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“Neither could I,” he said.

“You knew Gregory was in the oubliette, but you didn’t know what they’d done to him, did you?”

He shook his head, kneeling on the bones, still staring down at the bloody earplug, like it held answers to questions too hard to ask out loud. “Jacob knew.”

“You’re Ulfric, Richard, you should know what’s done in your pack’s name.”

The anger flared so hot and tight that it filled the little cave like water just this side of boiling. Gregory whimpered and watched Richard with fearful eyes.

“I know, Anita, I know.”

“So you’re not going to put Jacob down here?”

“I am, but not like this. He can stay down here, but not chained, not tortured.” Richard glanced around the tiny space. “Being down here at all is torture enough.”

I didn’t even try to argue that one. “What about whoever helped him?”

Richard looked at me. “I’ll find out who helped him.”

“Then what?”

He closed his eyes, and it wasn’t until he opened his hand and I saw the flash of blood that I realized he’d pressed the silver point into his palm. He pulled it out and stared at the bright flash of blood.

“You just keep pushing, don’t you, Anita.”

“The pack knows you well enough, Richard. They know you didn’t mean for anyone to be put down here, especially not with all Raina’s old accoutrements. Doing this at all was a challenge to your authority.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t want to fight, Richard, but you have to punish them for this. If you don’t, then you lose more ground to Jacob. Even if you put him down here, it won’t stop things. Everyone that touched this has to suffer.”

“You’re not angry now,” he said, and he looked puzzled. “I thought you wanted revenge, but you seem cold about it all, now.”

“I wanted revenge, but you’re right, I couldn’t do this to anyone, and I can’t order done what I wouldn’t do myself. Just a rule I’ve got. But the pack is a mess, and if you want to stop the downward slide and keep them from a civil war, werewolf against werewolf, you must be harsh. You must make it clear that is not acceptable.”

“It isn’t,” he said.

“There’s only one way for them to know that, Richard.”

“Punishment,” he said, and he made the word sound like a curse.

“Yes,” I said.

“I’ve worked for months—no, years—to try and get away from a punitive system. You want me to throw away all that I’ve worked for and go back to the way it was.”

Gregory’s hand came up, slowly, painfully, to clutch weakly at my arm. I stroked his matted hair, and his voice came out hoarse, abused, as if even through the gag, he’d been screaming for days. “I want . . . out of. . . here. Please.”

I nodded my head so he could see it, and a relief so large it was beyond words flashed through his eyes.

I looked up at Richard. “If your system worked better than the old one, then I’d support it, but it’s not working. I’m sorry that it’s not working, Richard, but it’s not. If you continue this. . . experiment in democracy and gentler, kinder laws, people are going to die. Not just you, but Sylvie, and Jamil, and Shang-Da, and every wolf that supports you. But it’s worse than that, Richard. I watched the pack. They’re divided almost evenly. It will be civil war, and they will tear each other to bits—Jacob’s followers and the ones who won’t follow him. Hundreds will die, and the Thronnos Rokke Clan may die with it. Look at the throne you’re sitting on as Ulfric. It’s ancient, you can feel it. Don’t let everything that it stands for be destroyed.”

He stared down at the still-bleeding wound in his hand. “Let’s get Gregory out of here.”

“You’ll punish Jacob, but not the others,” I said, and my voice was tired.

“I’ll find out who they are first, then we’ll see.”

I shook my head. “I love you, Richard.”

“I hear a ‘but,’ coming.”

“But I value the people who count on me for their safety more than I value that love.” It felt cold and awful saying it out loud, but it was true.

“What does that say about your love?” he asked.

“Don’t go all sanctimonious on me, Richard. You dropped me like yesterday’s news when the pack voted me out. You could have said,