Furthermore, the English king is refusing to send aid. The only bright spot is that Duval has been approached by a lord who keeps his identity hidden but claims to have a solution to offer our duchess. I will report more on this once the meeting has taken place.
One other incident of note. Duval and I were attacked upon our entry into the city. The men’s blades were coated in poison, so it was no mere robbery. (And I am saddened to report that Nocturne fell victim to their treachery.)
I pause for a moment and run the feathers of the quill along my chin as I consider whether to tell the abbess of Duval’s nightly visits so she will see that I am not shirking my duties. I fear if I do she will write back wanting more detail, so I say nothing.
I have met our duchess and can clearly see the hands of the saints upon her. Truly, they have chosen well, for she is wise and strong beyond her years. Honesty compels me to tell you that she appears to trust Duval completely and values his counsel above all others’.
I eagerly await your next orders and pray that Sister Vereda will See some way I may be of service to my god and my duchess.
Sincerely,
Ismae
The next letter is much easier to write. I know Annith will find a way to read the letter to the abbess, so I do not waste time repeating what I have already written there.
Dear Annith,
I wish someone had thought to tell me Duval was one of the duke’s bastards! You might mention to Sister Eonette to include the bastards’ names when she speaks of them. It would prevent future misunderstandings.
I saw Sybella! There was a mob of people trying to enter the city when we arrived, and she was among them. She did not speak to me, but I was much relieved to see her alive and well. Alas, I have seen no marques. Soon, hopefully!
Your sister in Mortain,
Ismae
The duchess is in attendance at court tonight, so Duval takes me to be formally introduced. She is surrounded by her ladies in waiting, the local prelates, and her advisors. I am surprised to see that d’Albret is with the duchess. No — not with her, but staying close, much like a wolf stalking a rabbit. She sits, rigid and tense, looking pointedly away from him, her face pale. She looks like a young child trying to pretend a monster from a hearth tale has not just sprung to life beside her. It is Madame Dinan who chats gaily with d’Albret, ignoring her young charge’s acute discomfort.
Duval’s hand tightens on my arm and he quickens our pace, propelling me to the duchess and her entourage. I am heartened to see Chancellor Crunard has arrived, as we need every ally we can find. even better, he stands behind the duchess, one hand on her shoulder, as if steadying her. My heart warms toward him.
To the duchess’s credit, when Duval introduces us, she greets me as if we have never met, shows not so much as a flicker of recognition. She is well made for these games of deception. “My lord Duval tells me you are fond of hunting,” the duchess says politely. "Will you indulge in the sport while you are here?” As she speaks, she glances over at d’Albret, then lets her hand drift to her neck and gracefully runs one finger along the base of her throat, as if adjusting the heavy jeweled cross that hangs there.
I nearly laugh out loud and am very careful not to look at d’Albret. “If the opportunity arises, Your Grace, I would happily partake in the hunt.”
“Let us hope, then, that the opportunity presents itself,” she says graciously.
As we murmur pleasantries, a man-at-arms approaches and bows before Captain Dunois, then speaks quietly in his ear. The captain nods, then moves to Duval and takes him aside. “Your prisoner is awake, my lord.”
Duval turns to me with an eager gleam in his eye. “I must go and question him.”
“Surely I should come with you.”
“Surely you should not. How would I explain allowing either my young cousin or my mistress to be in the presence of such a criminal?” As he speaks, he searches among the gathered nobles. “No, you will stay here and play your part and keep your ears open.” He releases my arm and to my utter horror calls out, “De Lornay!”
“No!” I whisper to Duval, but too late. The young lord disentangles himself from a group of admiring women and heads our way.
Duval glances down at me in surprise. “You cannot just stroll about unattended. People may turn a blind eye to a discreet liaison, but a lone woman wandering on her own is no lady and will quickly find herself with a reputation that keeps her from the duchess’s presence.”
His words feel like the bars of a cage clanging down around me, and I suddenly feel trapped in a prison of silk and velvet. He looks faintly amused. “Do not act as if you’ve been consigned to the executioner’s block. Most women are quite fond of de Lornay’s company.”
“I am not most women, my lord,” I say, and I assume his snort is one of agreement.
De Lornay bows in front of us, and I am gratified when his eyes move past me, then sharpen.
Duval gives his friend a wry grin. “She cleans up nicely, does she not? I have something I must see to and I would leave her in your tender care.”