Élise looked up at the roof, her face filled with a mix of emotion too complex to pick apart. “I’ll distract them. Give me your cloak.”

“You can’t! If they think you’re me, they’ll kill you.”

She shook her head. “The Duke will want to catch you first – and once they realize it’s me, they’ll let me go. I belong to the Queen and the Duchesse – no one will dare harm me.”

I didn’t want her to do it. I’d already lost Pierre today, and the thought of risking another friend’s life made me grit my teeth. But her logic was sound, and there was no other choice.

“We need to get you out of here alive,” she whispered. “Your husband owes me a favor, and I can’t collect on it if he’s dead.”

Reluctantly, I slid off my cloak and handed it to her. “Please be careful.”

“You too.” There were questions in her eyes – things I knew she wanted to ask. But we had no time. Pulling the hood up so that it obscured her face, she hugged me hard. “Go through this property – there is a gate at the rear.”

Then she was gone.

I stood frozen, part of me unwilling to leave her to our enemies. But that part of me was a fool, because Élise had given me the only chance I had. So I began to pick my way through the dark garden, moving as silently as I could to avoid detection from whatever trolls lived within. The gate in the wall was barely visible in the ambient light of the house and street lamps, and I was closing my fingers on the latch when I heard screams tear through the air. “Élise!” Her name forced its way through my lips, but I didn’t turn back.

Flinging open the gate, I ran. Ahead was the narrow pathway leading up to the perimeter, and I sprinted toward it, my boots slapping hard against the stones of the street. They were coming. I could hear them coming. The pathway seemed endless, the rocks marking the boundary of Trollus impossibly far away.

Then I was there. Skidding on the tiny fallen pebbles, I ran next to the stacked boulders of rock, my eyes fixed on the faint glow of the ropes of magic waiting for me.

“There she is!”

Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw two of the Duke’s guards come out of the pathway. It would take them a bit of time to cover the distance on foot, but I knew their magic would span the distance in seconds. Flinging myself forward, I closed my hand around the glowing ropes. Tristanthysium, get me out!

Magic closed around me like a cage, lifting me up off the ground and into the sky. Blows slammed against the shield protecting me, silver light exploding all around in sparks. Gone was slowness and stealth, and my stomach lurched as I was jerked across the cavern, the force holding me against the floor of my invisible bubble so that I couldn’t move. I was helpless and in full view of countless trolls who wanted to see me dead.

Then sunlight was burning in my eyes.

“Cécile!”

Tristan caught me against him, stumbling back. “You’re covered in blood. Are you hurt?”

I knew logically his face was inches from mine, but he seemed far away, his voice distant. Like I was watching him search another girl for injuries, for the source of all the blood. My hands were sticky with it. Soaked in it.

“Anushka’s going to kill my mother tomorrow night.” I heard the words, but I couldn’t feel my lips forming them. “Roland’s going to kill your father. Angoulême has Élise. And Pierre…” I fell back into myself, shock receding and leaving a world of hurt in its wake. “Pierre is dead.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I buried my face in Tristan’s chest.

And I wept.

Forty-Six

Tristan

I watched Cécile ride somewhat ahead of me, her shoulders slumped beneath the bulk of my coat. What she’d told me seconds after I’d pulled her out had put my head in a spin, but she’d dissolved into hysterics seconds later, so I’d had to wait until I’d carried her off the rocks and calmed her down enough to extract more details. After she’d told me everything, she’d gone quiet. Numb.

And that made me wish for the tears to come back, because at least those were normal for her. I could wipe them away and know she’d be herself soon enough. But seeing her like this, her dull and empty eyes a reflection of what I felt in my head, made me afraid that she’d finally been pushed too far.

That fear had made me want to take her somewhere safe, and before I’d known what I was saying, I’d asked her which way to take to get to her family’s farm. Now we were on the road to Goshawk’s Hollow, and despite there being countless reasons we needed to be back in Trianon, I knew it was the correct decision. She needed time to recover.

And so did I.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shove the pain of Pierre’s death from the forefront of my thoughts. I’d known him all my life, and while I’d never burdened him as a confidant, he’d been my friend. My mentor in matters that had nothing to do with politics. I remembered the first time I’d met him. My father had led me by the hand through the city, stopping in front of Pierre’s door and kneeling down to speak with me.

“Tristan, Pierre is the most intelligent and learned troll I know. I want you to listen to the things he says and to learn from him, do you understand?”

I blinked away the vision of my father’s face and shivered against the cold wind cutting through the thin cloth of my shirt. The Dowager Duchesse’s words troubled me deeply. Trump card. Trump card. The word repeated in my head, and I knew it could refer to only one thing: Anushka’s identity. Angoulême knew who she was, and once my father and I were dead, he intended to use the information to secure his power.