“You didn’t give me the time to think over our options.”
The bug mage sniffed. “Have at it, then.” She eased herself over the window sill and clung to the side of the chateau. “I’ll hold him until you make it down.” The woman whistled, and her wasps cleared the room. “Just kill the girl first.”
A chill crawled up Ariane’s spine.
“Ariane!” Lucien shouted. For the first time since the attack, his voice was not cool or crisply arrogant. He sounded…frightened.
Ariane stepped away from the door and planted herself against the wall. Where’s a broom when you need it?
“Ariane—run!” Lucien shouted.
Ariane darted to the fireplace and grabbed the fire poker. I just need one good hit to his head, but he’s going to expect that.
The mage raised his sword to shoulder height, but before he could move, Ariane swung her fire poker, hitting him in the kneecap.
The mage fell to his knees with a shout.
Ariane adjusted her grip on the fire poker and stepped towards him. The mage raised his hand and clenched it into a fist, and the shadow fingers were back around Ariane’s neck, choking the life from her.
They were tighter this time, and she struggled to breathe as the mage stood.
“Ariane!” Lucien shouted.
Ariane fell to her knees, her lungs sputtering.
The mage pointed his sword at Ariane and stepped in her direction. He was flattened when a heavy form hit the door, making it careen open. The mage was flung across the room.
The abuse made the mage release the shadows strangling Ariane, and she greedily sucked in air as she watched a man stalk into the room and roar. It took her a moment to place the newest arrival as Prince Severin—for the prince was usually neat and tidy, and the man standing before her snarled like a ferocious beast.
The bug mage stuck her head in the window. “What is taking you so long?” She shrieked and pulled back when she almost took a crossbow bolt to the face.
“See, I told you I need to start practicing again.” Elle stepped into the room, cradling a crossbow with the assurance of someone who had spent countless hours handling one. “I’m not as fast as I once was.”
Prince Severin unsheathed a sword and stalked in the masked mage’s direction.
The shadow mage scrambled out the window and followed the bug mage on to the roof. Elle—her crossbow slung across her back—slipped after them. She hefted herself onto the roof and out of sight of the windows with a great deal more grace than the two mages managed.
Severin stuck his head outside the window. “Lucien, are you all right?”
“How’s Ariane?” Lucien shouted back.
Severin glanced over his shoulder. Ariane, still wheezing a little, nodded at him.
“She’s fine. Are you injured?”
“No. Your guards arrived about the same time you entered my room from the sound of it. Ariane, are you really all right?”
Severin turned back to her. “I don’t think he’ll be satisfied until he sees you.”
Ariane slowly stood and rubbed her bruised neck. She offered Severin a curtsy, making him chuff, then joined him at the window and shouted down at the garden courtyard. “I am well enough, Your Highness.” Ariane squinted out in the gloom. Soldiers bearing torches flooded the courtyard. A captain held what appeared to be a wet mound of leaves—but was probably Lucien. “I am glad you survived the fall.”
“Thank you,” Lucien said.
“I’m sure you were very graceful,” she added.
Lucien croaked. “You can bet I was.”
Ariane jumped when Elle abruptly rejoined them, skidding down the side of the chateau and then stopping herself by gripping a decorative flourish carved from the stone. She held on to it with a single hand and braced her feet against a different flourish—looking as calm as she would serving tea.
“They pulled their little disappearing act as soon as they reached the roof,” she said. “I searched the area, but they’re gone.”
“It bothers me that they managed to slip past security.” Severin offered an arm to his wife. “I’ll have to speak to the mages about increasing it—it’s a miracle they stayed their course and went after Lucien and not another visiting dignitary.”
Elle patted her husband’s arm. “I’ll go check on Lucien.”
“Be careful,” Severin warned her.
“I always am!” Elle said. “Especially given that there are no stained-glass skylights here.”
Ariane’s heart sputtered again when Elle released her hand-hold on the stone flourish and skid down the wall. When she neared the bottom of the chateau, she leaped and landed in the courtyard—still wearing her beautiful evening gown from dinner. “Lucien, you frog—why didn’t you call for us?”
“Ariane did!” Lucien snapped, sounding mad. “And a load of good it did us.”
“Worry not, Severin. Lucien is feeling feisty—a sure sign he’s fine,” Elle called up to her husband.
“Ariane and I were just attacked by two rogue mages—no, I am not fine!”
Ariane abruptly pulled back from the window when Lucien’s complaint sparked her memory. “Henry—His Highness’s valet! He is always here when we return from dinner, but we did not find him—”
Prince Severin held up a hand to forestall her. “A maid found him in the larder. It is believed the mages shook him down to get the keys to Lucien’s rooms. He is fine.”
Ariane held a hand to her still rapidly beating heart and nodded.
“The guards will take you to the chateau’s barber-surgeon. If you’ll excuse me, I must alert the guests and speak to the guards.” Severin offered Elle a shallow bow, making her blink in surprise.
Slightly dumbfounded, she followed Severin out of the war-torn bedroom and found herself surrounded by guards. Shaking her head over the night’s events, she followed the guards as they led the way out of the family wing.
Say what you will about the spreading evil, the Loire royal family has changed dramatically because of it.
Late that night, Lucien remained awake with his brother and the Erlauf representative—Colonel Friedrich—in Severin’s study as they reviewed and ordered more protective security measures.
Lucien sat next to the tea tray Elle had delivered over an hour ago and glanced over the map of Chanceux Chateau Severin had spread out across the desk.
“We’ve placed more soldiers at these entrances and increased the patrols through the guest wing and the family wing.” Severin planted his hands on the edge of his desk and scowled down at the map.