"Yes," she said, and stood up on the tips of her toes, kissing the ancient, evil spectre on the lips, her scent sweet like orange-blossomed honey, her lithe muscles trembling.  She kissed his mouth, his chin, his cheeks, both eyes, and smiles at him, deeper this time, her fair cheeks flushed.  "Herrick is ruined.  He will be expelled from the King's Guard, at the least, and most likely executed.  I will be spared marriage to a barbarian prince, but father will still try to name Amon his heir.  I am fonder of my brother than I am over the Old Wolf.  How will we manage him?"