“This way, Mademoiselle,” a soldier murmured to Ariane, leading the way back to the Chateau.
Araine followed him, though she shifted Lucien’s impressive weight from one arm to the other.
“That’s twice, now, you’ve saved me,” Lucien said, surprising Ariane.
“I didn’t do much this time, Your Highness,” Ariane said.
“You hit that snake with a shovel.”
“Perhaps, but it was the soldiers who killed it.”
“But you still tried to stop it,” Lucien said.
Why is he being so insistent? “…Yes.”
Lucien rolled back slightly so he could peer up at her with his froggy eyes. “Why? Why risk yourself, again?”
Ariane took a moment to think before she responded. “Because I would never let someone die before me without reaching out to help.”
Lucien was quiet for the rest of the walk to Chanceux.
Lucien was deeply grateful when Ariane carried him off to a private salon instead of traipsing him before Severin and Elle.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his brother and sister-in-law; he just didn’t want to see them at this moment, as it would mean he’d have to acknowledge that their paranoia was perhaps not so far-fetched.
Unfortunately for Lucien, when Ariane stepped out of the salon to speak to the guards, she returned to find him attempting to pry a cork from a bottle of wine and promptly scooped him up on a cushion and took him from the room.
“Release me, maid!” Lucien ordered as Ariane marched down the hallway.
“No,” Ariane said stormily.
Lucien tried to peer up at her without tipping over. “I don’t understand why you’re upset. I was nearly eaten alive—wine is the least of what I deserve.”
“Indeed,” Ariane said. “As the day has been so trying, you should retire and recuperate.”
“I haven’t even had dinner yet!” Lucien cringed at the shrill tone of his own voice. I’ve been a frog for three days, and I’ve gone from a charming prince to a spoilt child whining at the maid. I’m not sure my image will ever recover.
“I am sure Henry can be convinced to take you to dinner, or to have a tray brought up for you,” Ariane said.
Lucien grumbled and settled into his cushion, trying to meld with it as much as possible. (Though he would rather die than admit it, riding around on the cushion was rather terrifying—much like perching on the top of a carriage with horses pulling it at a gallop.)
Ariane reached Lucien’s quarters shortly, opened the door, and again tossed Lucien and his cushion inside so he flipped head over webbed feet.
This time, he landed on a bearskin rug set out before the fire and skid a little before finally stopping.
“The guards will inform Prince Severin and Princess Elle of tonight’s incident,” she said as Lucien righted himself. “Good evening, Your Highness.” Ariane ducked out of the doorway.
“Rude servant!” he shouted after her, but she was, of course, already gone.
“I see you have returned before dinner, Your Highness.” Henry stepped out of the shadows, already armed with a bowl and a towel. “I hope you did nothing untoward?” He glanced at the closed door and raised his eyebrows.
“I was nearly eaten by a snake in the gardens,” Lucien snapped.
Henry’s expression—which was nearly invisible to begin with—changed from chiding to mild worry as the position of his forehead wrinkles altered slightly. “Do you require any medical attention? The barber-surgeon, perhaps?”
“No, I’m fine.” Lucien sighed as Henry picked him up and set him on the small table for his regular bowl-bath. “I was luckily too fat for the snake to swallow easily.” He eased his way into the bowl and splashed around for a quiet moment or two.
“Are you certain you do not wish for a second opinion? We could seek out Lady Enchantress Angelique.”
“Yes, I’m certain. Why?”
“You are unusually silent.”
Lucien tried to snort, but he didn’t really have the nostrils for it, so it got caught in his throat and made his chest puff up. “Yes. Tell me, Henry, is it normal for people to be willing to risk themselves for others? And I am not referring to people they love, but rather people they…dislike.”
Henry meticulously set out a towel for Lucien to crawl on to. “You are referring to Mademoiselle Ariane?”
“She took a shovel to the snake—which was probably magic, as the soldiers didn’t recognize its coloring.”
Henry held the bowl steady so Lucien could heave himself over the side without tipping the whole thing. “Mademoiselle Ariane is quite brave. I imagine you are correct in thinking not everyone would have helped you, but I believe more people would than you believe.”
Lucien stared at his giant canopy bed unseeingly. “Not many of the nobles would,” he said grimly. He knew this from experience. The very people he had wined and dined and done every possible thing to charm had wanted to put Severin down like an animal when he was first cursed. The memory still made Lucien want to grind his teeth—even if he didn’t have many at the moment.
He fidgeted and dusted the thought from his mind. “Soldiers and guards would, but I always assumed that was due to their temperaments and Severin’s training.”
“The lower class is also capable of great goodness and nobility of temperament as well, Your Highness,” Henry said. For once his voice did not sound dry like sand or hard like rock, but softer—like water. “Just as you are.”
Lucien glanced up at the valet, who ignored the look and instead picked up the bowl of used water and strode across the room.
It’s something to mull over, I suppose. Along with the rest of the wretched news the Summit has brought.
Chapter 5
An Act?
When the summit was paused for luncheon on the fourth day, Ariane readied herself for a grueling hour. Her stomach rumbled as she carried Lucien to his usual eating position at Severin’s left, and she warred to keep her expression passive as the tantalizing scent of food brushed her nose.
Watching Lucien for breakfast and dinner isn’t so bad. I can eat directly before breakfast, and I know I get to eat as soon as I deliver Lucien to his rooms, but lunch… Thus far, she had not been able to steal off for lunch, so sitting at the table and feeding the crown prince was nothing short of misery.
Ariane carefully set Lucien on the table. There was so much food the prince had to crawl off his cushion as there wasn’t any room for it.
“Chestnut soup, lobster bisque, scallops, smoked eel, roast beef—your cook has outdone herself, Severin,” Lucien said.
Prince Severin briefly bowed his head. “She worked with Elle to be certain every dinner would have a dish our foreign guests would enjoy. Elle went through great pains to secure a sorbet recipe from Baris.”
Lucien’s throat puffed and deflated. “I hope she didn’t steal it?”
“I didn’t ask,” Prince Severin said.
“Lovely,” Lucien said.
Ariane swallowed and was grateful for the buzz of conversation that filled the room, covering the complaints of her stomach. She tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to ignore the delectable, herb-infused scent oozing off the roast beef.