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“I do not hold others to unreasonable standards, especially not when they are little more than children.” Her fury is warmer than Madame’s, more like a protective blanket than a deadly shard of ice. “You have been put in an impossible position, have endured things no person should have to, and still, you have found a way to protect my family. To protect my son. So no, I am not angry with you, child. Not even close.”
She clears her throat, sitting back and returning her hand to her lap.
“I only wish you had come to me sooner.” This, she directs at her son, who shuffles uncomfortably under the weight of her scrutiny. “Francis, darling, you play the games of the court exceptionally well, but you’ve only been doing it for a handful of years. I have been doing it for decades.”
I suck in a breath, releasing it slowly as she expounds on the various pressure points and the ways we can leverage our allies while cowing our enemies into sitting out this fight.
She says it all just that way, too.We.Our. Including me as part of her team, her family, without hesitation.
Remy listens, giving ideas of his own, and I throw in the things I know about those who are not loyal to us.
By the time we leave, we have a far more solid plan than the one we came in with. She promises to start on her side of things and tell the rest of the family what they need to know. Including the girls.
Remy purses his lips, and she notices.
“This is their fight, too,” she says.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he argues.
“Like it didn’t have to be Louis’?” she challenges, wincing slightly on his name.
Remy looks away, and she reaches a hand out to his shoulder.
“They are already in her line of fire, my dear. We all are. The only difference is that this way, they’ll have the chance to fight back.”
He lets out a slow sigh, shaking his head, even as he opens his mouth to concede the point. “All right. I suppose we may as well at this point, since they’ll just find out anyway.”
Katriane smiles wryly at that before embracing us each in turn and shooing us out the door, saying she has things to attend to.
It feels odd, trusting someone else with this, but also strangely freeing. Like maybe we don’t have to shoulder every part of this burden alone.
Maybe with her help, we can actually win.
CHAPTERFIFTY-SIX
REMY
I’m alone in the room with my father, his gray eyes going distant once again as we discuss the next set of arrests and our plans to clean up the Slums.
We’ve been discussing the best way to go about this for the past few weeks, but each time he registers how bad things have gotten, he reverts in on himself again.
I’m still holding the recent report of the crime rates in the three sectors, but I stop talking once I realize he isn’t listening anymore. He’s lost again, staring at the portrait of Louis on the wall.
It stings, to see such a vivid portrayal of my brother, a mere week before he died.
My sisters and I had helped him plan his secret wedding, even though I hadn’t understood it at the time, why my traditional brother was willing to go against our kingdom’s time-honored masquerade ball and upset both of our parents for the sake of one girl.
I sure as hell understand it now.
Still, I wonder if we would have been as anxious to assist if we had known that the wedding would lead to his death. I wonder if he would have felt like it was worth it, to choose her, no matter the consequences.
Perhaps Madame was right, and love does make our family stupid.
Or at the very least, weak.
Papa looks into Louis’ eyes as if he’ll find the answers he’s been searching for, while I look at Papa.
Wishing for the same thing.
