Your Majesty, and the Lady Sybella’s confessor.”
I bite the inside of my lip, lest my own surprise give his lie away.
“It seemed important I be here to give the lady the appropriate spiritual guidance.”
The other bishops are nonplussed. The Bishop of Angers actually sputters. “But you are one of them! You serve one of the Nine!”
Father Effram nods. “Yes, as I am ordained by the Church to do. You are forgetting that in Brittany, we worship Christ as well as His saints. And that the Nine are only a handful of the saints we worship. The others are the precise same ones that you yourself worship—the Magdalene, Saint Christopher, Saint Guinefort, and Saint Michael.”
The regent steps out of the shadows. “This is an important matter, to be discussed at length and in private. Not, I think, in front of the Lady Sybella. Nor any of those who would be affected by such a change.”
The king’s eyes are cool upon her. “Tell me, dear sister, how long have you known?”
The regent blinks. “Known what, Your Majesty?”
“Known of the convent and their purpose?”
“I learned of it when you brought the matter to Lady Sybella’s attention, the first day that Monsieur Fremin announced his men were missing.”
I cannot tell if she speaks the truth or if she is lying. Did none of her spies ever tell her of the convent? Either way, I have so few weapons that I must take chances. “Oh, but she did know, Your Majesty,” I protest. “As did your father. I do not know why they chose not to share it with you.”
The king sets his teeth, a faint flush of red appearing in his pale cheeks. “We will speak of this later, you and I.”
The regent whips her head toward me, her eyes full of murderous intent. Her attack, when it comes, is low and unexpected. “Your Majesty, given what we’ve learned of Lady Sybella, do you still think it appropriate for her to have custody of her sisters?”
He considers me, his gaze distant and assessing. “No. I do not.”
And there it is. My worst fears brought to life. I allow my face to fall. “Your Majesty.” My voice trembles with emotion. “I would remind you that I do not have custody of my sisters. They went missing while under the crown’s protection.”
“You are right, demoiselle. Matters of church doctrine aside, two young girls are missing. Two young girls who fall under the court’s protection, something I take most seriously. I have sent search parties out to scour the area and look for any signs of them. Hopefully we will have news soon.”
The king’s announcement of his search party sets near panic aflight in my chest. How far has Beast gotten? I wonder as I leave the audience chamber, careful to keep my steps slow and even. Between Beast’s need for secrecy and the two girls, he cannot be making good time.
And how far do the king’s men plan to search? Four men such as Fremin’s could cover a lot of ground. Much more than Beast and the girls could have.
Merde. What if he finds them? Then everything will be lost, and all that we have done will have been for nothing.
Chapter 11
Aeva
I smell them long before I can hear them, the stink of their iron weapons acrid in the cool, damp air. I crouch down lower in the bracken and crawl forward on my belly to look over the ridge into the valley below.
There are two, no three, columns of mounted soldiers wearing the king’s colors. They are heading toward the Loire River, but bearing west, toward us. The lines ride one bowshot apart, with some of the men beating at the bush with clubs, as if trying to flush pheasant out of hiding.
A prickle of anticipation runs along my scalp, for these are not mere hunters.
We have been traveling west for two days, staying well south of the river. We did not expect pursuit. Sybella had spun plans upon plans to keep them from noticing our absence. And even if they did, they would search north of the river toward Brittany, which is why we have been heading in a southerly direction, as if traveling to Poitou. But by their formation and crosshatching, it is clear that these men are not merely in pursuit, but searching.
I back away from the ridge. When I am far enough that they will not see me, I begin to run, keeping low and matching the rhythm of my movements