gesture. “You only want your sisters for political gain, as does your brother. You are as ruthless and political a creature as he is.”
His words probe roughly at a bruise that has not yet healed. “Only because life has forced me to be.”
He reaches for one of the map weights and begins rubbing it with his fingers. “I am sick of your entire family.”
Would that you were sick enough to banish me from court, I think, but the gods never make it that easy.
As if in rebuke, the small black pebble in my pocket grows warm. It is not too late to provoke him to such an act. I lift my chin in defiance. “I have done everything I can to meet your queen’s needs. I do not know what else I can do to persuade you that I have only her best interests at heart.”
He closes his hand around the map weight, capturing it. “Leave.” The word bursts from him like an overripe fig from its skin and my heart fair dances a jig in my chest. He leans forward, warming to the idea. “The only way you will ever convince me you are not the political creature I believe you to be is to love the queen enough to leave court. The sooner, the better.” His heart beats rapidly with the intensity of his emotions.
I bow my head. “If only I could be assured of the queen’s safety, I would do so at once.”
My words displease him. “Safe from what?”
“The regent. She is the only one who has moved against her.”
He studies the map weight in his hand. “Then you will be most pleased to know that I have ordered her to remove herself from court for the time being. She has her own family to see to, after all.”
It is hard, so hard, to keep my jubilation from my face. I incline my head in thanks. “You are correct, Your Majesty. I am comforted knowing that is the case.”
“Then you will have no issue leaving as soon as possible? Although I suppose today is too much to hope for.”
“Not impossible, no. Not if that is what you wish.”
He carefully sets the map weight on the table. “It is. Now go.”
* * *
That very afternoon, the same day the regent was to expose Gen, browbeat the king, and try to reclaim his power for her own, I leave the palace. Not, however, before I see her own entourage ride out. “We have not seen the last of her,” the queen says, standing at my side as we watch the departure from her solar.
“No, but it is a reprieve, and I will gladly take it.”
“As will I. Now be safe. And Godspeed to you all.”
Of course, the king does not take my word that I will leave and has chosen to send an escort to accompany me to the Abbey of Saint Odile, the place recommended to us by Father Effram. I do not mind, for the hardest part is behind us. Now all we must do is warn the Breton barons of Rohan’s plans, aid them as necessary, then return with the proof of his treason. While Rohan is one of the wealthiest land owners in Brittany, he is only one man, and his resources are limited.
The abbey is but an hour’s ride from Paris. As we leave, the fear and tension is pulled from my body, as if the end of it has snagged on the walls of the palace gate. It slowly unravels until it is naught but a thin, frayed thread that snaps when we pass out of the city limits.
When we arrive at the abbey, the abbess herself greets me. She was born in Brittany, and her mother was a dedicand of Saint Brigantia. She does not offer any refreshment to my guards, but instead ushers me inside while they turn around and begin their ride back to the city. Once we are within the sturdy stone walls, she glances at me. “Would you like to rest and partake of some refreshment?”
“No thank you, Reverend Mother.”
Her mouth twitches. “I did not think so. And it is just as well, as I think the larger one is going to chop all my trees into firewood to pass the waiting.”
We proceed through the abbey to the grounds behind it where I spy the others. Beast looks up just then, drops his ax, and begins striding toward me. “It is done. We are free.”
Chapter 72
“How many do