Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,170

to the fourth floor. As he escorts me down the dark cramped gallery, one of the doors opens and a woman steps out carrying a cloth-covered bowl. She is tall and thin, and was once elegant, but no longer. When she sees us, she grows motionless, waiting for us to pass. Our eyes meet, and with a shock, I recognize Madame Dinan. Her face is pale, not fashionably so, but drawn with it. Hatred shines bright in her eyes, animating an otherwise lifeless face.

“What is she doing here?” Her harsh words thrust into the silence of the hallway.

“The king has finally given me custody of her,” Pierre calls over his shoulder. “This was the closest holding.”

“She cannot stay,” she calls after his retreating back.

He stops walking so suddenly that I nearly plow into him, stepping nimbly aside just in time. Ignoring me, he slowly strides back toward Madame Dinan. “What did you say?” His words are couched in polite tones that do nothing to hide the threat lurking there.

Madame raises her head, gaze flitting briefly to his before fluttering away again. “I said she cannot stay.”

He takes a step closer, crowding her. “You do not give the orders here.”

She does not look at him, but at me, taking her strength from the hatred she harbors. “It is not your holding,” she says, and I cannot help but admire her foolish bravery. “It is still your father’s. Until he is dead, it is his, and he would not want her here.”

“But as he cannot tell me that, I shall be the one to decide, and I say she stays.”

Madame Dinan’s mouth works, twisting and pursing with all the words she wishes to say, but dares not. I think of all the sharp, witty, biting responses I have heard over the years, unsurprised that my family has finally driven them from her tongue.

“Now get rid of that slop,” he says, and stalks back down the hall to where I wait in silence. He sends one malevolent gaze my way, then resumes walking. My mind can hardly wrap itself around Madame. Her sharp, brittle elegance worn down to naught but a drudge.

Pierre stops again, this time opening a door. “Here is your room. There will be two guards posted outside. Be wise, sister dearest, and do not make this any harder than it has to be.”

I smile prettily at him. “I am certain I shall enjoy your generous hospitality, my lord.” He grabs my shoulder and shoves me into the room. As he steps outside, he motions the two guards forward and closes the door behind him.

I do not move, but stand perfectly still, willing my heart and my lungs to calm themselves. Force myself to feel my feet still anchored to the floor. My body that is not—yet—in any pain or danger. Finally, when I can draw a full breath and my hands do not shake, I allow myself to take stock of my room.

It is small and dark, dank and damp from the ocean outside. There is but one window, too high and narrow to climb out of. Nevertheless, I cross over to it and peer out, straight down to the sea hurling itself at the rocks below. Perhaps a mouse could scale that wall, but he would have to become a fish once he reached the bottom.

There is an unlit fireplace, and a bed with faded green curtains, and two thick, dusty tapestries. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. I am not a prisoner, I remind myself. I am here by choice. I am hoping that Pierre has something that will prove Rohan’s—and the regent’s—involvement in the rebellion. Once I have that, I shall leave. I glance back at the window. Somehow.

As I am considering yanking one of the curtains from the bed to use as an extra cloak, the door opens and two servants come in bearing my trunk, a woman close on their heels. As they set my trunk down, she tells them, “Light the fire, and find some candles.”

The familiarity of that voice has me reeling. “Jamette?” I ask, half fearing my mind has given in to panic in spite of my resolve.

The fire catches, casting a glow into the room. Moments later, three candles flare to life, and I see that it is, indeed, Jamette and that she is watching me.

“You may leave,” she tells the servants, who hastily do as instructed.

Once they have gone, I take a step toward her. “What are you doing