can do not to raise my arms in the air and cheer. “I have called Rohan back to court to question further.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but he puts his hand up to silence her. “You are to listen today, not speak.” Her mouth snaps shut and for all that she tries to hide it, she looks truly concerned for the first time since I have known her.
“To ensure that such unsupported claims are not made in the future, you will be signing an agreement declaring your aid and support of our queen and swearing that you will not set your allies upon her. The agreement will also be entered into and signed by the Duke of Orléans and your husband. Nod if you understand.”
She hesitates, drawing the moment out, longing to defy him, calculating. Concluding that she does not have any rope left, she nods once.
“I want to be most clear on this. If you move against my queen again, it will be treason.” The king motions to his steward, who hurries forward with a small table. Next the Bishop of Narbonne steps forward and lays several sheets of parchment on the table. “If you will please read the document so you understand all that you are agreeing to, then sign it.”
Again the regent hesitates. This time, she looks to her husband, but he merely stares back at her, appearing more than a little repulsed. With no other options before her, she turns to the document, making a show of reading it carefully. At last she signs with a flourish. “This is not necessary, you know. I have nothing but your best int—”
“Sir Beaujeu, you may now sign the agreement.”
The Duke of Bourbon steps forward and signs, not bothering to read it, which makes me think that he has seen it before. This is confirmed when the Duke of Orléans signs, for he does not read it either. As the men step back, the king looks once more to his sister. “I thank you for guiding the crown when I was too young to do so, but that is no longer the case. Further, it is past time for you to look to your own holding and family. You have a daughter—turn your attention to her upbringing. Are we clear?”
The regent’s face is starkly white as she realizes she is being stripped of all power. I can see her mind churning, trying to find a way to make one last convincing argument, but the stony set of the king’s face makes it clear he will not listen. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Good. Captain Stuart will escort you and your husband from the palace and see you on the road to home. General Cassel? I will speak with you next.”
When he does not come forward, it takes everyone a moment to realize he is no longer here.
Chapter 105
Sybella
It takes me two days of restlessly walking the castle yard and two trips to the chapel, Jamette sniveling at my heels, to collect most of the information I need. I contrive a visit to the stables to check on my horse, who I told her I feared was lame after our long ride here, but as I draw near the mews to see the falcons, she balks, worried I will try to send a message. I shrug and let her steer me away.
I am not after the hawks or messages, but wanting to understand every nook and cranny this holding possesses. I now know who comes and goes, what gate they use, how carefully those gates are watched. I know the patterns of the household, how many of them attend chapel and when, and how often they change the guard. I have learned the impassable barriers and the more vulnerable spots—the drains, the culverts, the shortest points on the wall, as well as the parts of it that cannot be seen by the posted sentries. All in all, I am pleased with what I have learned, although it is discouraging as well, for there are few options. However there is still one prize I seek, one that I cannot explore without raising her suspicions.
That is why I have kept us out until nearly dark. She is tired and cold and cranky and half ready to shove me into the well and be done with it. “Here, let’s go look at the handsome guards. That ought to cheer you up.” Some of the ire smooths from her face as I steer her toward the