“I can’t believe your mother, still pulling that nonsense with the food—”
Gisele scrubs at her face with the heel of her palm. “Saints and martyrs, neither can I. And it’s not just that they were cruel to us. You were right, earlier. Umayya and I ran the Gänslinghaus not just to give the children a home, but to make sure it was one where they could stillbechildren. You never got that, did you? You always had to look after me.”
I duck my head, tears winning for the moment. “Well,” I say thickly. “It’s over now.”
“Here.” Ragne holds out two kerchiefs. Once we take them, she winds her arms around Gisele’s shoulders. “You both sound happier.”
Gisele leans her head against Ragne’s and tangles their fingers together. “I know I am. I didn’t plan on blowing up at them, but knowing my mother, she’ll stay out of our hair from now on, rather than risk me causing a scene.”
“Well, damn. I thought we could switch and I’d take a turn yelling at them.”
Gisele laughs again. “I just wish I’d done it earlier. I . . . learned a lot in the last year. By the time I made it to Minkja, my money was gone, and Umayya was the only one who would take me in and let me work for my keep. I was so angry at you, because what you did left me powerless. And I kept telling myself I stayed angry because you had all—all ofthis, and you weren’t doing anything with it, you weren’t helping people. I mean, all it took was one afternoon of forgiving debts and you made me the most popular girl in Minkja.”
“Maybe Eiswald should have cursed me sooner,” I deadpan.
Gisele sits on the bed, looking around the room. Her eyes linger on Ragne, then me. “But I’m a hypocrite, aren’t I? I’ve been angry because I was left as powerless as you were in my home. And for all my preaching about helping people, you offered this life back and I turned it down.” She blows her nose. “The night of the ball, you started to say I should have protected you from Adalbrecht, didn’t you?”
I sit on the other end of the bed. Then I nod. “I’m sorry I took this from you, but . . .”
“You were trying to protect yourself,” Gisele finishes. “I understand.” We stay quiet for a long moment. There’s still a distance between us, one that will take time to close. But the thorns are behind us now. Finally I say, “Well, that’s you and Emeric down, so if my mother shows up for a heartfelt apology by sundown, I’ll have a trifecta.” Gisele lets out a very unladylike snort. Then she clenches her fists
and takes a deep breath. “If—if your offer’s still open . . . I’ll do it.” A weight lifts. “You’ll come back?” “Ifwe stop Adalbrecht,” she says swiftly. “We can help Emeric
bring him down before it’s too late for either of us. Then I’ll take back my life, and your curse should be broken.”
I stare at her. The princess and the loyal maid died in the woods together a year ago; we are just two girls trying to survive now. And this is it. This is how we take down the wolf: together.
I sit back and stare at the canopy, shaking my head as I laugh. “Depose the second-most powerful politician in the Blessed Empire of Almandy, who seems to have never-ending nightmare monsters at his disposal. Sure. Why not? How hard can it be?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Adrogation
The fight with the von Falbirgs buys us the rest of the evening. I’m not sure who decides Gisele is not well enough to join the evening festivities, Adalbrecht or her parents, but either way dinner is sent up for us instead. It’s plainer fare, and uninvited, and the message is clear. Adalbrecht will not tolerate any chance of her making a scene.
It seems he wants to make sure to drive that message home, though, because he sends a brief missive with the meal: a reminder that Gisele is expected to join the rest of the guests tomorrow for a hunt.
“That’s a death threat, right?” Gisele says, scanning the paper as we split liver dumpling soup and a plate of Minkja-style kraut. “He’s going to try to kill me.”
“Probably,” I say around a mouthful of dumpling. “But he also has to be the best hunter there. He’ll be humiliated if anyone else gets the biggest kill on his wedding hunt. If you hang back with most of the guests, you’ll be surrounded by witnesses. Really, Irmgard could be a bigger threat if she gets proactive.”
“Will you go with me?”
“I could barely keep up with you when we were younger.”
“I could be the Vanja’s horse,” Ragne offers, picking at a slice of rye. “Then you will keep up for certain.”
I think it over. “That could work.” I can’t help fidgeting with a spoon. “We, uh, told Emeric we’d meet up at the cathedral, right?”
Gisele smirks at me. “Wedid, in fact. And I’m sure Umayya needs a break, she’s been managing the children herself for most of the day, so we can give you and Emeric some time alone—”
I throw a scarf at her.
When we arrive at Fortune’s cathedral, though, we find that Umayya isn’t exactly on her own. The residents of the Gänslinghaus have been given a small wing in the clergy dormitory, though truth be told, it might be larger than their old house. The common room certainly is, with sturdy couches and armchairs whose cushions have been forcibly donated to an impressive fortress, mostly empty baskets of toys, a few heavy tables with the edges sanded down, and a slate wall at the far end. I suspect the room’s typically used for children of the clergy, but the orphans have settled right in, most of them gathered around Umayya as she reads aloud by a roaring fireplace.
Emeric’s at the slate wall, though, with a handful of stragglers. His hands are on his hips, sleeves rolled up, back to us, one foot tapping irately as he studies a complicated chalk diagram. A few of the children are scribbling on the lower half of the wall to either side of him, adding a rather jarring border of flowers, horses, and soldiers to his work. A little hand tugs at his, and he passes off his own chalk but otherwise stays still, likely for the benefit of a small Gharese girl standing on a chair beside him so she can attempt to put a braid in his hair. She doesn’t seem to be having much success.
“Khidren, let the boy think,” Joniza calls distractedly from a nearby table, frowning at a sheaf of parchment.
