Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,72

tried to overpower her, and the second time had been a farce all along. And the third, well, it had been her misdirected effort to save him from himself.

Most of the other things that had angered him were about wounded pride. That she’d got the jump on him—twice. That she’d saved his life—twice. The last time in particular didn’t sit well. He’d told her to leave, but she’d ignored him and come back, giving him the precious minutes he needed for the others to arrive.

He had needed her help.

All of these occasions had one thing in common: Maraud not seeing her as an equal. He’d told himself that he knew better—knew what was best.

And he’d been wrong.

His hand clenched around the glass vial as he realized how rutting stupid he was. Why would she trust him? A prisoner, who tried to overpower her. A man whose family had betrayed the duchess. And then he’d gone and tried to make her fit into his plan—essentially telling her that his needs were more important than hers. Saints, he was an idiot. Three times an idiot.

Would she still be at court? Or would she have concluded her business and be long gone?

Had she managed to save the innocents she’d been so worried about? He hoped so.

Up ahead, Jaspar whistled, and reined in his horse. Maraud shoved the vial into the leather pouch at his waist, then pulled alongside him to survey the city ahead—Saint-Denis.

Even from their vantage point he could hear the music of celebration and the cheers of the solid mass of people filling the streets. A small cluster of figures stood on the steps of the basilica. Maraud could make out the king and queen, but only because of the crowns on their heads. Everyone else was so far away as to be indistinguishable from one another. Even Cassel’s bulk was disguised by the distance. But he was here. Maraud felt it in his bones.

“The watch captain said the royal party will ride to Paris first thing in the morning,” Jaspar reported. “A processional to introduce the new queen to her people. She’ll be accompanied by the entire court. If Cassel is with her, you’ll have a chance to see him then.”

Maraud sighed and eyed the crowd of revelers still gamboling through the narrow streets. “Do you think there is any lodging to be had for the night?”

Andry snorted. “Probably not. We’ll be lucky to find a stable to sleep in.”

“Better’n mud,” Tassin muttered.

 Chapter 40

The hardest part was getting across the damned bridge. There were more people clogging the streets of Paris than there were fish in the sea. Boats filled the river, all clustering near the island like piglets sucking on teats. They perched on top of the rooftops of the houses that lined both sides of the bridge that led to Notre Dame, leaning out of the windows and gathering in the doorways, spilling out onto the bridge and blocking the way. The nobler families that lived in the elegant storied houses were all likely waiting at the cathedral, although a few seemed to be having parties and were perched on windowsills to watch. Even the servants seemed to have abandoned their duties and puddled around the houses like voluminous skirts.

“There’s no way a royal procession can get through this crowd,” Jaspar muttered.

“Maybe they’ll part like the Red Sea when they get here,” Maraud said. It was one big field of people, none of them with the sense God gave a sheep. They just stood there, milling and gawking. How they expected the royal party to get through was anyone’s guess. He tried to use his elbows to force a path, but the crowd was implacable, and they were stuck in it as it slowly oozed toward Notre Dame. Maraud felt swallowed by the whole of it, almost like being swallowed by the mummer’s dance.

Only this time with more stinking and shoving.

They finally popped through the final throng of bystanders on the bridge, only to find the streets of the island itself just as crowded.

“Just keep moving toward the spire,” Andry said.

When they drew nearer the cathedral, Maraud used his elbows again to work to the edges, then broke free at last. The others followed in his wake, stumbling out behind him.

The square was bursting with so much color and life that it momentarily dazzled his eyes. Vibrant tapestries, boughs of greenery, and cartloads of flowers—even in winter!—filled every available space not taken up by the stone cathedral. Maraud