Lessa licked her lips nervously, and shifted a few inches away. But Angoulême seemed unperturbed. “Do not test me, boy,” he snapped, jerking the tray from one of the women’s hands and slamming it on the ground.
Noticeably trembling, Sabine approached Roland, and I took hold of Marc’s hand, squeezing it hard to keep my fear in check.
“Your Majesty,” she whispered, dropping into another curtsey, then carefully setting the tray in front of him, her body obscuring Angoulême and Lessa’s view. Then she slowly lifted her face to meet his eyes and I held my breath. Please don’t hurt her.
Roland’s head tilted ever so slightly, expression considering. Then his eyes flicked to the scrap of paper Sabine carefully dropped onto his tray.
Please. Please.
“Thank you,” he said, his smile revealing too many teeth to be comforting. Then magic plucked up the scrap, he glanced at the words, and it disappeared in a smokeless puff of flame. “It smells delightful.”
Sabine curtseyed a third time, then retreated with the other women back to the distant cook fire. Roland watched her go, then began eating, showing no interest in divulging the existence or the contents of my note to his master. He finished his meal and rose to his feet. “Excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Angoulême demanded.
Roland stopped in his tracks, and even from the distance where we watched, I felt the ground tremble. “You’ve made it quite clear, Your Grace, that I’m responsible for dirtying my hands for you, but I did not realize that you intended to reciprocate.”
Marc snorted out a laugh. “Madness aside, he’s got a Montigny tongue on him.”
Angoulême scowled. “Don’t be long.”
“That’s hard to predict,” Roland replied, strolling off into the woods.
“You pushed him too hard,” Lessa hissed once he was out of earshot. “He hates you. And you heard him – he knows who I am.”
“What of it?” The Duke broke the roll on his plate into tiny pieces, eating none of them. “He is under my control and no threat to you or me.”
“Is he?” Lessa shoved aside her untouched tray. “If he looks hard enough, he’ll find a way around your commands. Around his promises. There is always a way around.”
“Speaking from experience?”
Lessa recoiled, then leaned forward, catching at the Duke’s sleeve. “My family cast me aside,” she whispered. “Yours took me in. Gave me everything and taught me everything. Do not let Tristan and Cécile’s lies turn you against me – you know I’m loyal. And they’re dead.” She reached up to touch his cheek and he slapped her hand away violently.
“Not while you’re wearing her face.”
Lowering her arm, Lessa glanced around, then let Ana?s’s face melt away to reveal her own. “Ana?s was loyal to Tristan, not to you,” she said. “I killed her because she was a traitor.”
“You killed her to further your own ends,” Angoulême snarled. “Ana?s was my child, and you slaughtered her. Then you lied to me about it.” He leaned closer. “Lied like a cursed human.”
Lessa crouched in on herself, realizing, I thought, that she’d made a mistake in killing Ana?s. That Angoulême had cared more for his daughter than he’d let on, and that it was only his unwillingness to disrupt his plans that kept him from having his revenge. But that might not always be the case.
“I’ll give you another,” she said. “And once our child is strong enough to hold the throne, we can be rid of Roland.”
Angoulême’s anger fell away, and he stroked a finger down her cheek. “I can’t help but admire your ambition, darling. Your willingness to see your entire family dead in your pursuit of the crown.” He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear, her face growing still. Then he sat back. “You promised to love me. Remember that.”
“I love you,” Lessa whispered. “I always have.”
“His cruelty really does know no bounds,” Marc murmured, and I moved away from the portal, unwilling to watch any more of this abuse. Never would I have thought to have cause to feel sympathy for Lessa, but to be forced to love that monster? I sighed.
Then Martin spoke. “Roland’s gone some distance from the camp. He’s waiting.”
“You ready for this, Cécile?” Marc asked.
My pulse was loud in my ears, my ice-cold hands drenched with sweat, but I nodded at Martin and the world tore open to reveal the monster with whom I needed to form an alliance.
Hissing in surprise, Roland leapt back and swiped at the tear, but his magic passed through it as though the opening wasn’t there.
“This is fey magic,” I said to him. “You cannot attack it.”
The violence fell away from him, and he tried again to pluck at the edges of the tear before giving up and acknowledging me. “Why aren’t you dead?”
“It’s not for lack of your master trying,” I said, crossing my arms.