Marc returned to Trianon.
“All he does is play with his imaginary games and jabber at the dog,” Sabine said, slamming my dinner down on the table in front of me. “We don’t even know what he’s doing other than abandoning us.”
“He’s thinking,” Marc said, wandering through my puzzle while I picked at the roast chicken, setting the greens on the floor for the dog. He didn’t want them either. “And he hasn’t abandoned us – he’s merely focused on the most central problem.”
“You’ll excuse me if I see it differently,” she said. “He’s left us undefended, and even from here, we can see his cursed brother burning his way through the countryside. There’s nothing to stop Roland from attacking Trianon at his leisure. Pigalle was destroyed when the waves swamped the harbor, plus we have hundreds of refugees who fled Roland’s attack looking for succor. We have to feed them, keep them warm, and he won’t so much as stir from this room.”
“The situation is dire,” Marc agreed. “But we cannot reasonably expect him to be a solution to every problem.”
“So what do you suggest? That we leave him to sit here and do nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Marc said, “if he comes up with a solution. But in the meantime, we must hold up our end until he is himself again.”
“When will that be?” Sabine demanded. “He’s still got two more of those wretched bits of magic.”
“That might need to be rectified.”
I patted the pocket containing my seeds, the lump of the handkerchief containing them chasing away the momentary pang of unease.
“We need to assemble our council,” Marc said. “Fred, Marie, Tips, and whatever half-bloods he feels should be present. They need to be informed that our plan to take down Roland failed, but that Cécile, the twins, and Chris’s followers are working to get as many to safety as possible. We need to keep Trianon secure for those who are here and for those who will come.”
Sabine nodded. “I’ll fetch them here.”
As she turned to leave, Marc caught her arm. “You aren’t helpless in this, Sabine. Circumstance has put you in a position to make a difference, if you are willing.”
“I am,” she said. When she reached the door, she hesitated. “I’m very glad to have you back with us, Marc.”
My cousin waited until the door shut before turning to me. “Think faster, Tristan. We don’t have much time.”
I nodded once, then turned back to my puzzle.
* * *
They met in the council chambers – five of them, for Tips had brought Zoé. All of them glared at me until Marc came into the room. “Ignore him,” he said. “Tristan isn’t the reason why we are here.”
“Then I don’t have time for this.” Marie stood.
“My lady,” Marc said. “I’d ask that you reconsider how your time is best spent. Trianon is bursting at the seams with those who have lost their homes.”
She crossed her arms. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
Marc inclined his head. “I’ve no doubt that you do. But the fact remains that they need shelter, and you are in the best position to manage that process. The peerage, I expect, have empty rooms they could fill.”
“Then order them to open their doors.”
Marc leaned back in his chair. “You have a more deft touch. Better for them to delight in their own charity than resent being ordered about.” His gaze shifted. “Zoé will watch over your son.”
“I’m not leaving Aiden in the care of one of you creatures.”
Both Zoé and Tips stiffened, but Marc raised a calming hand. “Zoé’s power is formidable. If Trianon is attacked, she is capable of taking Aiden to safety. Can you claim as much?”
Marie’s jaw tightened.
“My lady, your grievance is with King Thibault. Please don’t allow your hatred of him to color the rest of us with the same brush. We are not him, and even if we were, you have a duty to your people.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, then left the room.
“Fred,” Marc continued. “I need you to send men out to bring back what grain and supplies you can in order to keep the city fed.”
“I’m not leaving Trianon’s walls undefended,” Cécile’s brother said, glancing my direction.
“Tips and his half-bloods will hold the wall,” Marc replied. “With my help.”
“Not happening,” Fred said. “I’m not delegating the defense of the city to a bunch of miners and chambermaids, never mind that they might just decide to abandon their posts halfway through the battle.”
That comment, I was quite certain, was directed at me.
“Then don’t,” Tips snapped. “Try defending yourselves if Angoulême’s followers come calling, and see how long you last.”