Igniting Darkness (His Fair Assassin 5)

I nod, then grab the shoulders of his cloak while she reaches for his booted feet, and together we drag the guard away from Beast’s cell. It is farther than I had thought, and I am out of breath and sweating when we reach it at last. Gen drops his boots, pulls her knife, and uses it to pry the bolts from the stone. That, too, takes longer than I would like, but between the two of us, it is done.

“It feels wrong to stuff him into a hole like this.”

“I know. But his soul is gone from here and will hopefully never know. Besides, it is not unlike a catacomb.”

She nods stoically, then places her arms on his shoulders and shoves while I direct his body into the drain. “Wait!” I call out, and she stops. “We don’t want to leave Beast’s knife.” I pull it out slowly, then wipe it upon the man’s cloak until it is mostly clean, and tuck it into my boot. “Okay.”

But now it is Gen’s turn to pause. “What is he holding?” His left hand is closed tight around something. Gen gently pries it open, then brings the object out into the light.

It is a gold mantle brooch. She looks up at me. “This belongs to the general.”

“The gods have not yet determined the ending to this story,” I mutter. “Leave it. If the body is found, it will point to the general.”

* * *

Once Gen has left, I check the area in front of Beast’s cell one more time for any signs of what has transpired. When I am assured we have erased anything that can be used against Beast, I finally approach his door.

His heartbeat has returned to its slow, steady rhythm, but even though he was gripped by battle lust, I know he will be aware of all that transpired.

Be aware and feel the weight of it on his soul.

When I reach the door, I peer in through the small grate. Only the faintest bit of light reaches inside, and I can just make out his silhouette sitting on the lone wooden bench, his head in his hands.

“It is taken care of,” I tell him.

He looks up at the sound of my voice but does not stand. “I thought you had left.”

“We were simply hiding the body.”

“The man is dead.” The words feel like boulders dragged up from the depths of Beast’s heart.

“Yes. And blessed, and his soul released with as much grace as two of Death’s handmaidens possess. He knows how grateful we are to him.”

“I did not ask him to sacrifice his life.” It is anguish I hear in his voice, not anger.

“Of course not, but you are not the only one to whom honor means something. Other men are allowed to defend it as well.”

He inhales sharply, then rises from the bench.

“We will find a way to use this against Cassel. At some point,” I say. “But for now, with so much stacked against us, we must use this to our advantage. He plans to blame it on you, but there is no body to be found. No weapon. He cannot push too hard, or he will reveal his own hand in this.”

Beast comes to peer out the grate, seeing with his own eyes that the horror that just transpired is nowhere in sight.

“He plans to blame it on the beast within you. So let us go with that. Do not come to the door when the guards approach. Make them shove your food inside. Do not talk with anyone. Roar or growl once in a while, if need be. Especially if the general approaches alone.” I do not want the man near Beast, and if playing a beast helps ensure that, then we will embrace it.

“I am not afraid of him.”

“Nor am I.”

He reaches for the bars of his window. “You should be.” His voice is low and thrumming with despair. “He all but threatened you. He knows I care for you and all but threatened you. He is not one to let a weakness go unprobed.”

“I grew up around men like him and am well aware what he is capable of. Although I will forgive you for forgetting, given the day you’ve had.”

He huffs out a half snort that could be laughter.

“The general’s actions have just lit the cannon’s fuse. We will have to move fast, and so we will. I don’t know how yet, but we will get you out of here. And soon.”

I grasp his fingers through the grate and give them a squeeze. “And, Beast? Do not ever—and I mean ever—claim that you are the monster your father is. Surely even you can see how false that is now that he has exposed his true nature.”

Then I force myself to let go and step away from the door. I will be of no use to him if I sit here weeping for all that he has had to endure.

Chapter 65

When I have finished telling the queen everything we have learned over the last two days, from the regent’s ultimatum to General Cassel’s horrifying fascination with Beast, she lifts a trembling hand to her brow, as if to rub away the weight of all these revelations. In truth, she has aged at least ten years during the telling of it.

She takes a deep breath before speaking, “Please tell me you have a plan for protecting Beast from any more interference from the general.”

The question is like a thorn in my heart. “Not yet, Your Majesty. I have counseled Beast to remain deep within his cell and not come to the door unless they drag him bodily, but other than that, we are somewhat limited.”

She looks hopefully at Gen, who glances down at her feet. “The king has already summoned me once, Your Majesty. It did not go well. Especially when I attempted to gently point out the flaws in both the general’s and the regent’s claims. I was, in effect, ordered to leave and not come back.”

The queen closes her eyes. “My fool husband’s pride is going to blind him to the attempted coup taking place under his nose.”

“For whatever reason,” I say slowly, “the regent is choosing to fashion this into a weapon against you rather than believe it is a credible threat. General Cassel is not inclined to believe any woman and has the king convinced that listening to you is somehow a weakness. It does not help that the truth of Beast’s absence fits so nicely into the falsehood they are trying to build.”

She snorts in disgust. “Well, it seems they’ve succeeded. If ever there was a case of cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face, surely this is it.”

“Of a certainty, I agree with you.”

“But then what am I to do?”

“Do you think the king will be more receptive once he has absorbed it all?” Gen suggests tentatively. “Perhaps if you spoke with him in private, without the general or regent nearby.”

She casts her a wry glance. “You mean in the marriage bed?”

“No! Just somewhere alone.”

The queen gives a firm shake of her head. “He has already cast me as one of the villains in this. I do not think he will listen to reason, even if I clout him on the ear with it.” She is quiet a long time. “It makes no sense. They have fought so long and so hard to possess my country, now they will let it slip so easily through their fingers.” She reaches up to rub her forehead again, as if it has begun to ache. “So all we must do is remove Genevieve from court so she cannot be used as a weapon against the king, get you someplace where Pierre and the regent cannot find you, and free Beast from prison to get him far away from the general and his disturbing interest.” She lets her hand fall into her lap.

“And find a way to clear you from these false allegations of treason,” Gen adds.

The queen throws up her hands. “May as well ask me to turn water into wine.” Then her face hardens into decisive lines. “Very well. We shall have to deal with all of this ourselves. I will tell the king that I have had Genevieve sent away from court, no longer wishing to bear the burden of her company.”

“My lady,” Gen says, stricken, “I would ask you not draw the king’s wrath to yourself for my sake.”

“It is too late for that now,” she says dryly. “Although this is not of your doing.”

“While I agree with the need to get Genevieve away from the regent,” I say softly, “I do not think it is wise for me to leave you.”

“We have no choice. And as wroth as the king might be with me, he will do nothing to harm the babe, so I am at least safe until it is born.”

“But what if—”

“Furthermore, Heloise and Elsibet will both be here. I shall be safe. Far safer than my people who are about to have war brought down upon their heads.”

I decide to put aside my arguments for the moment. “What are you proposing, exactly?”

She straightens and casts her gaze toward the fire in the hearth. “I am queen. In spite of my husband’s obstinacy, by our marriage contract, I have authority over Brittany. I am proposing that I exercise it. We must prove the rebellion is real. We must show the king how blinded the regent is by her own scheming and dislike of me—so much so that she is willing to ignore a credible threat to France. If we can do that, we should be able to loosen the regent’s renewed influence on the king, clear Beast of the accusations against him, and prove me innocent of this ridiculous idea that I have betrayed my husband.” She pauses long enough to take a breath. “You are all going to Brittany to put down the rebellion. That is the only thing that will achieve all of those objectives.”