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“Possibly, yes.” Caedmon began to look impatient as Claire glared at him. “You lived at court long enough to know better than this. My sister is not only Blarestri royalty; she is the queen of another powerful court—”
“Who she betrayed!”
“But that does not mean her husband would not come to her aid if she were imperiled. Her honor reflects on him. He might arrange an accident, were he ever to gain control of her again, but to allow another to—”
“You mean you won’t pursue it?” Claire’s eyes flashed. “That she can just do whatever she wants?”
“I didn’t say that.” Caedmon’s expression remained mild, but his voice was a little sharper than before. “I understand that you want to protect Aiden. So do I. But these things have to be handled carefully or a war—”
“We’re already at war! Or haven’t you noticed?”
“I have not.” It was curt. “Neither have you. Believe me, if it comes to that, you will see the difference.”
Claire just stood there for a moment, vibrating. And there were no remnants of the Vogue cover girl now. I could see it, clearer than I ever had: the wild fey princess, all fiery hair and electric green eyes and pale, unearthly beauty, a legend straight out of an old Irish song suddenly come to life. And furious.
“Then tell her this, next time you meet,” Claire spat. “If she comes for my child, she won’t be dealing with a fey army, or a vampire court, or your political games. She’ll be dealing with me. And I will kill her.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Claire banged out of the screen door, leaving the three of us. Or the four, if you counted Stinky, and I didn’t see any reason why you shouldn’t, since he was kicking up the biggest fuss. Which was a problem, because I was going to have a tough time of it if I had to get between the two men again. But Caedmon surprised me.
“I need to talk to Claire,” he told me quickly. “In the meantime, think on this. You’ve been an outsider all your life, part of two worlds, but accepted by neither—”
“She’s accepted,” Louis-Cesare snapped. “She’s on the Senate!”
Caedmon shot him a look. “And we both know how long that will last once things calm down, don’t we?”
“Her family is here!”
“And may be there as well.” Emerald eyes found mine. “I could help you look for them.”
“Caedmon—”
“Think on it,” he told me, kissed my hand, and left. Leaving me with a hissing, furious baby and Louis-Cesare, who didn’t look any happier.
I felt the same, although for different reasons.
Just do it, I told myself. Right now, before you chicken out. You have the perfect excuse. Caedmon just handed it to you. . . .
But, instead, I stood there, feeling miserable and not saying anything.
Neither did Louis-Cesare, for a long moment.
I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was trying to come up with another solution. Something, anything, that would let me hold on to him, because he was wrong. I didn’t care about being on the Senate, a community that had shunned me for years. That was Mircea’s idea. I’d gone along with it to help him out, not because I wanted prestige I wasn’t going to get anyway.
I only wanted one thing.
But, as always, it was something I couldn’t have.
And the longer I put this off, the more I tried to find a solution that didn’t exist, the more I put him in danger. Dorina was a knife in the dark, a gun in the hand, a brilliant, multifaceted weapon of destruction. I’d lived with her for centuries; I knew what she was. I knew what she could do. Even worse, I knew him.
What happened if she decided to banish me? What happened when he realized that I wasn’t coming back? That my consciousness had been scattered, and all that was left was a shell—one still walking around, because someone else was in there?
Dorina wouldn’t have to provoke an attack. He would do that for her. And then he would die.
It wasn’t even a question. When Louis-Cesare felt something, it was all over his face. When he did something, it was wholehearted, full speed ahead, no stopping to think about his own safety, because why would he?
He thought himself invincible.
