When she was like that, and she had been so very often, she drained emotion and life from all around her. Geraint hadn’t wanted to end up floating down the river, as others had before him. Lovers died because of this woman. She’d told him once, when he’d found the bruises on her and was ready to rip Bernardo apart with his bare hands, that sometimes she deserved them. Geraint had been young then, and uncomprehending but over the coming months had grown older and wiser very swiftly.