Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,4

not?”

She meets my eyes coolly. “Because she is dead.”

Her words barely have time to register before the steward announces me to the king. “The Lady Sybella, Your Majesty. As you requested.” With my mind still reeling from Genevieve’s news, I am ushered into the room. There is a faint rustle of silk as Genevieve slips in behind me and drifts—as silent and unobtrusive as a ghost—to stand among the other courtiers at the fringes of the room.

But I can spare her no more thought. The king sits on his throne with a cluster of military men and bishops behind him. Something about his manner has shifted since yesterday, although I cannot put my finger on it. The queen is not present, but the regent stands to his right. It is not until she steps away from the man she is speaking with—my brother’s lawyer, Monsieur Fremin—that my worst fears are awakened.

I force a placid, bemused smile upon my face. When Fremin sees me, he takes three steps forward. Only the formality of our surroundings keeps him from launching himself at me. “What have you done with my men?”

I halt, recoiling slightly, as if his abrasive behavior is threatening to me.

“Monsieur Fremin,” the king remonstrates. “I did not give you leave to assault the women of the court.”

Fremin fumes like a pot on a raging boil, but clamps his mouth shut and tries to collect himself. I alter my stride, imbuing my movement with hesitation. When I am in front of the throne, I sink into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty. How may I serve you?”

When I rise, the king’s gaze rests upon me. It is far less friendly and approving than it was just two days before. “Monsieur Fremin’s attendants have gone missing. He thinks you know something about their disappearance.”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Fremin steps closer, attempting to tower over me. “What happened to them?” He is nearly rigid with rage.

And fear. I do not envy him having to report his failure back to Pierre. “What happened to whom?” I ask bemusedly.

He takes another step closer. “My men are missing, and you are behind it.”

“Me?” I fill my voice with incredulity, trying to draw the king into the absurdity of such an accusation, but the way he studies me sends a ripple of apprehension across my shoulders. “How could I have caused your men to go missing?” I glance again at the king. He can’t possibly believe Fremin. I have given him no cause to do so. “Mayhap they simply headed home early?” I suggest.

“They would never do that.”

“Then mayhap they went wining and dicing, and have not yet come back? They would not be the first men to do so.”

The king ignores my suggestion, and my unease grows. “When we had someone sent to your room to fetch you here, the woman told us your room was empty. Your sisters weren’t there, nor your attendants.”

My heart plummets like a stone. Before it has reached the bottom of my stomach, I know what I must do, and allow pure terror to show on my face. “Your Majesty, that cannot be true! They were happily playing with their nurse when I left this morning to attend upon the queen!”

“And yet we did not find you with the queen when we went looking for you,” the regent points out.

I do not so much as look at her. It is the king my performance must convince. “And now you say they aren’t there?” I color my voice with distress and clasp my hands together tightly—as if only just barely managing not to wring them. “Who was sent?”

The regent answers. “Martine.”

My gaze frantically searches out Martine’s short figure. I take a step in her direction. “Are you certain? Could they not be outside, taking in some air?”

Martine shakes her head primly.

“We sent men to check precisely that,” says the regent, “once Martine returned with her report.”

Casting all conventions aside, I whirl back to face the king and throw myself onto the floor at his feet. “Please, Your Majesty! This is most alarming news. May I have leave to go see for myself? Perhaps they are playing some game or hiding from each other?”

“But of course. Your concern is understandable.” At least he is not so convinced of Fremin’s claims that he dismisses my request outright.

“You can’t let her go alone,” Fremin protests. “She might try to run.”

The king casts an aggrieved look at the lawyer. “She will not run without her