Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,49

you no harm. Not with us just outside the door.”

“If he meant me no harm, why did he not come out immediately and tell you that I was not inside?”

They exchange glances again, then one of them raps on the door. Nothing. His face shifts into hard lines as he lifts the latch and steps inside. The other guard and I follow.

The first man stops in the middle of the room. “He’s not here.” His voice holds a note of confusion.

“No,” I say slowly. “At least not where we can see. Could you please check under the bed?”

The guard shoots me an exasperated look. “I’m sure he—”

“Did you see him leave?” I demand.

The man gets down on his knees to look under the bed. “He is not there, my lady,” he says, then stands with as much dignity as he can muster.

“Could he be hiding in the garderobe?”

Not bothering to argue, he goes to check. “It is empty.”

I wrap my arms around myself, as if trying to get warm. The second guard notices the window standing open. Clearly wanting to appease my roused temper, he asks, “Would my lady like me to close her window?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I hold my breath as he crosses over to the window and grabs the latch. “Sweet Jesu!” he breathes.

“What?” The other guard nearly bumps into me as we hurry over to see. Fremin’s body is exactly where we left it, the entire courtyard glistening with a faint wash of morning dew.

I cross myself. “We should send for a physician. He is likely gravely injured.”

The guards exchange a glance. “He is likely dead, my lady,” one of them says gently.

I do my best to look shocked.

 Chapter 24

“Heloise?” I whisper softly, not wanting to disturb the queen.

The Brigantian looks up, alert but not startled. “Lady Sybella. I did not realize you’d left.”

Good. Then none of the other less loyal attendants will have noticed either. “Are the others still breaking their fast?”

“Yes.” Her mouth twists in derision. “Saints forbid they should go hungry while attending to their queen.”

“That’s not fair, Heloise.” The queen’s voice comes from the bed. “We do not want them any more than they wish to be here, and we encourage them to leave at every opportunity.”

“That may well be,” Heloise concedes. “And if their service to you at other times were in any way commendable, I would not be burdened with such uncharitable thoughts.”

I leave her smirking at the queen’s garments she is laying out and approach the bed. “How is Your Majesty feeling this morning?”

“Better,” she says with a smile. “Your tincture is working.”

For the dozenth time, I wish I could leave her out of all this. Wish I could keep her in the dark. But experience has already proved that an uninformed queen is both vulnerable and righteously angry.

“I am glad. I will prepare this morning’s for you in a moment, but first”—I lower my voice—“I must apprise you of some recent events.”

She hears something in my tone and glances up at me warily. “I am listening.”

“I’m afraid Monsieur Fremin has met with a most unfortunate accident. Last night, while I was attending upon you, he was waiting in my room to speak with me and managed to lean too far out the window. He fell to his death.”

A single note of exquisite silence follows my news.

“How clumsy of him,” the queen murmurs dryly, nearly echoing Lazare’s response.

Surely the equanimity with which she greets all the tumult that surrounds me is as beneficent as that of any saint. I likely should not accept it as easily as I do, but it is one of the few grace notes in my life.

“Well, it is good that you were here attending upon me, so you did not have to witness such a tragedy.” She is quiet a long moment, a veritable tempest of questions she’d like to ask gleaming in her eyes. “Did Fremin’s soul linger?”

I feel my face harden. “Yes. And such a despicable thing it was. We were right all along. He had always planned to return for the girls and myself, regardless of the king’s decision.”

“Well, good riddance, then,” she mutters.

I fold my hands demurely. “I will be sure to pray for him, Your Majesty.”

“As will I. Now, I think it would be a good time for my tonic, if you don’t mind? I find my stomach unsettled somewhat.”

I curtsy. “I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty.” My voice is low with remorse.

“No,” she says quietly. “It is not you