Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,116

chest so loudly it is all I can do not to cover my ears. “Whatever strengths I have do not come from you,” he growls. “I have acquired most of them myself, while others are gifts from the saint who claimed me at birth.”

“Claimed you?” Cassel snorts. “Who would claim such a child? Did you make an offering to him? A sacrifice on his altar?”

“No. You did when you forced yourself on my mother. I am the result of that offering, and Camulos claims all such offerings as his own.”

“Is that all it took?” Cassel’s voice holds a faint note of interest, as if he is intrigued by the idea of acquiring more such sons. “If you have no desire to prove this to anyone, why claim you’re my son?”

“I would have gone happily to my deathbed never having met you. It was not I who informed the court.”

“No.” The single word is drawn out, thoughtful. “It was not you. What is the girl to you?”

“What girl?”

“Do not play the dumb beast with me. The Lady Sybella. She is the one who told the king.”

“She is nothing to me.” I nearly cheer that Beast does not rise to the bait. “One of the queen’s most trusted attendants, serving Her Majesty just as I do.”

“That is a lie. She claimed you were connected to her sisters.”

“That part is true. My sister was married to her father, years ago. I myself learned of it only recently, and it has naught to do with my service to the queen.”

As silence falls between them, General Cassel begins to slowly pace in front of the cell door. “And yet she shared this knowledge with the court. Why is that, I wonder?”

“I have heard she has a great fondness for justice.”

“But how would she come to know of this connection between us?”

“Captain Dunois told her.”

Cassel stops walking. “Did you know Captain Dunois well?”

“We fought together in the Mad War, then served on the queen’s council together. He was one of the most loyal, valiant, and honorable men I have ever known.”

The general’s bark of laughter raises my hackles. “Is that what he told you?”

“It is what I observed with my own eyes.” The ire in Beast’s voice would surely worry a less vainglorious man.

“He turned his back on his liege and threw in his fortunes with the dukes rebelling against the crown. When last I looked, that was the very definition of treason.”

“That is where his honor shines brightest. His liege overstepped, moving without cause to usurp power, lands, and titles legitimately held by others. That he stood against those illegal ambitions when so few others did is a sign of great integrity. Even a king must obey the laws.”

Cassel shrugs. “The king is the law. He can change them at will.”

“But should he? If treaties have been signed, successions agreed upon, borders defined, is it right to change them on one man’s—or woman’s—whim?”

“You sound like Captain Dunois, and I will not tolerate such treason in my own son.”

Beast laughs outright at that, a great rolling sound that fills the dungeons. “As you said, there is no proof that I am your son. You have no power over me.”

“Don’t I?” The general’s musing question sends goose flesh down my arms. “I may not be able to question the queen, but it will be easy enough for me to question the girl. She lies more than most women, and is better at it. There are many answers I wish to have from her. And as she is an assassin trained, I suspect it will be a challenge to convince her to spill her secrets.” He leans in closer to the window of Beast’s door. “Have I mentioned how much I enjoy challenges?” My heart is now beating as rapidly as theirs. Not in fear, at least not for myself, but for Beast. Cassel is baiting him as surely as a hunter baits a bear.

A low growl rumbles through the dungeons, echoing off the stone walls, chasing away any memory of his former laughter. There is a clank of chains and a roar as Beast slams into the door of his cell.

Cassel steps back, watching with fascination and growing excitement. “Such power you possess,” he murmurs.

Beast’s enormous hands grasp the iron bars in the small window of the door, bulging and straining as they try to tear them from their moorings.

With taunting patience, Cassel turns to the small table behind him, looking carefully before picking up one of