Vane refilled his cup without asking. A good interrogator trick—small kindnesses to build rapport before the knife came out.
"I've read the journal," she said, settling back in her chair. "The one Captain Hale was carrying. Very detailed. Very thorough. You kept excellent records, Doctor."
Cadarn said nothing.
"A stillborn child. A dying duchess. A peasant infant substituted in the dark of night. It reads like a tragedy." She paused. "Is it true?"
"You've had days to interrogate Garrett. What did he tell you?"
"Captain Hale has been remarkably resistant to conversation. Professional soldier. Well-trained in counter-interrogation. He's told us very little beyond confirming that he was sent to find you." Vane's expression didn't change. "But the journal is quite compelling on its own. The question is: can you verify it? Were you truly the attending physician at Duke Theodric's birth?"
Cadarn weighed his options. Lie? She'd know. Truth? She already suspected.
"Yes," he said finally. "I was there."
"And the substitution? That happened as described?"
"Yes."
Vane leaned forward. "Why? Why switch the children? What did you gain?"
"Nothing. I gained nothing. The duchess was dying. She begged me to save her family. To give them an heir. I thought..." He trailed off. "I thought I was helping."
"By perpetrating a fraud that would one day throw kingdoms into war?"
"I didn't know that then. I was young. Idealistic. Stupid." Cadarn met her eyes. "I spent twenty years regretting it. Does that count for anything?"
"Regret is cheap, Doctor. Actions have consequences regardless of how you feel about them." She stood, walking to the window. "Here's my problem. Duke Theodric is mobilizing the largest army this region has seen in fifty years. Thousands of men are pledging their lives to his cause. All based on his legitimate claim to the throne."
"Except his claim isn't legitimate."
"No. It's not." She turned back to him. "But those men don't know that. Their lords don't know that. The entire western coalition doesn't know that. They believe they're fighting for the rightful heir."
"And if they knew the truth?"
"Chaos. The coalition would fracture. Duke Theodric would lose his army overnight. The war would end before it truly began." Vane returned to her desk. "Or it would get worse. Much worse. Because half the nobles would refuse to believe it. They'd call it Northern Coalition propaganda. The war would become about faith versus evidence. And those are the bloodiest wars of all."
Cadarn hadn't considered that angle. "So what do you want from me?"
"I want to know what you want, Doctor. You ran toward Northern Coalition territory. Presumably to testify. To expose the truth." She poured more wine. "Why? What do you gain from destroying Duke Theodric?"
"Nothing. I gain nothing. But maybe I prevent hundreds of thousands of deaths."
"Maybe. Or maybe you just shift who dies. Different armies. Different battlefields. Same body count." Vane's voice was matter-of-fact. "You're a doctor. You understand triage. Sometimes you can't save everyone. Sometimes you have to choose who dies."
"I'm not choosing who dies. I'm choosing to tell the truth."
"The truth is a weapon, Doctor. And weapons kill people. The question is: who do you want to kill with yours?"
The words hung in the air between them.
Cadarn's head was spinning—fever and wine and exhaustion mixing into a toxic cocktail that made thinking difficult.
"Let me be clear about your situation," Vane continued. "You're in my custody. I have your journal. I have your testimony—or I will, given time and appropriate encouragement. I control whether this information reaches Duke Theodric, Prince Edric, Prince Malric, or no one at all."
"You're going to torture me."
"Only if necessary. I prefer intelligence to brutality." She sat down again. "Here's what I'm offering: cooperate. Answer my questions honestly. Help me verify the details of the substitution. In exchange, I'll ensure you're treated humanely. No torture. Medical care for your wounds. Decent food. A clean cell."
"And after you've extracted everything useful?"
"That depends entirely on how useful you are." Vane's expression was impossible to read. "But I'll tell you what I won't do: I won't hand you over to Duke Theodric. Because if he learns that his entire identity is a lie, that he has no claim to the throne, that his mother orchestrated a fraud to save her family's honor..." She shook her head. "He'd kill you. Slowly. And probably kill everyone who ever knew about it. Including me."
"So you're protecting yourself."
"I'm protecting valuable information. There's a difference." She leaned back. "You see, Doctor, I don't care about crowns or thrones or divine right. I care about stability. About minimizing bloodshed. About finding the path that leads to the fewest corpses."
"By blackmailing your own duke?"
"By giving him the option to step aside gracefully before he leads thousands to their deaths." Her voice hardened. "Duke Theodric is arrogant, ambitious, and convinced of his own righteousness. But he's not stupid. If presented with undeniable proof that his claim is fraudulent, if given the choice between honorable abdication and catastrophic exposure..." She shrugged. "He might choose survival over pride."
Cadarn stared at her. "You're not loyal to him at all."
"I'm loyal to the kingdom. Sometimes that means protecting dukes from themselves." Vane met his stare. "So here's my offer, Doctor. Work with me. Help me end this war before it starts. In exchange, you get to live. Maybe even walk free someday, if you're very lucky and very patient."
"And if I refuse? If I demand to testify publicly, make this information available to everyone?"
"Then I extract what I need through less pleasant means and you die in a cell, having changed nothing." She said it without emotion. Just fact. "Your choice, Doctor. Cooperation or suffering. Both paths lead to the same destination. One is just significantly less painful."
Cadarn's hands tightened around the wine cup. "I need time to think."
"You have until morning. After that, I'll assume your answer is refusal and proceed accordingly." Vane made a gesture. The soldier moved to Cadarn's side. "Escort him back to his cell. Make sure the medic sees to his wounds—I want him healthy enough to make an informed decision."
They hauled him to his feet.
"Doctor?" Vane called as they reached the door.
He looked back.
"Captain Hale made a different choice. He refused to cooperate. He's been very brave and very stubborn." Her expression was almost sympathetic. Almost. "It hasn't served him well. Think about that before you decide to be a hero."
They took him back to the dungeon.