William closed his eyes briefly.
Ah. There it was.
A child giving warning to other children because adults had become the monsters in the room.
How utterly vile.
I folded my hands together and smiled.
My smile must have been unpleasant because Bernard turned pale.
"Spiro," I said. "You are doing very well."
He looked up at me, uncertain.
"I know this is difficult."
"I can continue," he said quickly.
"I know."
His mouth closed.
"You are brave," I continued. "But bravery does not require you to bleed every memory out at once. We will proceed carefully."
His shoulders lowered, though his eyes shone faintly. He was holding back tears with the determination of someone who had learned tears were expensive.
They were not. Not anymore. And certainly not here.
I reached across the table and tapped the paper where Ansel's name was written.
"This name appeared in a palace record connected to the Crown Prince's childhood rite."
Spiro blinked.
"The Crown Prince?"
"Yes."
