Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,88

in Mortain’s arts. So while I know more ways to kill a man than you, it has nothing to do with being a d’Albret and everything to do with being the daughter of Death.”

Pierre stares at me a long moment, his face blank with incomprehension before it grows pale. “You lie.”

I smile, genuinely amused. “That is what children tell themselves to avoid an unpleasant truth. Ask how I was able to disarm you and your two soldiers in the garden alone. How was I able to kill four of your most ruthless men? Or the assassin you sent for me? Or lure Fremin to his death in such a way that all have accepted it as an accident?”

His heart beats fast with fear. “I was there when you were born—sitting right outside the chamber. I heard your first mewling cries, saw your wrinkled red face.”

“Ah, but were you in my mother’s bedchamber nine months before? No, of course you weren’t.” I lean closer, as if whispering a confidence. “I know it is upsetting to think of your father being cuckolded, for if it can happen to him, it can certainly happen to you. But at least take comfort in the knowledge that he was cuckolded by Death and not some simpering courtier.”

It is only when I see the truth of my words finally sink in, see the fear that widens his eyes, that I turn and walk away.

 Chapter 49

The sense of power I feel does not leave me, not even when, the next day, I find myself before the king.

His audience chamber is an enormous room with towering ceilings, meant to hold crowds of petitioners and courtiers as they watch the king of France hear their pleas, hand down his proclamations, and mete out justice. But this morning, the room is empty of all but a small handful of the king’s closest advisors, the ones I have come to know all too well. General Cassel stands behind the king on his left, while his confessor is to his right. The regent, I am happy to note, has been relegated to a position farther down, standing with the bishops. From the corner of my eye I glimpse the humble brown of Father Effram’s robes among all the snowy white and scarlet, and wonder how he gained a seat at this table.

“Sister, dearest!” Pierre breaks away from the others, coming forward to greet me when I am only halfway to the dais. He takes my hands in his, and I stare pointedly at the cut on the back of his hand and smile.

His pulse quickens in anger.

“When your brother heard of what had befallen his men, he became most worried on your behalf, Lady Sybella,” the king says. “He wished to assure himself of your safety.” The king looks both pleased and relieved, as if the world has once more been reordered to his liking.

“Indeed.” Pierre squeezes my hands in what looks like an affectionate gesture, but the grip grinds my bones together painfully. “I had to see for myself that you were alive and well.”

I tilt my head, as if perplexed. “But, brother, we saw each other last night, at the coronation ball. Right after you had spoken with the regent.” Something flickers in Pierre’s eyes—fear? Unease?

Before he can say anything, the Bishop of Albi speaks. “Your Majesty, surely Viscount d’Albret’s concern for his sister can ease all the misgivings she expressed regarding Monsieur Fremin and his men before they disappeared.”

With his back still to the others, Pierre asks, “And what misgivings would those be?” His voice is normal, controlled, but his gaze is hot with fury.

“She thought your men afraid to bring you ill news,” the king explains, watching us both closely.

“Ah, in that she may have been correct. I do not tolerate failure, not when my sisters’ safety is concerned.”

“If you are so concerned for our safety, why have you not asked after our younger sisters?”

In the beat of silence that follows, he realizes his mistake even as my words renew the others’ uncertainty. He recovers quickly. “Because I have already heard of it.” He shifts to face the king and his council. “Imagine my surprise to arrive in Paris and learn most disturbing rumors regarding my sisters. Rumors Madame Regent has confirmed are true. I am not inclined to allow even one sister to remain in royal custody.”

The king shifts on his throne, face grown thunderous, and the entire room pauses in stunned silence. “We believe Monsieur Fremin’s