Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,186

my dealings with others to be negotiations or trades to be worked out. One would never give a piece of one’s heart away in a mere trade. Or worse, with nothing to show for it but pain and a nearly suffocating remorse.

But, a small voice reminds me, you have found joy and laugher, love and grace, as well.

And while that is true, when placed on a scale that tips so heavily toward tragedy, I fear it will break my heart beyond repair.

When I reach my room, I cross to the cupboard against the wall, yank open the bottom drawer, and take out my pack—the very one I carried with me from Cognac. I quickly collect all my various knives and other weapons from their hiding places about the room and am just shoving the last of them into it when the king arrives.

I barely glance up from my packing.

He closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?” He tries to sound peremptory, but the words come out vaguely uneasy instead.

“I must get to Sybella.”

“I have not given you leave to go anywhere,” he replies.

I stop long enough to give him my full attention. “Then you will have to imprison me again—or kill me—for I will not rest until I have gotten her out of there.”

“You are so certain she is in danger?”

I clench my fists so I will not throw my pack at him. “Yes, Your Majesty. I am completely certain of it. As are you.”

He makes a noise of disagreement.

It is only the brief flicker of shame that I see in his eyes that stops me from getting angrier. “Sire, ask yourself why d’Albret used so many extreme and underhanded methods to retrieve his sisters. Why not simply petition the king and be satisfied with his answer?”

“Because under the law they are his to—”

“They are his. That’s all he believes. He views them not just as his responsibility, as you believe, but as his possessions. He believes he owes them less consideration than he does his horse or hunting hound. That they are his to do with as he wants. To use in any way he sees fit to advance his power, form an alliance, slake his lust, or punish simply because he is angry.

“You are governed by honor and chivalry, Your Majesty, but he is not. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

“You have seen him this way with his sisters?”

“No. I have seen him this way with Sir Crunard, a man who by all measures is his equal both by virtue of his sex and lineage. When Crunard would not do as he bid, he set a half dozen men with swords upon him in answer to such perceived disrespect. When Crunard survived that, d’Albret sent an entire battalion of men to kill him or bring him back. When that failed, d’Albret then seized Crunard—from your own palace in Paris!—and forced him to take part in a rebellion. He held Sir Crunard’s own father hostage to force his cooperation.”

“You have made it clear that the man is a brute, but that is not against the law.”

I close my eyes so I will not fly at him in a murderous rage. “Isn’t it? Is not what General Cassel did against the law? Is not what your own sister did against the law? You were willing enough to punish her. You were willing enough to punish Sir Waroch when you thought he’d simply left his post without your leave. Is a woman’s safety so much less deserving of the law’s protection?”

“But Viscount d’Albret has done nothing to me—”

“To you. Is that what the standard is? If so, how easily you forget what both Crunard and I have told you—that he was involved in the rebellion. That he has allied with your sister time and time again to move against you. However, that is your choice to ignore, for it only endangers your own power and authority. What you have done with Sybella endangers her very life.”

“He would not harm her. She is his sister!”

I do not even try to mask my scorn. “Mayhap we have a very different definition of harm, Your Majesty. Or mayhap I have been wrong about you all this time.”

He looks so confused, so conflicted, that it touches some deep patience I did not know I possess. Or mayhap the saints themselves lend me theirs in this moment. I take a deep breath. “May we sit for a moment?” I motion to one