gentle and coaxing.
The dark ribbon of rage unfurls inside me. “I want to kill him,” I whisper, the longing in my heart causing my voice to tremble. “I want to slip my hands around his throat and squeeze the life from him. I want to squelch any threat he may now—or ever—present to those I love.” As the wave of fury subsides, an icy fear replaces it. “But surely it is one thing to kill the henchmen as they came to our room to kidnap my sisters, or to throw a knife at Pierre and the men who think to grab them from my arms. But to kill a man for something he might do in the future feels as if I am crossing a dangerous moral line. And yet no matter how I look at it, the only solution I can see is his death.”
“What happens if you don’t kill him?”
“He tells the king, or the regent. They believe him. I am tried and hanged for murder. My sisters will have no one to see to their safety. Worse, who is to say that Pierre won’t find them now that it is known I serve the convent? Eventually, he will look there, and he will find them.”
“The convent would not hand them over.”
“Not without a fight, no. But how can they withstand the thousands of troops Pierre commands? Must they all die, too, because of my blighted family?”
In the silence that follows, I can hear the cogs of his mind turning. At last he says, “The solution is obvious, child. You are acting out of love, not embracing darkness for its own sake. You must follow your heart.”
“Even if my heart says to kill him?”
He is quiet so long, I wonder if he is going to leave me to answer my own question.
“You—all his daughters—have only touched the surface of your power. You must stop being afraid to use it. Being small and hiding yourself does not serve anyone. It may have once, but no longer.”
His words fill me with both trepidation and exhilaration. It is the exhilaration that scares me the most. “But then I become what I am trying to protect my sisters from.”
“The Dark Mother takes life in order to make room for new life. But every time she does, she creates an opening for rebirth.”
For some reason, his words create a flutter of panic deep within me. “I am not the Dark Mother,” I rush to point out.
“Perhaps not, but that does not mean we cannot learn from her. Even when death looks us in the face, we can still choose life. If we do, we are reborn into something new. If not, death claims us for eternity.”
“Are you saying that if I threaten Fremin with death, he may change his ways?” I snort. “He is too afraid of Pierre to do that.”
“Fear is a powerful thing,” Father Effram agrees. “And goes to the crux of what I am asking you. Is your fear of the darkness greater than your love of your sisters?”
His words feel like a slap in the face, even as they pluck the chords of my own memory: Hate cannot be fought with hate. Evil cannot be conquered by darkness. Only love has the power to conquer them both.
And as soon as I remember those words, I realize there is no choice but to kill Fremin.
Chapter 16
Genevieve
While not pleased with the news I carried, the queen was most grateful to have it. Indeed, she treated me with every courtesy and did not make me grovel. She is one of the rare nobles who dip into the well of power only to do what must be done rather than to feed her own gnawing hunger.
However, I am not allowed to bask for long in the queen’s beneficence. One of the understewards appears in the hall before me with a summons from the king.
He is not in his apartments when I arrive. Uncertain what to do, I perch on the velvet-covered bench and wait. Moments later, I hear his voice and that of his valet from inside his bedchamber. As he draws nearer the door, he calls back, “And burn the clothes. You will never be able to remove the stink of death from them.”
His words capture my attention as surely as a hook snags a fish.
When he enters the salon, his cheeks are flushed and his hair still faintly damp, as if he has just come from a bath. Giving no greeting,