“Well, that certainly raised the temperature,” King Gualtiero mused, earning laughter from the crowd. His gaze returned to Gosto. “As for your bond... I’ll decide after midnight.”

Mockery dripped from every word.

“Until then, enjoy yourselves,” he added, passing his glass to a servant and descending from the podium. Anselmo followed, smirking.

“What does that mean?” I whispered. “What now?”

Gosto exhaled slowly, still holding my wrist. “Now they watch us. After ...