"In those weeks, while we waited for word to arrive from home," Hugo said. "Lord Owain was at his worst. If, if not for Count Rhys’s Steward, Sir Mor, it might have been worse. When it reached a point that no brothel would take Lord Owain’s coin, Sir Mor helped to find other ’diversions.’ Hunts with the local knights and barons. Trips to the islands off the shore..."

"You conspired against me," Owain snapped, glowering at his former Steward. "No wonder it seemed like the invitations and obligations never ended, you did it deliberately to..."

"I did it to protect you!" Hugo interrupted. "I did it to try, somehow, to stop the word from spreading about the kind of person you were! I, I covered up for you, cleaned up after you and tried to find a way to keep things from getting any worse," he said, clutching at the bone hilt of his knife with one hand while the other formed a fist to thump on the table.

"I thought I was doing my duty," Hugo said, his voice finally cracking under the strain. "And if I didn’t do my duty well and find you a woman to beat, then you beat me instead," he blurted. "You and Sir Rain and the ’training’ to be a ’real knight,’" Hugo cried as a tear rolled down his sharply featured face.

"I did what you asked of me, whatever you asked of me, and so much more that you never said a word about," Hugo continued, pouring out his grievances as the dam within his heart finally broke. "And for that, for that you ’rewarded me’ with your trust. And you sent me to do things that were even worse."

"Hugo, that’s enough," Owain said. "You swore to me..."

"I don’t care," Hugo snapped. "I don’t care if I’m an oathbreaker. I can’t keep your secrets, Lord Owain. Not anymore. Not after... after all this," he said, gesturing broadly at the hall.

"You murdered your own father," Hugo said, shocking the entire hall with his explosive accusation. "And I, I was the one who bought the poison for you to do it!"