Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,115

the hardest, but he may have some insight I do not. “I am sorry,” I say softly. “Sorry that I spoke out about your connection to the general, but I could not keep silent in the face of the vile accusations made by the regent.”

“I would rather be imprisoned for defiance than have anyone think me capable of such an act. But now you will have drawn his attention and need to be alert. He is every bit as dangerous as Lord d’Albret was and will poke and prod at us for weaknesses.”

“You do not have to tell me that,” I mutter. “Why is he so set against believing anything you have reported?”

Beast’s entire face hardens, and his heart quickens. “Because he thrives on war and discord and does not care what lives are lost, as long as there is the opportunity for glory and power.”

“But how does that serve the king?”

“The king is only the second most important thing to men like Cassel. The first is his own self-interest or else he would at least have entertained the report. Mayhap he wishes it to come to a head so he can ride into the fray and declare himself the savior.”

“Surely the king would see through such raw self-interest?”

“You saw the way he watched the man. A noxious mix of fascination and admiration, tempered by only a sliver of doubt. That is what makes the general so dangerous—the sheer power of his will pulls others into its path.”

“How will we ever get the king to listen, let alone act?”

“I don’t know that you can” is Beast’s stark reply.

As I consider his words, Gen appears, her eyes wide. “He is coming!” she hisses.

“Who is that?” Beast asks.

“Genevieve. Who is coming?” I ask her. “The guard?”

“No! The general!”

Merde. “We have to go,” I tell Beast as Gen grabs my elbow and begins pulling me away from his cell door.

“In here,” she whispers, tugging me into the cell next to Beast’s. This one does not have a solid wooden door, but iron bars. However, if we press ourselves into the corner and draw the shadows around us, he will not be able to see us unless he has reason to enter the cell. We hide not a moment too soon—the heels of Cassel’s boots echoing off the stone walls. Gen nudges me, then points to the suit of armor against the wall behind us and to the right. Cassel is reflected back in its polished surface.

He is not rushing, but strolling, as if he has all the time in the world. He glances at the small table holding all of Beast’s possessions before continuing to Beast’s cell.

“Prove to me you are who you say you are, else I will believe you are merely some charlatan sent by my enemies.”

Beast’s voice rumbles out of his dark prison. “Have you never looked in a mirror?”

“That merely tells me there is more than one ugly man of exceptional size in France. You have no proof that I was in Brittany as you claim.”

“There were and are a dozen witnesses who heard you boast of your occupation of that holding during the war. It was one of the moves that brought you so quickly to the attention of King Louis.”

“Present your witnesses. Let us see how their stories hold up under my questioning.”

“I’m not interested in proving anything to you.”

“Then I will have no choice but to believe you are making all this up and have been planted by my enemies.” His voice drops. “The queen perhaps.”

“What would you accept as proof?” Beasts wonders. “The great welts and bruises that never faded from my mother’s throat and reminded her daily of how you held her down as you dishonored her?”

Cassel’s heartbeat, which has been steady until now, comes more rapidly. “Would she come to court to make that claim? For if she does, no one will believe her. The fact that she conceived proves that she enjoyed it.”

Of all the lies men have fashioned around women, this is one of the most hateful.

Beast holds no patience for it either. “Some philosophers subscribe to that view, but the real world tells a far different story.”

Cassel puts his hands behind his back and considers Beast. “So my son is the notorious Benebic de Waroch. The man they say can carry an ox in each hand and fight a dozen men at once. This sounds like a son I would be willing to call my own.”

Beast’s heart thuds against his