‘So you’ve stabbed me in the fucking back.’ His voice had a wounded whine to it. ‘My own wife. I should have left you to the Burners.’ It was his bad luck that this reinvention of the past coincided with a particularly savage cramp, as if there was a fist clenching around her guts. She jerked forwards, showing him her teeth. ‘You fucking did, you treacherous shit! And then you seized the throne against my wishes, and then you killed my brother, and now I’ll make you pay the fucking bill!’
