Zechariah managed to keep from groaning aloud. If even mostly nose-clean Uriel knew the breadth of Sonia’s scandals, well. His reputation was on its way to death throes.

“Mother will be furious,” Zechariah agreed, massaging his temples.

He did not have the heart to tell Uriel (romantic, deeply in love with his strumpet wife-Uriel) that this was the farthest he could be from happy. Nor was he keen on volunteering that he had squandered happiness on his own redheaded strumpet, whom he would not have even been able to marry.

The world was not fair, and he found himself hesitating to puncture his happiest brother’s fairy tale bubble.

“The Diamond Pony is … a complication, certainly. The world’s oldest trade will do what it does, but I do not want my name tangled up in that.”

His fingers drummed on the table. He could hear the vibrations through the wine bottle from it.

“She is lost without a man to hide behind,” Zechariah sighed, closing his eyes. “Talk me out of this, Uriel.”