"What it is is justice." Jacquard's voice was sharp, although there was an odd tremble at the back of it. "I served under your father, Roland, and I did it gladly. And I served you this long, callow boy though you are, for the blood in your veins. You've felt your way through this war and you've lost hundreds who might have lived."

"Henry." Roland took a step closer, unflinching. "If this is about your son... we have all taken losses. But this is madness."

Jacquard laughed hoarsely and humourlessly, shaking his head. "Will? He's gone. I kennit. No, this is about her." With his free hand, he jerked a thumb at Nariko, real hate in his eyes. "After all we've fought for, all we've lost... all your father died for, you'll bed down with Farson's whore?"