His face was pale and grim, but he was alive. He was alive, and he was not harmed, and he met her eyes.
“Your Majesty,” said Erec, and bowed. Rachelle curtsied awkwardly a moment after.
“I thought it well for appearances if my son were here, this final night,” said the King. “After all, the announcement we make tonight closely concerns him, does it not?”
“Of course,” said Erec, and Rachelle knew that she was the only one who could hear the suppressed annoyance in his voice.
“I’ll leave him in your care and Mademoiselle Brinon’s,” said the King, giving Armand’s shoulder a light slap, and then returned to the dancing.
“Well, well, well,” said Erec. “Monsieur Vareilles, whatever shall we do with you?”
“Let him dance with me,” said Rachelle.
“You’ll plot,” said Erec.
“Yes,” she said, “but what can we do? You have your forestborn everywhere in the crowd.”
“That does not explain why I should let you.”
“Because you’ll take me away again at the end of the dance,” she said. “And you would love to show how you can give me and take me away.”
He bowed to her. “You have answered my riddle. Dance, then, while you still can.”
Armand didn’t move, so Rachelle stepped forward, took his hands, and drew them into the dance.
“Are you real?” he asked softly once they were dancing.
“What?” said Rachelle.
“Ever since I let them raise the Forest, the visions are worse. Everything feels like a dream.”
“I’m real,” said Rachelle. “I’m real. I promise.” She wondered what had happened in the past few hours; he looked nearly at the edge of his endurance. If only she had been able to get him out instead of running straight into Erec’s trap.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You?” He laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry. I’ve done everything wrong. First the coup, then giving in when they wanted to raise the Forest. Now everyone’s trapped—”
“I forgive you,” she said. “And it’s all the same once the Devourer returns.”
His gaze flickered from side to side, probably checking for spies. “Did you see my candle?” he asked finally.
“Yes,” she said. “And I told the Bishop you were praying. So don’t worry. Just—when the time comes, say no for as long as you can.”
“How will that help end things?”
“I have a plan,” she said. “But I can’t tell you the rest.”
“Because I wouldn’t like it or because it wouldn’t be safe for me to know?”
“Because I need you to trust me,” said Rachelle, her stomach knotting. She knew this was a betrayal, but he would accept the Devourer this instant before he let her take his place. “Can you trust me?”
“I do,” he said. “If we somehow live through this—”
“Armand.” Her voice felt thick and sticky in her throat. She couldn’t tell him, but she couldn’t let him believe— “You have to understand. Whatever happens tonight—I don’t think you’ll get to keep me.”
He pressed his lips together. When he spoke again, his voice was tightly controlled. “You said you had a plan. Is there a chance we could survive?”
“Yes,” she lied helplessly. “But have you forgotten already that I’m a forestborn? When we defeat the Devourer . . . I don’t know what that will mean for me.”
It was as close as she dared come to the truth.
“We don’t know what that will mean for me either. Rachelle, I’m just saying—”
“And even if I live through it, you can’t just take a demon home and keep house with her! Didn’t you ever hear the story about the Duke of Anjou and Mélusine?”
“Yes,” said Armand. “But he let go of her when she transformed, didn’t he? Whatever creature you turn into, whatever form you take, I won’t let go of you.”
“You think that holding hands can make me human? That’s idiotic. You don’t even have human hands.”
She regretted the words a moment after, but his lips only sliced into a grin. “All the better to hold you with. Since, as you keep reminding me, you aren’t even human.”
There was no reply she could make to that. So they danced. The music swayed and rocked back and forth, dragging them around in minor-key circles as light as leaves in air, as ponderous as the planets. The other dancers swirled around them, lovely and heedless as peacock feathers. Armand’s silver hand rested in hers, and that insignificant touch sent a thrill up her arms.
This is the human way, she thought. On the edge of destruction, at the end of all things, we still dance. And hope.
The music wound down to a pause. Rachelle looked around