Élise lifted her chin and pushed back her hair. “Then we fight.”

“We fight,” I echoed, my eyes picking up the movements of those who had crept back to see what sort of damage my mother had inflicted. This conversation could not go on much longer.

“What about Cécile?” Élise lowered her voice, having noticed our watchers as well.

“She’s far from powerless, and if anyone can discover a way to find Anushka, it will be her.” My stomach clenched at the words, and I desperately wished keeping her safe were a possibility. Only I knew that even if it were, Cécile would never stand for being kept out of danger while her friends were in the thick of it. “We have to trust that she will hold up her end, and focus on holding up ours.”

“Let her fight the human problem while we combat ours?”

I gave her a tight smile. “Exactly.”

A half-dozen of my father’s guards were coming through the rubble, their expressions grim. Élise saw them too. “The King was already on his way to find your mother when I encountered him, but I’m certain he was coming from his study.”

“We need to find out who he was with,” I murmured.

“Or if he received a letter. He does not usually allow anyone in his private chambers.”

“A valid point.” We were running out of time. “Can you do it?”

“I can try.” She started to rise, wisely deciding she should be away before the guards were upon us.

“Will you do something for me, Élise?” I asked before she could go. At her nod, I reached down to pick up the still warm manacles lying in the rubble. I gave her a forced smile. “You can consider it revenge for what I did to you and your sister.”

She recoiled back a pace. “Even if I desired revenge upon you, this wouldn’t be it.”

“A favor, then?” My bare hands began to itch where they touched the metal, and it took a concerted effort not to drop them. “Because if you don’t do it, one of them will. And I daresay, they won’t be half as gentle about it.”

Élise clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. “Fine. I already know what I want from you in exchange.”

“Anything.”

“When you are king, I want you to change the laws so that half-bloods can be bonded. To… to anyone they choose.”

Such a small request, in the scheme of things, but when one had lived a life enslaved, even small victories mattered. “If I make it that far, I will see it done.”

“Thank you.” She took the manacles from my hands. “Are you ready?”

I laughed. “No.” But I held out my arms anyway. My father had made his move, and soon, I would make mine.

Let the games begin.

Nineteen

Cécile

Fleur’s hooves made little crunching sounds as they punched through the ice-coated puddles of the muddy streets. I’d sneaked silently out of the house at dawn, running all the way to the stables to meet Chris.

Now, I was glad that I’d let him convince me go by horse to see Catherine that morning. Pigalle was always dangerous, but it felt even more so now that I was caught between opposing forces, both of whom were watching me closely via their agents. The King’s messenger, I knew, would be keeping tabs on my progress; but now that I was nearly certain that Marie was in league with Anushka, I expected her to try to stymie me at every turn. Which begged the question: Why hadn’t she tried to kill me yet? Unfortunately, even a night of lying awake thinking had yielded no answers.

Sliding off Fleur’s back once we reached Catherine’s shop, I looked up at Chris. “You’ll be back in an hour?”

He nodded. “Don’t even think of leaving without me.” Wheeling the mare around, he started down the street at a brisk canter. I watched him ride out of sight, then I knocked once and entered.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” Reaching past me, Catherine turned the bolt. “Let’s not have a repeat of last time.”

I followed after her, careful not to step on the little dog who insisted on sniffing the hem of my skirt. “You’re much quieter this time,” I said to him, patting his head.

“He only barks at strangers.” Catherine moved silently through her shop, collecting bits of herb, bark, and bone in a plain cooking pot. Holding a bit of kindling to the fire, she carried all the materials to the front of the shop. Sitting on the floor with the pot on her knees, Catherine closed her eyes, mouthing a series of words. Then she dropped the flaming bit of wood into the mixture. Green fire flared up into the air, and she repeated the words one last time.

“What was that spell?” I asked.

Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Something to repel. Anyone who comes near will believe he smells something unbearably repugnant – the bone was from a skunk. It won’t drive away anyone very determined, but neither will it raise the suspicion of magic.”

I wanted to ask her to teach it to me – to fill my head with all these little spells that I might one day find myself needing. But there were more important questions that needed answering.

She puttered around the shop, adjusting bottles and arranging papers. She was nervous, I thought, but who wouldn’t be in her situation? I was half-surprised she hadn’t fled the city, but then again, maybe she couldn’t afford to. Judging from the threadbare hem of her dress – the same she wore the last time we met – she had little money to spare. This shop and its contents might well be all she had, and giving that up, even if her life was at risk, was no small thing.