Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,74

brilliant in the sun. A shaft of sunlight sparkled off a woman’s silver necklace, nearly blinding him. As he blinked the dark spots from his vision, she turned to stare at the tower that had so miraculously lowered Peace. Her eyes were wide with wonder. Golden brown eyes that made his breath catch in his throat.

Lucinda. She was still at court.

Maraud waited until she, reluctantly it seemed to him, hurried to catch up to the others, then fell into step beside Valine, and allowed the dispersing crowd to separate them from the others. Not so much that they’d never find each other, but enough that they couldn’t hear every word he said to Valine. “I need you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“It would be best if you could do it without asking questions.”

She raised one eyebrow. “It would be best if Tassin would quit picking his teeth after he eats, but that doesn’t seem likely.”

Maraud sighed. “I need you to get a message to someone.”

“There’s a reason you can’t go?”

Maraud looked over at the queen’s departing procession. “Because the person is in residence at the palace.”

Valine gave a low whistle. “Good reason. Now for the important question. Who am I to get this message to? Do they have information on Cassel?”

Maraud grabbed on to that. “Yes, I think they do.”

“Okay, then. Who and when?”

Maraud casually looked up as if admiring the cathedral. “Lucinda,” he told the spires that towered above them.

When the quiet stretched out so far he thought she hadn’t heard, he risked glancing back at her. She was smirking. “Jaspar owes me. I knew things weren’t over between you two.”

“You placed a wager?”

She ignored his offended pride. “What makes you think she’s at the palace?”

“I saw her just now. She was riding with the queen’s attendants and courtiers.”

Valine whistled again. “Coming up in the world is our Lucinda. I wonder who she’s planning to poison this time.”

Maraud sighed. “And if you don’t say anything to the others, I’ll pay you twice whatever Jaspar owes you.”

 Chapter 41

Genevieve

We do not stay at the royal palace in the old city but cross the river to the Louvre, which sits on the right bank of the Seine. It is the moment I’ve come to hate the most—this arriving at a new place for the night. The long moments of awkwardness strung out like pearls on a chain, each one plump with dread and embarrassment at the last-minute scramble to decide where to put me.

But this time, it seems to all have been decided beforehand, and an understeward escorts me past the queen’s apartments on the ground floor to a chamber on the first floor, where the king’s rooms are. It is a large, well-appointed room, the sort that would be assigned to a court favorite. It is less heavy feeling than most of the palace rooms. Perhaps because the rich curtains and wall hangings are of a softer blue, shot through with yellow. A large canopied bed dominates one wall, and an equally large fireplace the other. The third wall holds an oriel window—a true luxury.

The understeward’s gaze lingers briefly on my necklace before he bows out of the room. I have gotten somewhat used to the opulence of the French court after the last five years, but have never had it lavished on me. Not wishing to dwell on what it might mean, I cross to the window. It looks down into the palace courtyard, the stables and barns to the north, the armory and smithy to the south. The courtyard itself is full of vendor stalls—indeed, it is nearly a small market—set up to take advantage of the arrival of all the nobles with their easy coin. My stomach twists in hunger—not for what they are selling, but for the freedom of being outside wandering in a crowd, unwatched.

At the door I pause, trying to decide the best approach. In the end, I decide to brazen it out. I have not been forbidden to go anywhere. Yet.

I open the door and step into the hallway, smiling brightly at the guards. “I’m going to visit the market stalls,” I say as I begin walking. Gilbert gapes at me, then looks to Roland, unsure what to do. Before they can decide to stop me, I call out over my shoulder, “Well, are you coming?” I flutter my lashes. As always, Gilbert grows flustered and blushes, but it diverts his mind from protesting.

* * *

Outside in the courtyard, rubbing shoulders with pie sellers