Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,37

about myself.”

“Ah, yes,” he says. “You already have me wrapped around your finger. It is your convent sister you are worried about.”

I cannot help it, I laugh, even though it is unwise. “Wrapped around my finger! Every time I am with you, I must fear your wrath, some punishment, or the further erosion of trust between us. If that is wrapping a man around one’s finger, then I am glad that is not ever something I aspired to.”

His face shifts, and his eyes look faintly bruised, as if I have wounded him in some way. He glances at the painting on the wall behind me, his grip on the goblet growing more pronounced. I hold my breath, wondering if he will succumb to the demands of his father, reaching out from the grave. “I have never hurt you.”

“No, you haven’t. As I have told you before, your honor and chivalry are the things I admire most about you.” It is not meant to be flattering, but an appeal to his better nature. The one I know he possesses. The one everybody else is fighting to destroy.

And in that moment, I recognize that he and I are fighting the same war. I was so hungry for the world’s respect that I forced myself onto a path that robbed me of my own. I would spare him from making that same mistake—especially with the lives of so many hanging in the balance.

 Chapter 17

I arrive at Sybella’s chamber dressed in the clothes of one of the maids—Saria, who is sleeping off a night of too much drink. Her cap is drawn close around my hair so that it shadows my face, and my eyes are cast down at the heavy bucket I carry rather than on the guards at the door. “May I take my lady her wash water?” I ask.

Tired and bored from a long night of tedious duty, they nod and step forward to open the door without knocking.

Sybella whirls from the path she was pacing in front of the hearth. When she sees it is me, she gives a brusque nod.

Things must be worse than I thought if she does not try to chase me away.

Once I hear the door closed firmly behind me, I carry the bucket to the hearth and set it down.

“Were you able to get an audience with the queen?” Sybella all but pounces. In truth, she looks as if her bones are trying to gnaw their way out of her skin.

“Yes, and she was glad for the information, if distressed to learn of it.”

She studies my appearance. “Are you finally to suffer consequences for your role in deceiving the king and the regent and be relegated to the position of scullery maid?”

“The king is decidedly not happy with me and lets me know in small ways. And, surely having to put up with his inept sexual threats counts as some punishment. I would not wish that on anyone.”

Her mouth quirks in one corner ever so slightly, but it feels like a victory. A moment later, she takes two steps toward me. “Has he forced himself on you? Harmed you in any way?”

It takes me a moment to recognize her concern for me. “Other than berating me for my heartless treachery, no. He is wroth with me, but still willing to listen. Still wanting . . . to recapture what he thought we had.” Oddly, I find myself blushing at this, embarrassed at this strange infatuation the king has acquired for me. I lift the bucket and carry it to the washstand. “He is still coming to grips with all that he has just learned. Torn between what he wants and hopes for and what his bishops and General Cassel are whispering in his ear.”

“You would do well to steer well clear of General Cassel,” Sybella says, an unaccustomed weight to her words.

I set the bucket down. “Why? What do you know of him?”

Sybella blinks in surprise. “What do you know of him?”

I curse myself and the curiosity that led me into this trap. I’ve no wish to tell Sybella of Maraud, but by the look she gives me, if I choose not to, I will be giving up all chance of earning her trust. “I learned of him when I was at Cognac. There was a prisoner in the dungeon. We came to be acquainted, and he spoke often of General Cassel’s brutality and lack of honor on the battlefield.”

Sybella raises her eyebrows in mild