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their joyless revenge of the murderess. The scene was clear. And glaring truths could never be trusted.
    “Exquisitely done as always, my cream crumpet.” Tethiel reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “My child.”
    The Bleeding Maiden was grinning. She sprang off the wall, and the nails ripped out with her in a spray of red clay. She dripped as she curtsied. “Father, I was ever so worried for you.”
    How his death would delight her. “If the lady had refused me I’d be in agony. But she accepted, so the anguish is greater.”
    “Then it’s true? You’re engaged to the gem witch?”
    “The Lady of Gems told me yes. Which just goes to show that even a woman as spectacular as her has her failings.”
    “I’m so happy for you.” The Bleeding Maiden clutched the nail driven into her heart. “May your nights be starless glee. May you never have cause to regret.”
    She hid her true feelings well. He couldn’t see or smell any hatred in her at this news, no fright that any moment might begin a fight to the death. Or maybe she wasn’t scared. Maybe she didn’t fear him anymore.
    He could never allow her to rule. She had no appreciation for clothes. Look at that dress. No substance at all. It was mostly blood.
    Hiresha, now there was a woman who knew her clothes. You could see her genius in their cut, their patterns. And she was hiding them under plain robes. She should never live in fear of the opinion of others. They should fear hers.
    The Bleeding Maiden twisted at the nail in her chest as if she lacked the strength to wrench it free. “I never would’ve had the courage. To marry an outsider. The others, they’ll say the Father of Nightmares should wed one of his kind. Or no one.”
    Tethiel brushed at his coat as if to remove a bit of lint that wasn’t there. He could never be happy if he weren’t courting disaster.
    “Love must’ve made you fearless.” She reached for him with a trembling arm. Blood was livid on her palm. “So many of my brothers and sisters will say the gem witch is muzzling you. That you’re making yourself weak to please her.”
    The Bleeding Maiden thought that. Her and far too many other Feasters. He said, “I pride myself in my weaknesses. Because of them, seven Bright Palms were extinguished tonight. While your strength has only murdered a few villagers.”
    Her upraised hand fluttered over her shoulder in a pose of perfect helplessness. “What will my brothers do? Once they were proud hunters. What will my sisters do? Once they ruled the night as queens.”
    “Those who aim high will always hit low. That’s their tragedy. Those who aim at the middle will always get it. That’s theirs,” he said, “I aim low and am thus blessed.”
    “They may say you betrayed your family. All for the gem witch.”
    “If you ruled, then you would have your petty Feasts.” He waved to the corpses. “Your peanut victories over towns, over a city or two. Like so many lords of nightmare before you, now long dead.”
    She wrenched at the nail in her chest. It slid out an inch.
    “Your success would be your ruin. The Lands of Loam would fear you, enough that every third son would spit out his soul to become a Bright Palm. The realms would unite against you. You’d make heroes of your enemies. They would sing ballads of how they butchered you and your brothers and sisters. If you ruled, you would die.”
    The nail slipped from between her breasts with a sucking sound. It clattered to the floor. She pressed her fingers against the wound, trying to staunch it. There was too much blood. Her lips mouthed, “Help.”
    Tethiel tightened his hands at his sides into fists. How impossible not to reach out to the Bleeding Maiden. To save her. To earn her thanks and her trust. Even though she was in no true danger. Even though it would be him who drowned in her blood.
    He mustn’t succumb. A gentleman did not propose to a woman then allow himself to die the next day.
    The Bleeding