Edward wasn’t exaggerating about how good the cinnamon bites taste: they're soft and light with such a sweet cinnamon-y taste. He even lets me have more than one.

After an hour and a half of my interrogating him on his family history – it’s fascinating, and I wish I had notes or books to cross-reference everything he mentions – there’s only one cinnamon bite left. I stare longingly at it and wish Edward hadn’t put the plate just out of my reach.

He sees the direction of my gaze and shakes his head. “I’m saving the last one for my dad. I think he’s going to need it after… well.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“He will remind you when he gets here. I’ll try and get him to be nice, but…”

But there is a limit to how nice Lord Blackthorn is capable of being. At least I’m not likely to have a Malaina episode, having come so close to the edge before. “Fine…” I mutter. “But he’d better arrive soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can resist the temptation.”

“You don’t need to,” Edward says. “I warded the plate so we can’t touch it.”

“…you can cast wards?”

He shrugs. “That’s about the limit of my capabilities right now. I’ve only been teaching myself warding for a few days.”

I laugh. He really doesn’t understand how extraordinary he is, does he?

“Speaking of magic,” he says, “how would you like another lesson in triggered enchantments?”

“Is this really the best time?” I ask.

Edward shrugs. “You’d be surprised. Often when you’ve just had a near-death experience you feel as if you could do anything. That feeling is very useful when it comes to casting difficult new magic.”

I stare at him for a long moment. “There are so many things wrong with that I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m not going to deliberately seek out near-death experiences to learn new magic, don’t worry. Enough of my ancestors died doing that to teach the survivors that it was a stupid idea.”

He’s serious, I realise. Sometimes it feels like his family are a completely different species to the rest of us. “I don’t feel like that,” I say. “Not at all.”

He shrugs. “I do, a little. I think that’s why the warding worked so well just now. Just knowing we’re both safe is magical.”

“Go ahead and teach yourself something, then. I’ll watch.”

“Maybe I will,” he says. “I just need to – “

And then there’s a flash of scarlet and Lord Blackthorn is standing on the rug in front of us.

“How is she?” he asks Edward, not even needing a second to find his footing after teleporting.

“She’ll live. Though it’s best she gets to a doctor sooner rather than later.”

“I’ll be quick, then. What in stars’ names were you thinking?”

Edward hesitates, glancing at me.

“…that we wanted to go to the execution?” I try.

Lord Blackthorn sighs and reaches for the last cinnamon bite. His hand bounces off the air a few inches above the plate. He claws at the air and then jerks his hand back. When he reaches for the bite again nothing stops him, and he slips it into his mouth.

He doesn’t seem particularly impressed with his son’s achievement.

“And why didn’t you tell me that was your intention?”

Oh. That is why Edward hesitated. Because now we have to explain it to him. This time I glance to him.

“Because…” he begins. “Because I wanted to see the consequences. Of what we did. Of what you did.”

Lord Blackthorn shrugs. “He was a traitor. And his daughter is no better.”

Does he just… not care, at all? Does he not even feel regret at the loss of a life?

“That doesn’t make your response right.”

“You’re free. You’re safe. Justice has been served. That is what’s right. It’s beside the point now, though. So you went to the execution, without telling me. And when the riot broke out you…”

“Tried to get out,” Edward says. “Only I lost Tallulah in the crowd.”

“And you went back for her.”

“I had to.”

“Do you have no regard for your personal safety?” Lord Blackthorn asks. His tone is calm, but there’s an all-too-familiar edge to it.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Some risks are worth taking,” Edward says flatly.

“Edward. Your life is more important than – “

“Than Tallulah’s?” Edward snaps, and now he too speaks with that deceptively mild intensity. “That was what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

“I – “

“How dare you even suggest such a thing. I regret nothing about what I did today. I would die for Tallulah.”

He means it. There’s no denying that after what he did today. He could have just left me and hoped I’d find my own way out, but instead he came back for me. He risked everything to defend me.

What have I done to deserve that kind of loyalty?

“You would,” Lord Blackthorn says with detached curiosity. He turns to study me. “I suppose there are worse choices. Well, then we shall simply have to make sure you have no need to die for her. I can have a set of emergency enchantments delivered to you, Tallulah, by the end of next week – sooner, with luck, but dealing with the aftermath of this riot is going to drain a lot of time – and I’ll see about teaching you some basic defensive spells – “

“I learnt the ones you showed me from the textbook,” Edward interrupts. “I can teach Tallulah – “

“Hold on,” I say. “Emergency enchantments? Defensive spells? I don’t want – “

“This isn’t about what you want – “

“This is his way of saying he approves of our friendship,” Edward says. “Just go along with it.”

It’s a funny way of showing he approves of me. But then, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised given who he is. “O…kay,” I say slowly. “But you’re not giving me anything enchanted without explaining exactly what it does.”

“Of course,” Lord Blackthorn replies.

“And I’m – I’m a normal person. I’m not like you or Edward. Just… please, don’t expect me to be.”

