Something shaded the king’s ruined fairy-tale face. After several moments, he looked up—straight into Luca’s eyes.
“It’s fitting, I suppose,” Renard answered. “Given what Taillefer did to you.”
There was a pause here as the king raked his eyes across Luca’s body—seemingly whole, though they all knew that a horror lay beneath his fine tunic and doublet.
Amarande turned a sneer upon Renard and reminded him of his role in Taillefer’s torture of Luca. “What he didat your command.”
Renard’s lips twitched.
“Yes. You’ll find that I’m very good at giving commands.”
He clapped his hands twice—two hard, distinctive raps—and through the doors clattered several servants, pushing carts brimming with food and sloshing with drink. Four strong men carried a wooden table meant for an intimate setting, and two chairs.
“Amarande, you will dine with me.” Renard stepped down from the dais and sliced a hand toward Luca. “You’ll have to excuse me,Your Highness, as again, I expected to talk with only the queen about my letter. I shall have a meal brought to your quarters.”
The servants scattered as quickly as they came, footfalls retreating into the bowels of the Bellringe. Amarande and Luca stayed glued to the spot as Renard scraped back a chair meant for the queen. She speared it with a look of unmitigated disdain.
“You’ll have to excuse me as I do not trust a meal prepared for me by you.”
“Do you plan to subsist on nothing but spite while you are in these walls, Amarande?”
When she didn’t respond, Renard smiled again, his damaged face struggling a little more with it this time.
“I can assure you this food has not been poisoned.” The king pointedly snagged a pastry from the platter before him. “It appearssomeonetampered with Taillefer’s tinctures. I assure you, no poison is to be found upon these grounds.”
Amarande did not budge.
“Come now, let’s eat and we can discuss terms to release your brother.” Renard looked to Luca. “And the Warlord, too, of course. I wouldn’t want to leave Torrence out of it, even if my invitation was not meant for you. I’m not a terrible host.”
“I won’t negotiate a thing until I see with my own eyes that Ferdinand is alive.”
At her side, Luca rolled his shoulders back. “And I ask the same of Geneva.”
Renard was silent a moment. Amarande’s free hand twitched—for the sword at her back, the dagger in her boot, for a chance to sweep the platters from the table and right into the clean ivory of his doublet. The king watched her, chewing slowly, his cool gaze dropping to their entwined hands yet again.
Amarande strengthened her stance and her grip on Luca.
True love is the most powerful force on earth.
Yes, it was.
Finally, Renard swallowed. “Queen Amarande, I will take you to your brother.”
“Thank you,” she bit out.
Then, he clapped his hands again—this time three quick raps. Immediately, Dunixi appeared from the double doors. The Eritrian attempted a bow upon entry, and was really, summarily terrible at it.
“Dunixi, you will escort His Highness Luca to visit Geneva.”
Amarande took a pointed step forward. “We stay together. That is nonnegotiable.”
“Itisnegotiable if you would like to see both of them.”
Renard appraised her as if he’d won. His house. His rules.
Amarande only stiffened in her spot. Unmovable. Unshakable. Undeterred.
“We visit one at a time.Together.”
