“Her name is Queen Theodosia, and if you won’t apologize for disrespecting her, I’ll let her men have you and I’ll describe your last moments to your wife so that she knows how pathetically you died.”

Mattin grunts, eyes dropping away. “I apologize,” he says through gritted teeth.

Søren looks tempted to extract something more sincere out of him, but that would hardly be productive. I clear my throat.

“I accept your apology,” I say coldly. “I hope you come to see that a woman can wield power beyond what’s between her legs—for your daughter’s sake if nothing else.”