“N… N…” I tried to force the word no out, but it kept sticking on my lips, the desire to do what was needed to fulfill my promise feeling almost as necessary as breathing. “If I tell them, they’ll kill her in the hopes of ending Anushka’s immortality, and with it, the curse. If it were me, it would be different. Being bonded to Tristan keeps me safe from the King. He might well drag me back to Trollus to keep me out of the witch’s reach, but he won’t kill me.”
Chris looked unconvinced, but I knew that despite how horribly Tristan’s father treated him, he’d never risk killing him. Thibault did the things he did because he believed Tristan needed to be a certain kind of man to rule the trolls. And while I’d never condone or truly understand his abuse of his son, I was certain that the King would do everything in his power to keep Tristan alive.
The sound of Sabine’s laugh trickled through the walls, echoed by the deeper sound of the guard. We both hurried behind the curtain at the far end of the room.
Just as I dimmed the lantern, the door opened, and two sets of footsteps came inside. “I told you that you were imagining those voices,” Sabine said. “There’s no one here unless the opera house has ghosts.”
“What’s this ladder doing in here?”
“They’re probably making space for Cécile de Troyes’ portrait. You did hear that she’s to star in next season’s production?” It was only because I knew her so well that I heard the nervous edge to her voice. “Now didn’t you say you’d show me the salons out front? I’ve been dying to see them.”
“For a pretty girl like you, I can show you anything you like.”
Sabine giggled, and I rolled my eyes on her behalf, but a sigh of relief still escaped my chest when the door opened and shut again. “Let’s get out of here.”
Leaving the ladder where it was in case the guard came back, we moved silently through the dark corridors of the theatre and out the crew entrance.
“Sabine will meet us here,” I said, extracting a pair of warmer gloves from the pocket of my cloak. “We need to think of a plan – of some way to protect my mother.”
“Cécile?”
I jumped, colliding with Chris as I spun around. “Fred?”
My brother stepped out of the shadows, his black horse trailing along behind. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
What was he doing here? “I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended it to be. “You made it clear you wanted nothing more to do with my delusions.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, and… You’re my little sister, Cécile. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”
Tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying slipped out of my shoulders, relief filling me. Losing my brother’s goodwill and trust had bothered me, and having him back on my side meant a great deal. A spark of light in the darkness. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Can I walk you home?” he asked. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
I didn’t want to go home. Sneaking out had been hard enough, and I needed to talk to my friends about what we’d learned tonight. But I also didn’t want to turn down my brother’s tenuous peace offering, so I nodded.
We started to the main street, and Chris made to follow, but Fred rounded on him. “Can’t I talk to my sister alone without you listening to every word we say?”
Chris stopped and held up his hands in defense. “Sorry, I just…”
“It’s fine,” I said, catching my friend’s eye. “Wait for Sabine. Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll meet both of you at dawn for that ride we were talking about.”
Chris retreated back to the crew entrance without argument, but there was no missing the hurt in his eyes. I waited until Fred and I were out of earshot before saying, “If it wasn’t for the fact I knew you two used to be best friends, I’d never guess it for how you treat him.”
“I’ve been in Trianon for almost five years,” he replied in a low voice. “Things change. People change.”
“And that gives you the right to treat him worse than you would a stranger?”
“I don’t trust him.”
I nearly stopped in my tracks. “Whyever not?” There was no one more trustworthy than Christophe Girard. He didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body.
“Because I don’t understand his motives.” Fred pulled the hood of his cloak up. “Why’s he helping you with this mad plan of yours to free those monsters? What’s in it for him?”
“He’s helping me because he’s my friend,” I said, trying to shove down my rising temper. “And they aren’t monsters.”
“Right. It couldn’t possibly be because they’ve provided him some sort of incentive of the golden variety.”
“No.” I shook my head sharply, refusing to even consider the notion.
“Cécile…” He broke off as though his frustration with me were too great a thing to articulate. “It’s what the trolls do. It’s how they control the Isle – by buying everyone off and paying assassins to kill those who interfere with their schemes.”
“Because you know so much about them now?”
“More than you might think.” He stopped, pulling his horse around so it blocked the wind. “Cécile, I spoke to Lord Aiden…”