Because he wanted to demonstrate his handiwork—of his own volition or of an order, she didn’t know.
But it didn’t matter.
Renard was to blame. He’d sent Luca with Taillefer. He’d caused Luca’s death.
Orders rose from the nothingness within her. To have the guards take him somewhere she could say good-bye. To make sure he was escorted to Ardenia for burial by his mother’s grave on the grounds of the Itspi. His found family would need to say good-bye, too.
“Guards,” she called, and when they looked up she would’ve been shocked if she’d had the capacity left for it—Luca’s body was being transported by the three kidnapper pirates, all dressed in the colors of Pyrenee. They had always been the enemy, and now they wore the aubergine and gold to prove it. “Take care of him, please.”
The other orders died unsaid. Mostly because they gave away what she knew now in her heart she must do.
The facets didn’t matter. No matter what scenario she landed on, none was better than the next. None had a different path. All had the same conclusion.
She must kill Renard.
Taillefer too.
And maybe the Dowager Queen.
Eradicate them all and leave the throne of Pyrenee bare.
Amarande tore herself away from the window, tears welling in her eyes now, splashing down her face.
It was over. Her love. Her dream. Her motivation.
She bent and pulled the ransom note from the pool of her stained clothes and tucked it again into her bodice, right above her heart. Then she fished her boots out from under the bed. Pulled the knife out of the right one and held it in her hand.
She’d grown into the hilt under her father’s direction. Under Koldo’s guidance. With Luca in their meadow.
And now it would be her revenge. Most likely her death, too.
She slipped the boot knife blade point down in the front of her bodice, working it between the boning of her stays, tight against her sternum, and next to the ransom note that had started it all. A tuck of the sash across her minimal cleavage and it was completely hidden.
“Pyrenee will suffer,” she whispered to herself, wiping at her eyes. She must not let on. She must be calm. She must wait until the right moment. She only had one chance to get this right.
She would make it so—and it would be the last thing she ever did.
CHAPTER
50
FIRST,Luca felt the pain. It came back to him as easily as breathing, though, in truth, it did constrict that. Next, he heard voices.
A boy’s. Maybe two. And a girl. If he were dead, that voice would’ve been Amarande’s, he was sure. Instead, it sounded very much like Ula.
Maybe he was alive.
“No,” the girl said, voice twisted with anger.
“Why are you being so stubborn about this? The garden, your sword, the gold. End of story.”
“No.”
“No, what, woman? If you weren’t so damn good with that sword, I swear I never would’ve been stupid enough to put you on this crew. You do not know your place.”
“His eyelashes just fluttered.” Urtzi’s voice.
Immediately Luca felt a thump on his boot. That kicked his eyes from fluttering to open.
