“How did you get past my wards?” I asked, interrupting him.
He blinked. “Pardon?”
“My wards. The dome,” I added for clarity. “How did you get past them?”
“Mostly miners with me,” he said. “We went under.”
“Ah,” I said. Then I turned my back on the lot of them and went into the castle.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cécile
“He’s not going to be happy about this.” Marc kicked the base of a tree in a rare display of frustration, muttering what I suspected was profanity as a heap of snow landed on his head. “All three of us were to remain with you, and we were to return as soon as the deed was done.”
“The deed’s not done,” I said, rubbing my hands together and casting a longing glance at the glowing fire.
“You’re splitting hairs.”
I smiled. “How very trollish of me.” My levity felt out of place, given that our plan to kill Roland was ruined, but I felt better than I had since I’d plunged that knife into Anushka’s chest. I had a plan. A place. A purpose. Even if it did mean remaining parted from Tristan.
“Of a surety, she’s seen through your disguise,” he said, trying a different tactic. “Dozens of people have called you by name, and if she can separate you from the twins, she’ll use you to get to Tristan. Those wretched seeds you two concocted won’t last forever, and a millennium of experience has no doubt developed her skills of extracting information she wants.”
“Can’t extract what’s not there,” I said. “I’ve thought this through, so you can quit trying to convince me to run back to Trianon and hide.”
“And if I say no?”
I considered the question before responding. “As you said, Marc, I’m a princess of Trollus. Your future queen. And this isn’t a request – it’s a command.”
Part of me expected him to retaliate, to push back. But I should’ve known better.
He bowed with somewhat more flair than was typical of him. “As you command, Your Highness, so shall it be.”
I shuffled about in the snow. “I’d keep you here, if I could. Better to have all three of you taking down Angoulême’s forces, but I can’t leave Tristan alone in Trianon with only Sabine to watch his back. Especially given she’s more likely than most to stick a knife in it.”
“Queens don’t explain themselves.”
“I know,” I said. “I’d send one of the twins, but it seems wrong to separate them after everything they’ve been through. And Tristan is more likely to listen to you than them, anyway. Someone needs to keep him behind those walls, and there’s no one better suited to the task than you.”
“Cécile…”
“You need to make him understand that one of us needs to be out here visible and fighting. If we both stay hidden within the safety of Trianon’s walls, we’ll lose the support of the rest of the Isle. And out here, there are things that I can–” I broke off, hugging my arms around my ribs. “You’re sure you can make it back to Trianon in the dark?”
“Better in the dark than that cursed sun.” I couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but I didn’t need to to know that he was smiling. “I’ll manage. Stay safe, Cécile.”
Inclining his head, he turned to go, but I caught his arm. “Tell Tristan that…” I love him. I bit down on the words. Queens didn’t send sentimental messages, and with what I’d been feeling from Tristan since dawn, I didn’t think he’d care anyway. “Tell him to think of a way to find Angoulême. Now that our plans are awry, it’s our best chance of stopping Roland.”
He nodded once, then disappeared into the dark.
* * *
“Gran?”
She looked up from the supplies she was organizing into neat piles on the cabin shelves. “What’s wrong, dear?”
“I can’t find Joss.” I’d spent the last half hour searching the camp for my sister, but no one had seen her since dusk.
My gran jerked her head up. “Is her horse gone?”
I shook my head.
“Then like as much she’s avoiding you.” She set a jar on a shelf, but her hand remained on the lid as though she’d forgotten what she intended to do next. “I’ll find her and explain the full truth of what happened to Genevieve. She’ll come around.”
If that had been the only thing Joss was upset about, I might have agreed. But it wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that all of this is horrible, and that it’s my fault.”
“From what Christophe told us, it sounds as though it was inevitable.” She withdrew her hand from the jar. “If you’ve come for absolution, you’re wasting your breath, child. You made your decision, and now is not the time to beg for forgiveness, it’s time to make things right.”
“I’m trying.” I sighed and sat down on a cot, my body so very weary. “I need a favor.”
“Oh?”