AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes sharpen with understanding, and a thirst for vengeance. “Take them to the king’s audience room. He is in attendance there.”
I give a brusque nod and drop my hands back to my side. “That is all we wished for.”
I bite back a humorless smile of triumph when his jaw clenches in irritation at the thought that he is doing precisely what we wanted.
Chapter 57
Genevieve
Alarm snakes along my shoulders. I have made a bold move, but the door I thought open is not. With no other choice, I begin heading back to the castle, my heart thudding as loudly as the blacksmith’s hammer.
Maraud did not come. Only something dire would keep him from his word. Unless—my steps slow—he had planned this from the beginning, a setup to even the score between us.
I try the idea on much as I might a hair shirt, and though it itches and scratches painfully, I find myself hoping that it is the case. Better that this be some well-thought-out retaliation rather than some new misfortune that has befallen him.
I am halfway across the courtyard when my dismay at Maraud’s failure to appear shifts to panic. The note!
I must get back to my room and get the letter to the king before others find it. I look up at the sky. I have not been gone that long. Surely their meeting has not adjourned.
I have just resumed walking when a loud commotion erupts over by the stables. I stop near one of the wells and glance up. A cluster of a half dozen king’s guard, led by General Cassel, strides toward the castle. The guard’s bodies block my view of who they have in custody. The crowd rapidly parts for them, and it is not until they veer around one of the wine stalls that I catch a glimpse of a deep red gown and a woman’s black hair. Sybella.
A fresh wave of panic slams into my chest. What is Cassel doing with her? Why is she under guard? I take two steps in their direction before I realize there is nothing I can do to help her. Not like this. I whirl back around, intending to enter the palace through the servants’ entrance near the chapel, but am stopped by something hard pressing into my back.
“What have you done with Maraud?”
I recognize Valine’s voice immediately. Is that who the man with Sybella was?
“I’ve done nothing to Maraud. I’ve been out here looking for him for over an hour.”
The knife against my back eases. “Why are you looking for him?”
“Because we had planned to meet. Over at the fletcher’s hut. But when I got there, he was nowhere to be found. I’ve waited, thinking he’d been delayed or something had come up.” I do not tell her my fear that it was his plan all along to humiliate me. The fact that she is here does much to allay that concern.
“He left to meet you over three hours ago, wanting to arrive early to ensure the fletcher’s hut was safe. I have not seen him since.”
I shift my gaze to the general, who has almost reached the palace. “Do you think General Cassel saw him? Is that who he is escorting?”
She glances over her shoulder. “That is not Maraud.”
The guards step back just then, to make room for the others to pass over the causeway. The man with Sybella is taller than Maraud, nearly half again as broad, and dressed in a peasant costume. Beast.
“I must go,” I tell Valine. “Send word if you learn anything of Maraud.”
* * *
Slipping back into the palace is nearly as easy as it was to slip out, although this time I take the back stairs to my chamber. I open my door, step into the room, and toss my small sack onto the bed, then freeze. My note to the king is gone. But there is no time to think upon that now. I cross to my cupboard, toss my traveling bag inside and strip out of my servant’s garb. Once I am dressed in my court finery, I lift the silver necklace from the bed and wind it around my neck. It is not the same as getting the note back, but it is as close to normal as I can make myself.
I take a moment to steady my breathing, then head to the king’s audience chamber to see if there is anything I can do to help Sybella.
Chapter 58
Sybella
The king’s audience chamber is only half full. With the exception of the regent, all my least favorite advisors are here. The king looks up as we enter the room. When we are close enough, Cassel gives a deep bow, as do we all.
“What is this?”
“Your Majesty, I found this man lurking in the stable. Trespasser at best, traitor at worst.”
The king’s gaze lands on Beast. “That is no traitor or trespasser, but the captain of the queen’s guard. Although I am uncertain why he is dressed as a peasant.”
I want to chortle in victory when annoyance spasms across the general’s face.
“If that is the case, why have I not seen him before now? Why has he not been guarding the queen?”
The king waves his hand. “It was what was agreed upon. The captain and his guard would attend the queen only when she and I were not traveling together.”
“Yes,” Cassel says patiently, as if to a small child. “But where has he been all this time? Why has he not been training in the yard with the other men? I have not seen him riding with the rest of the guard. Indeed, he claims to have only just returned. Did you know they were gone?”
The king frowns at this, and I want to shake him for shifting faster than a weathervane in a storm. “No. I did not.” He looks at Beast. “Where have you been?”
Beast bows deeply before speaking. “The queen sent me on her business, sire. I would not do her dishonor and speak of it without her permission.”
Cassel’s chest puffs even larger with belligerence, and the king’s nostrils flare in irritation before he speaks. “Well, then,” he drawls, his voice laced with barely concealed vexation. “We had best send for the queen.”
* * *
The queen arrives escorted by four of her ladies. She does not look in my direction or Beast’s but goes directly to the smaller throne that sits to the king’s right. She curtsies deeply—“Your Majesty”—then takes her seat.
“My lady.” He returns the greeting amicably enough, but whether it is for show or his quicksilver temperament is once again at peace with her, I cannot begin to guess. “Did you know your captain had been gone from court?”
“Why of course, my lord. I sent him.”
The king’s cordiality slips from his face like wine from a drunkard’s cup. “Without informing me?”
The queen’s forehead creases in confusion. “He is captain of my queen’s guard, sent on my own business. I did not know I needed permission.”
The king shifts in his chair, unsure of whether she should need his permission or not.
“Your Majesty.” General Cassel’s deep voice calls everyone’s attention. “What personal business would a new bride have that required such an absence?” As quickly as a serpent injects venom into its victim, so does the general undermine the queen’s authority.
“Where did you send him?” The king’s tone is carefully neutral, as if he is working to keep his irritation in check.
The queen meets his gaze squarely. “To Brittany.”
A long, charged moment of silence greets the queen’s words.
“You did what?”
General Cassel places his arms behind his back, lifting his chin in victory. The queen does not so much as flinch. “I sent him to Brittany. I had reason to believe that all might not be as it seemed there, and wished to have a firsthand account.”
“That is not personal business, Your Majesty,” General Cassel points out, “but the crown’s.”
Anger pinches the corners of the king’s eyes as he stares at the queen. “We have talked about this,” he says in a low voice.
“No, actually.” Her words ring out loud and clear. “We have not. I have tried, mind you, but you have been too busy to have the conversation. Besides, I would not risk giving you false information, so I needed to send someone to ascertain what was true before bringing it to your attention.”
“And what did you learn??
?
“The motives of Viscount Rohan.”
The king grips the arms of his throne. “You are questioning my choice for governor?”
“Sire, may I remind you that before you left Brittany, we had already decided upon a governor.”
“I changed my mind.” His words are those of a defiant child who knows he has cheated.
“And I have learned from painful experience that Viscount Rohan cannot be trusted and sent the captain to report back on his activities. It is a good thing, too. It appears I was right.”
The king’s face flushes with anger. “I did not give you leave to do so.”
To her credit, the queen merely meets his gaze steadily. “Our marriage contract did.”
