Still there was no sign of Sabine.

I ground my teeth in frustration, knowing that Genevieve’s half of the performance would soon be complete, and I was supposed to go backstage under a veil of magic to keep an eye on her while Cécile performed. But I did not want to lose track of Marie. She was the only person who knew Anushka’s identity with certainty, and I mentally weighed the risks of letting either woman out of my sight.

The final chords of music drifted through the room, and the lights dimmed. Where was Sabine?

Indecision still racking me, I began making my way through the tightly packed nobles toward the stage. My priority needed to be Genevieve, not keeping Marie within my grasp. If anything happened to Cécile’s mother because I deviated from the plan in pursuit of my own interests, she’d never forgive me. Then the choice was rendered moot as the curtains to one side parted and Genevieve stepped into the ballroom.

Fifty-Four

Cécile

The music of the first half echoed through the ballroom, an eerie and haunting accompaniment to my mother’s voice. No, not my mother’s voice: Anushka’s. I knew it was fact, but my mind seemed set on rejecting the truth, on holding me back from the actions I needed to take.

“Cécile!”

At the sound of the hissed whisper of my name, I turned between my escorts – to see Sabine standing only a few paces away. She was dressed in an elaborate evening gown, her hair pinned up and jewels hanging from her ears, and I realized she must have come with Tristan. She started toward me, but one of the guards hurried to intercept her.

“Mademoiselle de Troyes is not to be troubled until after she performs,” he said under his breath, pushing her back toward the curtain.

Sabine could warn Tristan; could keep him within the crowded ballroom until I had the chance to explain the truth to him, to temper his reaction. “I want to speak to her.”

The guard held me back, shaking his head. “After.”

Only then did I realize the music had ceased, and that the grinning courtiers vying for Lord Aiden were pouring off the stage. A hand with spiked fingertips closed over my shoulder, and I turned around to see the wicked mask hiding my mother’s face. Anushka’s face.

“Are you ready, darling?”

The King’s compulsion swiftly and violently took hold. My hands whipped up and caught hold of her wrists with a grip I hadn’t known I’d possessed. Kill her!

Anushka’s jaw tightened beneath the mask, and she tried to pull away from me. “A touch of nerves, I see.”

My mind grappled with ways I might kill her, but without a weapon, the guards would stop me before I had a chance. But they couldn’t stop Tristan. With a wicked sense of glee, I felt his name rise up in my mind, along with the vision of her dead at my feet.

But it wouldn’t end there. It would be chaos. The guards would attack Tristan, and how many would die? I needed to get her alone, and knowing that she planned to kill me tonight, that shouldn’t be hard.

I forced my hands to relax and fall away from her wrists. “Dreadfully nervous.” I swallowed. “Will you watch me, Mama? Out front where I can see you?”

With one hand, she removed the horrid mask from her face and then smiled. “Of course, dearest. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

I watched her walk to the curtain, before turning to see if there was any chance of speaking to Sabine. But there was no sign of her or the guard who had kept us apart. I prayed that she’d make her way back to Tristan, and that I could get through the next ten minutes of performance with nothing happening. Then I’d go to him, tell him the truth, and hope that…

I shoved the thought aside. Plunking my bottom down on the swing, I arranged my skirts and took a firm grip on the ropes. Then I nodded once to the men who would lift me up. The lights on the stage dimmed, music began to play and I was rising up into the air. The beam supporting the swing rotated me out onto the stage, and once they’d lowered me down a few feet, I kicked my legs to set the swing rocking gently back and forth. On my cue, I began to sing and the lamps were turned up. The audience murmured in appreciation at the stage designed to look like a paradise in the sky in blue, gold, and white.

Two throne-like chairs sat in the front and center of the crowd of nobles, and on them were seated the Regent and Lady Marie. Lord Aiden stood at his mother’s shoulder, expression grim. I let my eyes drift slowly over the room, keeping my face soft, kind, and benevolent as the skirt of my costume tickled against my bare feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mother slowly making her way along the wall, nodding and greeting those who spoke to her as she went. But where was Tristan?

I finally spotted him standing in the shadows, his eyes tracking my mother’s progress from the far side of the room. He made no move to go to her, but I felt no comfort. I was playing this too close and risking everything by keeping him in the dark, but what choice did I have? My mother reached the door at the far right of the room and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and watching. Not your mother, Anushka!

Tearing my eyes away from her, I glanced down. Below me, the courtiers came out onto the stage and began to dance an intricate pattern. The girls of my company drifted amongst them, lending their voices as harmony to my own. They twirled and danced, and I sang a song designed to be lovely and pleasing without distracting too much from the would-be wives trying to catch Lord Aiden’s attention.

The music ended, and I ceased my swinging, leaning forward slightly as though deeply intent on what my subjects were about to do. Each of the girls danced forward and named her virtue, curtseying deeply to Lord Aiden, who dutifully nodded at each of them. If I hadn’t been so blasted terrified about what was to come, the whole spectacle might have been a comedy. Except I knew one of these girls was destined to become Marie’s successor, her life dedicated to protecting the woman I was supposed to kill.