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After all, it’s not every day that you confess to your mother that she was right about your murdering wife.
“Ah, darlings,” she greets us both with a light peck on each cheek, only a raised eyebrow showing her surprise that we entered through the passageways.
Her lips part to speak again, but Remy cuts in.
“There’s something we need to discuss, Maman.”
“What is it?” Katriane’s voice is serious, but still calm as she walks us over to the sitting area.
Remy doesn’t respond immediately. He’s unsure of how to break the truth to her, and I can see her concern growing as she scrutinizes his features. While the two of them examine each other, I make my way around the perimeter of the room, checking for any potential eavesdroppers.
Katriane’s eyes follow me.
“There are no panels here,” she informs me, her features carved into wariness.
With nothing else to do, I’m left with little choice but to take my seat near them.
I take a deep breath, ignoring the anxiety pounding in my chest like a loud, beating drum. It’s my fault we’re here in the first place. I should be the one to tell her.
“We lied to you, before.” My voice is far calmer than I feel, and I force myself to meet her eyes. “Ilied.”
Her eyes soften in understanding, and I wonder if she thinks we’re coming to confess about me being the vigilante, something I know she has already put together.
With a sigh, I tack on, “Not just about the fires.”
Remy looks sharply at me, a reminder that I never told him my suspicions. But Katriane looks concerned again.
“There’s more?” she asks.
I nod, swallowing. Even if I didn’t have immunity, I wouldn’t be concerned about her power as queen as much as I am losing her good opinion, something I didn’t realize mattered to me until it was so threatened.
She will despise me for this.
Remy’s warm, solid hand covers mine, giving me the strength I need to force myself to go on. We agreed to give her the truth about everything, no matter the cost.
When I tell her about Madame and Lady Delmara, her delicate hand comes up to stifle the tremble in her lips at the mention of her son’s murderer.
I give her a moment before launching into an explanation of Einar’s real purpose in being here, his connection to Madame, and finally, Zaina.
Remy takes over then, telling her about our plan, and her potential role in it.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears as I brace myself for her ire.
I nearly jump out of my skin when she reaches across the small table and places a hand on my free one, a subtle gleam of emotion behind the determination in her brown eyes.
She squeezes my hand, but not in a threatening way. Instead, her touch is warm and steadying. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”
The room tilts, and I blink away the momentary dizziness that overtakes me. I can’t have heard her correctly.
The queen takes in my surprise
“You thought I would be angry,” she guesses correctly.
I suppress a snort. “At the very least.”
She shakes her head, a muscle working in her jaw. She is angry, but not with me.
Forme.
