By the Sire. How could I be so foolish? My body froze with fear.
Amelia crossed the floor to stand between the Vicomte and me. In one smooth movement, she took over the Vicomte’s attention while gently ushering me out of view. Clever girl.
“What plans do you have for me, Father?”
“You’re to marry Genesis Rex, the ruler of the Creation Casters. He’s a brute and a thug, so don’t plan for an easy life.”
“Am I to meet him before the wedding?” asked Amelia coolly.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. You’ll meet him tonight at the play and be grateful for it.” The Vicomte fiddled with some dials on his watch. “Barbarian fools. Tiptoeing through the shadows with their body doubles and long helms.”
Philippe wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “I’m afraid none of us knows what you mean.”
“I mean that Rex will find my wayward daughter when he’s good and ready.” The Vicomte glared at Amelia. “It’s a garden party, so I expect he’ll pull you into a promising shrubbery and have his way with you.”
“I see.” Amelia’s calm broke as a flush crawled up her neck. Suddenly, I wished I’d killed the Vicomte back at the Midnight Cloister.
“Thank you for that elegant description.” Philippe bowed again. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
“Not until you’re dismissed.” The Vicomte snapped his watch face shut and jammed the device back into his overlarge pocket. “I have something else to say to you two.”
Two? I stepped back farther into the shadows. Indeed, the Vicomte wasn’t even counting me as a person in the room. Perfect.
The Vicomte eyed at Philippe and Amelia in turn. “I said before that I suspect you’ve been up to no good, and I intend to get to the truth of the matter.”
Philippe put on his most suave smile. “Whatever do you mean?”
“The gallery at the Havilland estate just burned down. Know anything about it?” the Vicomte’s beady eyes narrowed. “No?”
None of us said a word. My legs felt boneless beneath me.
Here it is. We’re caught.
“I thought as much,” said the Vicomte. “My spies tell me that my useless daughter and her rogue brother were in visiting the Havilland mansion. After that, a fire broke out. Damned odd coincidence, I’d say.”
With her red ringlets, wide blue eyes, and bow-shaped mouth, Amelia’s face became a doll-like image of innocence. “You can’t possibly think—”
“Quiet, you.” The Vicomte’s gray complexion seemed to darken with anger. “The Montagne estate is guarded by a troop of Fantomes. They’ll attend every celebration. If any of you are guilty of sneaking around behind my back, then they’ll find it out. If I find you’ve betrayed me, then I’ve given orders for them to peel Philippe like a pear.” He pointed at Amelia. “And as for you, my dear daughter, they have instructions to turn your brain into mush. Since your womb would still function, I’m sure a brute like Rex will never notice.”
“You can’t hurt me.” Amelia’s voice was almost a whisper. “Mother Superior at the orphanage cast spells. Philippe and I are protected from you.”
“My Fantomes tell me they can break those spells. Don’t test me, daughter. I will destroy you both.”
My jaw locked. How dare he threaten Amelia? I wanted to crush this man while I had the chance. But I couldn’t risk it. Not until I found Ada and the other Necromancers. Until my Sisters were safe, murdering the Vicomte could mean their death as well. It was a risk I simply couldn’t take. With a great force of will, I stayed quiet in the shadows.
Amelia’s mouth fell open. “Father, please.”
“I’m far from finished. Listen to me closely, daughter. If you do anything to foil this marriage treaty, I will kill you so slowly and painfully, the gods themselves will weep for you.” His voice lowered to a hiss. “Do we understand each other?”
“We do, Father.”
My friend’s shoulders slumped with defeat. Clearly, the Vicomte had been haranguing her for years. I made a silent vow.
I understand you too. And you will pay for what you’ve done to her.
The Vicomte stared at Amelia for a long moment. “Excellent. Now, I have more intelligent people to visit.” He strode out the door, slammed it behind him, and was gone.
The moment we were alone again, Amelia crumpled into her brother’s embrace. She was everything sweet, gentle, and bright. How could the Vicomte be so cruel?
Philippe patted her back. “You did well, sister.”
She stepped away from his embrace and patted away the tears from her cheeks. “I always vow that I won’t let him bother me, but he always does. And Fantomes will be testing us. How can we protect ourselves from them?”
“It won’t be easy,” I said. “But it’s possible. I need you both to stay focused on why we’re really attending this silly play. We must find our friends.”
“Yes.” Amelia straightened her shoulders. “And that we will do.”
“I take it all back,” said Philippe. “This plan has merit.”