Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,53

me to stay with the king the entire night. And given what the urgent summons was likely about, this is the best place for me to be.

The faintest click comes from next to the fireplace. A servant bearing a load of firewood comes through a small door hidden by the paneling. He blinks in surprise when he sees me, then quickly looks away to tend the fire. When he has finished, he departs through the same door.

I have only a moment to ponder this discovery of hidden doors and servant passages before I hear the sound of voices—many voices—approaching. Alarm drives me to my feet. Even though the king may not feel the need to be discreet, I do not wish to proclaim my presence in his chamber quite so boldly. I hurry into the bedchamber and reach the valet’s closet just as the main door opens.

“What brings you here, Madame?” I hear the king ask.

“Clearly there is much afoot.” While the regent’s voice comes from outside the room in the hallway, it is as cool and possessed as ever. “I thought to offer my help in some way.” She thought to slip in with the others. Interesting that she was not invited.

“Thank you for your kind offer.” The king is stiff and formal. “Arrangements need to be made for Monsieur Fremin’s body. That would prove most helpful.”

A long moment of sour disappointment hangs in the air as she grapples with the king’s clear rejection of her participation. Finally, the regent says, “As you wish, sire.”

“Come in, gentlemen.” The king’s order is followed by heavy footsteps. I count six in addition to the king. He leads them straight through the elegant drawing room into the private council chamber that sits beyond it, their voices growing indistinct.

I hurry over to the wall that abuts the council chamber and place my ear against it.

“You don’t truly believe the woman is innocent, do you?” It is the traitorous Albi.

“According to the queen, Lady Sybella was with her the entire night,” the king reminds them.

“But, Your Majesty,” Albi continues, “she is an assassin. Well-schooled in the unholy arts of Saint Mortain. Surely such evil is not bound by the same rules of the physical world as we are.”

The silence that follows is not truly silent at all, but filled with unease that rifles through the men like a cold winter breeze.

“What are you saying?” the king finally asks, his voice holding both warning and the curling edges of fear.

“I’m saying their ways are shadowed and closed to the eyes of man. Just because no one saw her there at the time should not be enough to clear someone of her skills from suspicion.”

“And she did have a motive.” I recognize General Cassel’s voice. “She and Fremin have been at each other like cockerels ever since he arrived.”

“Not to mention that is two bodies she has left in her wake,” Captain Stuart says.

“Six.” General Cassel’s deep voice rasps over the others. “If you count the men Fremin claimed were missing.”

“We cannot forget that she is an assassin trained who does not serve us—you, Your Majesty—and is thus suspect,” the Bishop of Albi presses.

“What sort of saint trains assassins, anyway?” Stuart mutters.

“A heretical one.” It is the first time the king’s confessor has spoken.

“We have been over this,” the Bishop of Narbonne says. “The Nine are within Church canon.”

“They shouldn’t be,” the confessor mutters darkly.

“This does shed new light on Fremin’s missing men,” Cassel points out. “It could well be his claims were true.”

“But if his claims were true, what has happened to the girls?” The king’s voice is tired and strained. “For all of her strange ways, I cannot believe that she did them any harm.”

“Perhaps she and the queen are counting on your honor and chivalry to blind you to her crimes, as if you were some poor hapless fool who couldn’t see past such subterfuge.”

Silence follows, and I can only marvel at how skillfully the general has thrown his spear.

When the king speaks again, his voice is harder than iron. “Very well. You have convinced me. This matter is resolved. General Cassel,” he barks, “search the Lady Sybella’s room. Let us see if she is hiding something.”

 Chapter 27

Sybella

I am standing in front of the fire, considering my options, when the door bursts open. Only years of hard discipline keep me from startling, but I do not wish to give them the satisfaction. Instead, I turn calmly around.

Six of them storm into the room,