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I have had three years to prepare for my role as king, but Louis was born for this. Raised for it.
If he hadn’t died, maybe Madame wouldn’t have gotten this far. Maybe my father would have seen the rot breeding in his kingdom and cut it out before the infection spread.
And if he hadn’t, then Louis would have.
“He would have made a strong king,” my father says, as though he heard my thoughts.
“Yes,” I agree, standing to pour us both a finger of whiskey.
As I hand my father his, he finally turns his attention back to me, examining my features like he’s seeing me for the first time since Louis’ death.
I blamed him, at first, but all I feel is sympathy now.
I know as well as anyone what grief can do to a person, the way it can hollow you out from the inside until you’re nothing more than a husk of your former self. Papa certainly wasn’t the only one who stopped existing after Louis’ death. He’s just the only one who never came back.
The way he’s looking at me now, I get a rare glimpse of the father I grew up with.
“He would have made a strong king,” he repeats. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t. I know something is holding you back from ascending the throne, and I know it isn’t just that rather vicious wife you’ve acquired.”
His lips turn up in an approving way, in spite of his description.
He’s right, though. It isn’t just about Aika, or even Madame. I haven’t taken the throne, because I don’t want it, don’t feel entirely worthy of the role my brother was always meant to fill.
I let his words wash over me, soothing a bit of that burden, but the feeling doesn’t completely disappear.
“Maybe when this is over,” I say noncommittally.
He only hums in response, his eyes going distant again. It’s probably a good thing that his role in this is limited to pretending to take Einar hunting.
I’m not sure he’s up for anything more, even for the sake of his firstborn son.
* * *
We use the rest of the week wisely.
Everyone is careful not to act out of character or to draw attention to themselves or the plan, but we all have our orders. Pride swells within me as I watch my sisters do their part, however little I wanted to involve them initially.
Gisele is content to keep track of Pumpkin and monitor the gossip at the palace, while Chloé and Margot spend their days calling upon the noble families from the list we shared with my mother.
They’re formidable when they want to be, just like her. At some of the houses, they offer thinly veiled threats, blackmailing the families back into submission. At others, they bribe them with gifts or political opportunities, reminding them subtly of their allegiance to our family.
Then there are a few well-placed seeds of doubt planted with gossip, enough to entice the court away from Lady Delmara and any scandalous association a friendship with her might bring.
I’m feeling cautiously pessimistic when I finally write a letter to Madame to let her know about Einar’s departure and that the conversations with my mother are going well. I tell her she should expect an invitation to tea within the next few days.
Damian doesn’t come to check in on us, and Madame doesn’t respond to my letter. But several days later when Maman writes to invite her to the palace, her response is quick.
It’s finally happening. Everything is falling into place.
Fear and anticipation mingle like an angry swarm of hornets in my gut. This time tomorrow, we might be free of her.
Or we might all be dead.
CHAPTERFIFTY-SEVEN
AIKA
Ifeel like I’m living outside of my body, somehow removed from myself as I go through the motions to prepare for Madame’s arrival. I can never fully silence the small, traitorous voice in the back of my head that tells me it’s wrong to sabotage her, to end her reign once and for all.
