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“We may not need to,” Beast says. “The marshal appears to have been alerted to our arrival and has sent an escort.” He motions toward an approaching group of riders.

My heart lifts at the thought that I will not have to enter the city after all.

But as we wait, I notice the party is well armed, and there are nearly a dozen of them, which seems too many for a simple escort. Furthermore, they are not wearing Rieux’s colors. “Those are the king’s colors,” I say softly.

His face impassive, Beast calls back to the others. “Stay where you are and do not come out.” Behind us, there is a rustle of movement as they slip deeper into the trees for cover.

“Do you think he has heard of our success in putting down the rebellion?” I ask.

“It is possible.” Beast does not sound convinced.

When they are close enough that we can see their faces, I recognize Captain Stuart riding at the head, and a wave of foreboding washes over me.

They do not slow their approach, but ride to encircle us, Captain Stuart’s voice ringing out. “Benebic de Waroch and Lady Sybella d’Albret, you are under arrest for raising arms against the crown. I have orders to take you directly to the king.”

Chapter 94

Inside the palace, the guards do not grab us by the arms, but maintain a tight formation around us. While my heart beats faster, Beast’s continues its slow, steady rhythm.

We are not taken to the main hall, but to the smaller, more private chambers attached to the ducal rooms that the king has taken for his own. One of the men opens the door, and Captain Stuart very nearly shoves us inside. Beast does not even notice, but I must struggle to keep my footing.

As I look up, every fear I have had since first seeing the escort crystallizes at the familiar faces around me. Not only is the king here, but also the regent, the Bishop of Albi, and General Cassel, as well as two advisors I do not know. The Bishop of Narbonne is not in attendance.

The king sits rigidly in his chair, his face hard, as he watches us approach. Captain Stuart bows. “The traitors, Your Majesty.”

The word is like a slap, and I must fight to keep my temper in check. I sink into a deep curtsy as Beast goes down on one knee.

“Read the charges against them,” the king says.

General Cassel steps forward. “The two of you are charged with acting against the crown and trying to incite a rebellion among the barons and commoners against their true liege, escaping the king’s lawful imprisonment, and murdering one of the king’s guards.”

I do not dare look at Cassel for fear he will see that I know he was behind the murdered guard. I do not want to show my hand just yet.

“What say you to these charges?”

Beast’s voice rumbles into the chamber. “I have killed no one but your enemies, Your Majesty. I do not know what tale has reached your ears or been reported to you, but we rode here to put down the rebellion that was already underway. And while I did escape from the dungeon in order to do so, my only aim was to see that Rohan did not succeed in raising nobles to his cause.”

“And what cause was that?” The regent’s voice fair curdles my stomach.

“Asserting his right to the duchy over the queen’s and claiming she did not have the authority to sign a treaty on his behalf.”

“You lie.” The regent impugns Beast’s honor as casually as swatting at a fly.

“With all due respect, Madame,” I say. “He does not lie. If you were to speak with Lord Montauban, or Lord Châlons or Marshal Rieux, they would all support our claim.”

It is the king who answers. “All those men have been loyal to the queen. I cannot trust them in this. Besides, your actions speak louder than any words.” I can hear a faint thrum of fury in his voice.

“What we need you to tell us,” the regent interjects smoothly, “is how involved the queen has been with this plan.”

I meet her gaze, allowing all my righteous outrage to spill out. “She has only acted with honor, to ensure the dowry she brought to this marriage was not stolen out from under the king.”

“So she was involved.”

There is but the briefest moment to make a choice. “Only to the degree you saw in Paris, when she presented her arguments in front of you.”

“Is that true?” she asks Beast.

He does not hesitate. “Yes.” I allow myself a small, internal sigh of relief. We will at least be able to shield her.

“Yet another lie, I’m afraid,” she says lightly, before her face grows hard and smug. “English soldiers were among the dead at Morlaix.”

“They were not fighting for Her Majesty,” Beast explains, “but against her. Not only did Rohan initiate the rebellion, he invited France’s enemies to move against the queen as well.”

“Your Majesty.” I direct my words to the king. “If you do not trust us, all you must do is locate Viscount Rohan and put the questions to him. Find out where he was, who he was corresponding with. It will prove that we tell the truth.”

There is another long pause. “We have already done so,” the regent says. “And he has testified that he was approached by the queen to participate in such a scheme, but refused.”

She has gotten to him. The regent has gotten to Rohan and convinced him to implicate the queen to save his own hide.

“Take them away,” the king says with a wave of his hand.

Soldiers step forward then, holding chains and manacles as they approach Beast. I want to scream at them, but will not give them the satisfaction. I look at Beast, wondering if we should make a break for it. We could—easily. We have fought twice this many before and won.

He gives a faint shake of his head. It is a different thing altogether to raise one’s hand against the king.

And so I must watch in silence as the man who risked his life time and time again to secure this fickle kingling’s lands is chained and led away. He does not fight, and his head does not bow. His innocence shines like a beacon—for those not too blinded by their own political scheming to see it.

I am escorted by six armed guards to a small room in the north tower. Four of them remain at my door. I immediately cross to the window and look down in time to see the entire palace courtyard below come to a standstill as Beast is led to the dungeon housed in the old tower. I feel, rather than hear, the clang of the door as it shuts behind them, imagine them leading him lower and lower to that dark pit. I clench my fists. I have gotten him out of there before, I can do so again.

But such thoughts feel like empty promises and bring me little comfort.

* * *

Sometime later, my door opens, and much to my shock, the king enters. “Your Majesty.”

He says nothing, but simply circles me, watching. At last he says, “Rise,” then turns to stare into the fire.

When minutes pass and he still has not spoken, I decide I have had enough of games. “What will you do with

Sir Waroch?”

He glances over his shoulder. “What we normally do with traitors.”

Cold, piercing fear takes over my body. “You cannot kill him! He was only trying to protect what was yours.”

“I am king. I can do whatever I like.”

I clench my fists and try to calm myself. “Will you not at least consult with the men he named to see if their stories match his?”

“We have Viscount Rohan’s sworn oath already.”

“And if Rohan were behind this, as we claim, do you not see how convenient that would be for him to sign such a thing?”

A small frown creases his brow. “He gave his word.”

“I can swear my oath as well.”

“Yes, but we already know you are a proven liar, spy, and assassin. Your word is worthless.”

“Sir Waroch’s is not.”

“You would not be the first woman to have corrupted a man.” He pauses a moment, placing a hand on the mantel to stare into the fire. My mind whirs, striving to think of something to say, something I can do that will open his eyes to the truth.

Before any such thing comes to me, he whirls from the fireplace, fury contorting his face. “You lied to me. You said you were going to a convent. You freed Beast from my dungeon and left a . . . bear in his place!”

“I did not lie. I did leave the palace, and I did spend some time at the abbey. And the bear was too old and tired to hurt anyone. Truly, for an assassin, I have worked hard to ensure that nobody died.”

He takes a step toward me. “You are a dangerous influence on the queen. Ever since you have attended upon her, she has changed. You poison her mind with your thoughts of power. You push her to disobey me. It was a mistake to ever indulge her and allow you at court.”

“You are mistaken if you think your queen is so malleable as all that. She has ever been strong and resolute.”

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