The Stone Throne had been designed to make every man before it look temporary.
Saughtrick stood beneath its shadow in a travelling coat tailored before he agreed to wear it. His wrists were bandaged. His shoulder ached beneath the physician's work. He kept his eyes on the dark seam between two floorstones because looking at Hamrick would invite the old instincts of soldier, subject, and rebel to argue over which one should kneel.
Chancellor Boldermore stood three paces to his right.
King Hamrick sat with one hand against his jaw and studied Saughtrick as if examining a weapon returned from rust.
"My father once told me," Hamrick said, "that fate is merely the name of a god that weak men pray to decisions made before they entered the room."
Saughtrick heard the old king's voice in the sentence and hated Hamrick for borrowing it.
"Your father said many things to sons who heard only permission," he replied.
Boldermore's breathing paused.
Hamrick smiled. "Prison has not improved your caution."
"It had little to work with."
The king descended one step from the throne. "Two days from now the city will watch Captain Ulkhander die. Then a nameless traitor will ride north carrying proof that the crown manufactured the case against his daughter. House Beldor will see a broken man. Prince Eugert will see an ally."
Saughtrick kept his eyes on the floor. "And what should I see?"
"A chance to change your daughter's fate."
"Fate again."
"You object to the word?"
"I object to men who sharpen a knife and blame the future for the cut."
The side doors opened before Hamrick could answer.
A royal intelligence clerk entered at a near run, caught himself at the edge of the throne's mosaic, and knelt. Road dust marked the hem of his coat.
"Your Majesty. Chancellor. A confirmed movement from Hillbeard."
Boldermore extended a hand. "Report."
The clerk crossed the floor on his knees to deliver a narrow dispatch tube. Boldermore broke the wax, read the first page, and looked up at once.
Hamrick held out his hand.
"Denedrick has moved three household companies from the eastern farms to the inner estate," Boldermore said as he surrendered the report. "His roads are closed. Messenger birds diverted. The bridge watch has doubled."
"He prepares for siege," Hamrick said.
"Or wants us to think he does."
The king read farther. His expression hardened.
"House Falgor," he said.
Boldermore watched him. "Majesty?"
"Send the iron summons. Every sworn rider they can field. Their lord will answer in person."
The chancellor's face remained composed, but Saughtrick knew the small signs. The lowered chin meant resistance. The thumb resting too precisely against the second finger meant he had already calculated three disasters and found a fourth waiting behind them.
"Calling Falgor openly tells Denedrick we are moving against him," Boldermore said.
"Denedrick already knows," the king replied.
"It tells every house between here and Hillbeard."
"Good. Let them choose where they stand before I arrive."
Boldermore bowed, not in agreement but in acceptance of jurisdiction. "I will send it."
The intelligence clerk remained kneeling.
"There is another report," he said.
Boldermore took the second page.
This one he read twice.
"The Church has redirected its field personnel in Erenora," he said. "Three observers have withdrawn from House Beldor's southern roads. A fourth abandoned the artifact watch near the east gate."
Hamrick folded the first report. "To where?"
"The garrison district. Then the arena road."
Saughtrick's eyes lifted before he could stop them.
Boldermore noticed. Of course he noticed.
"Kavie," Saughtrick said.
The king's gaze found him. "You were not invited into this discussion."
"Then discuss it more quietly."
Hamrick descended another step.
Boldermore moved between the sentence and whatever punishment it invited. "The arena preparations must advance. Clear the lower receiving chambers tonight. Double the interior guard, but keep uniforms beneath the public level. If the Church is bringing Valerie there, we need to know why before they cross the outer gate."
Saughtrick took one step toward him. Pain pulled across his shoulder.
"You promised capture alive."
"I promised orders," Boldermore said. His eyes met Saughtrick's at last. "Kavie does not belong to me."
"He serves the crown."
Hamrick answered from the throne steps. "Kavie serves usefulness. At present, ours and the Church's overlap."
Saughtrick's hands closed.
The bandages reddened across both wrists.
"If she dies," he said, "House Beldor will be the smallest problem you have left."
Hamrick regarded him for a long moment.
"There," the king said quietly. "That is the man Denedrick must believe."
Saughtrick understood then that even his threat had been measured for him.
Boldermore dismissed the clerk and turned toward the preparation doors. "Ready the arena," he ordered the waiting secretary. "No public announcement. No Church insignia above ground. And find out who changed their objective."
The secretary bowed and left.
Saughtrick lowered his eyes to the floor again.
Not in submission.
This time, he was memorising the way out.