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hair must be wild. My face must be pale. I cannot keep my lower lip from trembling. But I force myself to look into his hard eyes. "Prince Agathocles hatched a plan the moment we arrived in Thrace. He saw me and he was jealous of you. Ask yourself, would a loyal son wait all this time to tell you of an unfaithful wife? He waited until you sent midwives to me. He waited until the moment he was most afraid I would give you a
better
son."
    Prince Agathocles shouts an objection, but the king raises a hand to silence him. Then the king looks at me and his eyes narrow shrewdly. "Yet you were caught tonight in the garden with Cassander."
    I'm not guilty of what they accuse me. Still, I'm not innocent. It doesn't matter. To save Cassander's life, I'll say anything. I'll pretend anything. "I was lured there by the prince," I say.
    "Do you deny that you sent messages to Cassander?"
    "I wrote only once." This is actually the truth. "And I wrote nothing shameful. This I swear on the River Styx."
     
    I spend that night locked away. Under guard. The dog bite still seeps blood and throbs with pain. Yet, that's drowned out by the sound of my racing heart beat.
    I'm afraid for my life. I'm more afraid for Cassander.
    Why wasn't he dragged before the king as I was? What have they done with him and where is he now? I shuffle on the tile floor, back and forth, until I'm so tired and thirsty that I sink to my knees.
    In the morning, a servant dresses me in my finest garments. The expensive linen from Egypt. The pearls that were a gift at my wedding. The jeweled diadem for my hair. Whatever fate I meet today, I'll meet it in royal fashion.
    Led into the throne room, I see the court assembled. The king doesn't look at me. He is dressed formally, standing the way he does when he makes judgments. I'm the one to be judged. He'll pronounce me guilty or innocent.
    I'm so afraid that I must push hard on the floor to keep myself standing.
    King Lysimachus holds forth a scrap of paper and begins to read.
     
    I am the Queen of Thrace. I am married. You are my stepson. Even if you weren't, you are a bastard. You are a stable hand. To love you would be to bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father and Egypt besides. I will not do it. I will not meet you. The only favor I can bestow upon you is my silence. For your own sake, I implore you to burn this letter and never write to me again. — Queen Arsinoë
     
    It is the letter I wrote to Cassander. How horrible to hear my harsh words, spoken with the king's contempt. This letter absolves me but condemns Cassander. He should have burned this letter. He should have burned it! I glance at Princess Eurydice, wondering what trick this is. But the girl they call Bunny is dressed in a simple gown today, and she looks as surprised as I am. From his spot beside his sister, Prince Agathocles gapes, then snaps his mouth shut.
    My husband the king takes a long, shuddering breath then says, "This letter was found amongst Cassander's belongings. It's proof of Arsinoë's innocence. Proof of her virtue."
    I wilt with relief.
    Then the king says, "Let the stain and the sin fall upon Cassander. He's confessed to an intention to betray me by seducing my queen. Tomorrow he'll be put to death."
    Now I fear I will faint dead away.
No!
How could Cassander confess to such a thing? And why should he pay for it with his life? "But—but he is your son. Cassander is your
son !"
    "My bastard," the king says, letting his eyes fall upon Prince Agathocles. "And let Cassander's death be a warning to
all
my sons."
     
    The sentence having been pronounced, the court files out. King Lysimachus and I are left alone in the throne room, burning oil lamps throwing ghostly shadows on the walls.
    "Come, take your throne," the king says.
    I'm shaking all over. I don't think I can walk. But I must convince him, somehow, to change his mind about Cassander. Tentatively I sit beside him, cradling my wounded wrist in my