“We’ll see this through,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “The spell will wait.”
That was loyalty, pure and true. Where would I be without my friends? What would I be? And not just the twins and Marc, but Cécile, Chris, and Sabine. My nature was to be distrustful, but not with them. And it wasn’t a weakness.
Angoulême lay unmoving next to the fire where we’d left him, and I considered the state in which we’d found him. Alone and half mad, and not, I thought, from the solitude. It was the lack of control. He trusted no one. Not his mother, nor his followers, and certainly not Roland. The one exception seemed to be Lessa, whom he’d left to execute his plans. Only I didn’t believe for a second that he’d put his faith in my duplicitous sister without certain controls.
“He’s forced her into some sort of promise,” I muttered, knowing in my heart she wouldn’t have sworn to anything except under duress. Which, in its own way, would make him trust her less, because he’d know she’d be looking for ways to get out from under his control.
I was certain I’d rattled his confidence in her with the knowledge that she’d lied about Ana?s’s death, but what if we undermined it further? What would he do if he suspected she’d double-crossed him? What would he do if he thought she’d altered his plans?
“I’m glad of your decision,” I said to Victoria, my mind whirling. “I need you and your magic to take over Angoulême’s containment. And I need you to do a poor job of it.”
Victoria lifted one eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Because I need you two to help me play a trick.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Cécile
“I don’t like this strategy,” I said, wrapping my arms around Tristan’s neck to steady my nerves. I was used to being on stage, but never before had lives depended on my performance. And we were trying to fool a master of duplicity. “I don’t trust Lessa – her only loyalty is to herself. Already she’s gone back on her word. They were supposed to remain in Trollus.”
“I don’t trust her, either,” Tristan responded. “But we know she likes to play both sides until she’s certain who will land on top. Angoulême was a fool to believe she’d be content under his control. Lessa isn’t Roland.”
“No, she isn’t,” I said. “At least Roland cares for you in his strange fashion. Lessa only sees you as a means to an end. Once we’ve cured Roland, she’ll try to kill you. Or me. Again.”
“Likely,” he said, his voice cheerful. “But we don’t really have a choice. As long as Roland remains surrounded by humans, I can’t take him by force without risking casualties. And frankly, I’m not sure I could subdue him without killing him. Your spell took the iron from Martin and fixed him – I want that chance for Roland. And if we can cure his madness, then there’s nothing to stop us from killing Angoulême.”
My stomach clenched at his admission, scripted though it was. Just because he wanted to save Roland didn’t mean it was part of our plan.
“What if it’s a trap?” I asked, readying myself to lie. “What if she hasn’t given Roland the potion? What if we get there and I try to work the spell to cure him, and nothing happens. We’ll be caught in a battle in the middle of Courville.”
“It’s possible,” Tristan admitted. “But from her own lips, she doesn’t want Roland to be King.”
This was the crux of our plan: to create doubt in Angoulême’s mind of Lessa’s loyalty, but not certainty that she’d switched sides, because all he’d do then was have Roland kill her.
“You’re going to have to give up something,” I said. “She’s not going to let us near Roland without concessions, and we only have so much time before the potion passes through his system. And once it’s gone, we aren’t going to get another chance.”
“The plan will work.” His voice took on a slightly irritated edge.
“Don’t get mad at me for worrying,” I snapped. “You were the one who was so confident that capturing Angoulême in the tombs would go off without a hitch and look what happened. Vincent’s a mindless shell, and Victoria’s a grieving mess.”
Silence.
“A low blow, Cécile.” The fury in his voice made my skin burn, and I stepped back despite knowing it was an act. “You’d do well to remember that it’s to save your kind that I have to do this at all. That it’s my friends and people who are suffering to ensure their survival.”
I flinched, because his words were the cold truth.
“I’m going to finish packing up, and then we’re leaving,” he said. “Courville is a long ways from here.”
I waited until he’d gone to the far side of the clearing, then, whirling, I stormed around the fire and kicked Angoulême in the ribs. “I hate you,” I snarled. “This is your fault!”
The snow crunched as someone ran up behind me, then Chris lifted me off my feet and pulled me back. “Cécile, don’t!”