He sighs. “If you wanted to stay normal, you’ve made poor choices.”

By which he means: being a normal person and having Edward Blackthorn for a best friend are mutually exclusive. He’s wrong. Stars, I hope he’s wrong. “What I mean,” I try, “is that I’m not – not one of your people.”

“I never asked you to be. I know you don’t particularly like me, but as long as you don’t force me to save you again – “

I can’t take it any more. “You do understand,” I say, “that you would never have had to save me at all if you had just spared Mildred’s father?”

“Don’t try to blame me for events that I could have not predicted, which were as much your own fault as mine.”

“Don’t,” Edward snaps, “try to blame Tallulah for this. You did this. Thought nothing of throwing away two weeks of Tallulah’s life just so you could get the outcome you wanted. Do you know what that did to her? I do.”

“And instead, you would have me allow a traitor to live.”

Yes. But he’s not talking to me.

Edward hesitates. “If it were me, I would have.”

“With respect, Edward, you are sixteen years old. You are not a politician, or a spy, or a person of power.”

“What does that have to do with – “

“You are not qualified to make these decisions.”

I hate him. Stars, I hate him, but saying that to his face in his own house will not end well. I focus on breathing slowly, calmly.

“Then teach me,” says Edward. “Explain it to me.”

I don’t want an explanation. I don’t want anything from him. If this is what Edward needs to hear, though, I’ll listen. It’s not as if I can go anywhere, after all.

“Very well,” says Lord Blackthorn. “Let’s suppose that immediately upon finding out about the incident in the library, I contact Mildred offering her the deal she wants. What does that lead to?”

I’m guessing the answer he’s looking for isn’t her father lives, she drops the charges against me, everyone is happy. Though that does seem the likely outcome. Am I just naïve?

“She knows she has leverage,” Edward says grimly. “Something you want. You don’t yield to blackmail, ever, not unless you’re sure you can break whatever hold they have.”

Lord Blackthorn nods. “Maybe she’d want his freedom, too. For him to be found innocent, given compensation for the inconvenience of it all. And once she has that, why not demand I promote laws restoring some of the old families’ privileges? Not that that would work,” he adds, smiling wryly. “I’ve found that if I wish a particular law to pass it is often more effective to declare my fervent opposition to it.”

That seems surprisingly plausible: Lord Blackthorn is unpopular enough that many people would vote against a law purely on the basis that he supported it.

“But that’s besides the point. You see what I mean?”

Edward nods. “But couldn’t you have… done something else? Couldn’t you have accused Mildred of baiting Tallulah into her episode – “

“Legal proceedings for something of that nature would take much time, and likely be delayed until after the hearing. And besides: where is the evidence?”

There must be some way of proving it, surely? But when I consider it, I remember that Mildred and I were the only people in the library that day. And when the only witness is also the defendant, there’s no reason a court should believe me rather than assume I’m lying to deny responsibility for my own loss of control.

“Rosie,” says Edward. “She was outside the library. Wouldn’t she have seen – “

“A little. Not enough to prove it beyond reasonable doubt. And she also has the disadvantage of being my niece, which given my reputation means her testimony would not be believed. Are you satisfied?”

“I’m satisfied that what you did was the best way to guarantee my freedom,” I say before Edward can speak. “But… there was nothing stopping you from telling me this as soon as you’d made your decision.”

“Knowledge is power. It must not be spread too widely. There is a saying, you know: two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead.”

I stare at him in silence. Every time he starts to make sense, he says something like this and I wonder why I ever thought I could understand him.

“Tallulah can keep secrets,” Edward says. “She’s kept mine.”

“You told her – “

“Nothing that secret.”

“What, precisely, have you told her?”

Edward closes his eyes in thought for a second. “About the likelihood of war with Sirgal. That you warned me to stay away from Mildred before the Cavendish arrest. She worked that out herself, though, at least partly. And I didn’t tell her until afterwards. Nothing else specific, but… a few details about you. I do understand security.”

Lord Blackthorn grimaces. “I suppose it could be worse. Tallulah, I take it you understand the consequences of letting anyone have that information, for any reason?”

“It would be a betrayal of Edward’s trust. I would lose his friendship.” I know he’s thinking more in terms of treason and national security and things like that, but I want to make a point: I’m Edward’s friend. I’m loyal to him, and very much not to his father.

“Friendship,” Lord Blackthorn repeats, making it sound like an insult.

“Friendship,” Edward repeats. “It’s what it’s called when you have a close emotional relationship with another person.”

“I know what friends are,” he says, and his voice takes on that faint edge of danger again.

The tension is broken by Elspeth, entering the room at a run. “My lord. His Majesty demands your presence at once.”

“Then my presence he shall have,” Lord Blackthorn says flatly. “I’ll have those enchantments to you by the end of the week, Tallulah. Do try not to get yourself killed before then.”

And, once again, he spins around and vanishes.