AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We’ve talked about it before, but I give him the reassurance anyway, because I know what it is to feel like Madame is going to take everything from you.
He nods, but it’s clear what he’s thinking.
Until she takes me away from him again, like she’s taken so much already.
From all of us.
It’s strange to be on this end of things, in the realm of people he wants to keep away from her rather than the person responsible for her fearmongering.
He swears he doesn’t blame me for his parents’ deaths, and short of dosing him with more of Madame’s serum, I have no choice but to believe him.
So it’s only me who blames myself, then. For leaving that day. For telling his mother about Madame. For not making it back to the palace quickly enough to save her.
Though, there is plenty of guilt to go around.
If mercy is not a finite resource, then blame is even less so.
Remy lowers his lips to my forehead, pulling me against him. His breath is warm against my skin, and I lean into the touch.
Pumpkin squeaks in protest at being squashed between us, having opted to nestle in one of my purses today. Remy only sighs at the sound before he straightens up and squares his shoulders, looking every bit the King of Corentin.
Then he offers me his arm and together, we stride out the doors to the dismal courtyard. The day of Jean and Katriane’s funeral is appropriately overcast and dreary.
“Your Majesties?” a voice calls.
I don’t immediately turn when the servant addresses us because it’s ridiculous, really. I wasn’t even a real princess, and now I’m a queen.
The title that belongs to Remy’s mother has become mine, through mistakes and bloodshed and sheer arrogance on our part.
Still, itismine now, and I will damned well find a way to live up to it. Remy needs a partner, and I won’t betray Katriane’s memory by half-arsing the job she devoted her entire life to.
So I turn, along with Remy. The man is waiting to usher us forward to where Remy’s sisters already sit in the front row. Their eyes are red-rimmed, but their spines are straight, their features serious. I know they want vengeance just as much as I do.
And I will get it for them.
On the way, we pass Einar, Zaina at his side and Khijhana lounging at their feet. Helga and Gunnar sit like bookends on either side of them, both casting guilty glances at Jean’s gilded casket. They weren’t assigned to protect him, weren’t anywhere near his room when he was killed, but they harbor the responsibility nonetheless.
It’s a feeling I relate to, all things considered.
Einar has one hand on my sister’s arm, like he always does these past two weeks. Like she might disappear yet again if he lets go.
They call ZainaYour Majesty,also, but it’s accompanied by an air of reverence, after her miraculous return from the dead.
I nod at Zaina and Einar—and Khijha—before taking my seat next to Remy. He is stoic, his face unreadable, but he places a hand in mine. Neither of us bothers to address the question of the future anymore.
We both know we’re in this now. For however long either of us has, considering that we’ve made an enemy of Madame.
Pumpkin chitters in the silk purse, tiny fingers stretching out of the top to hold onto my hand, like he senses my sadness. I am hit with a visceral memory of Katriane telling me she thinks she would grow quite fond of having him around.
Me, she meant.
Her first acceptance of my unorthodox place in their lives. The first step to garnering the trust that would get her killed.
My eyes burn, and I blink away the emotion.
I didn’t know Jean, really, but Einar grieves him along with Remy. I imagine I would have liked him, if the woman who raised him is any indication. I glance down the row at Grandmère, her fist clenched around the martini she hasn’t taken a sip from.
She is doing her best to put on a show as well as the rest of us.
