Outrage filled me. “She was nothing of the kind!” I barked. I had never imagined that I would be defending Carsina’s reputation, let alone to her husband. But as I recalled her, I could not keep quiet. “She was a frightened girl, terrified that if you knew she’d been engaged to a man you despised, you’d break your word to her. She was not wise or temperate, but she was certainly not a slut. I knew her since she was a little girl, and I can vouch for that. She’d thought she’d found true love with you.” I’d advanced to the edge of his desk. Now I leaned over it, hands braced on it as I forced the truth on him. Epiny was right. Some people definitely deserved to hear the truth. “Her dying words were spoken of you, with love. She asked me to go and fetch you, because you’d promised you wouldn’t leave her side. Yes, I gave her my bed to lie down on. But I never touched her that night, sir. And when we were engaged, I might have stolen a kiss or two, but certainly no more than that!”
He stared at me in consternation. “But…your brother…” He leaned back in his chair, tipping his head up to lock eyes with me. I stared back, made both fearless and foolish by my anger. “No,” he said, and his voice quavered. “It’s you. It was you. You’re Nevare Burvelle. But…you were…you were—I killed you.” He rose from his desk, nearly knocking his chair over as he scrambled away from me. He held his hands, fingers crooked, out in front of him. They were shaking. “I choked you with these hands. My fingers sank into your fat throat, and you screamed for mercy, even as I imagined that Carsina had screamed. But I gave you no mercy, for you’d had no mercy on her—”
“I never hurt Carsina. And you didn’t kill me,” I said flatly. “That’s a false memory.”
“I killed you.” He spoke with absolute certainty. “You pissed yourself and when I let your body fall to the street, my men cheered. I’d done what any honorable man would do. I’d avenged my wife’s violation.” His voice faded. He looked at his desk. His face was pale and sweat stood out on his forehead. “But then I found the letters. She’d made a fool of me. All those sweet words, all her shyness and hesitation—all to mock me.” His voice dropped on those words, chopping them out. “Did you laugh at me together, when she crept off to see you? Did you enjoy your charades in the street, to make everyone think you did not know each other? Did you laugh at me when you were touching that body, kissing those lips? That harlot’s lips!”
“Don’t say those things about her,” I warned him in a quiet, deadly voice. I defended the thoughtless, careless little girl I’d known. “She was no harlot, sir. She was alone. Childish,” I said. “Frightened. Too filled with heart and not enough head. Dreaming of romance with a handsome cavalla officer. A girl forced by circumstance into a woman’s role.”
I doubt that he heard a word I’d said. The man was unhinged. “I killed you,” he repeated, staring at me. “I remember that night so clearly. I stood like a man and took a man’s vengeance. But now it’s all changed to shame and dishonor. Because she lied to me. She lied to me.” His eyes lit with a sudden, cruel hope. “But you did those other things, didn’t you? You killed that whore, Fala. You poisoned those men. You still deserved to die!”
“No,” I said quietly. I was edging slowly around the desk, moving toward him. I’d take him down quickly. I didn’t want him to shout for the Sergeant. “I didn’t do those things. And I didn’t deserve to die.”
He looked at me. His breath was coming in little shaking gasps. “How can you be here?” he asked, and his voice broke on the words, going high as a boy’s. “I killed you. How can you be here, so changed from the monster you were?”
“Magic,” I said flatly. I was suddenly finished arguing with him. Logic has no impact on a crazy man. I felt only disgust for a man who would blame his bad choices on his dead child-bride. I had no time to bother with him. “Magic has brought me back. And I’ve come for only one thing. I’ll keep you from killing another innocent person. Give me the key to the jail where Amzil is held. Give me the key, and we’ll both vanish from your life. You’ll never have to think about us again. You can forget all about us.”
His hand betrayed him. It darted toward his coat pocket, as if to protect the hidden keys from me. Then he caught himself and suddenly quiet seemed to flow over him. “No,” he said softly. “No. You aren’t real. This is another dream, isn’t it? Another nightmare.” He pointed an accusing finger at me. “The doctor said the tonic was supposed to stop these nightmares.” He seemed to expect I would vanish.