Author: Robin LaFevers
Chapter Thirty-nine
When I draw aside the curtains the next morning, the icy fingers of winter come through the glass and pinch me awake. The true season of Mortain is upon us, everything cold and barren and gray.
Behind me, the door opens and Louyse bustles in. “My lady! Come away from there before you catch your death!”
Her words bring a smile to my lips. Does she think Death is some small bird with my name written on it, beating at the window in the hope that I will catch it? “Something subdued,” I tell Louyse as she moves toward the garderobe. “I am feeling somber today. ”
“Aye, you and the whole palace,” she mutters darkly.
I turn from the window and rub some warmth back into my arms.
when she has set out the gown, I send her off to fetch a breakfast tray and hurry to dress, a plan forming as I do. My first task is to write to the abbess informing her of the attempt on the duchess’s life.
I pause partway through the letter as I realize that not once did the Privy Council discuss who might be behind the assassination attempt. At least, not in my hearing.
It cannot be d’Albret, for if Anne dies, there is no way he can become duke. France, then? Do they assume Isabeau is too weak to hold the crown?
The only one who gains by Anne’s death is France, at least as far as I can reckon. And no matter how I turn that over in my mind, I cannot reconcile it with Chancellor Crunard’s lukewarm support of Duval. Hoping the abbess will be able to shed some light on the possibilities, I finish the letter and send Vanth on his way.
with that task done, I turn my attention to the rest of the day and try to think what to do with myself. I have already oiled all my weapons, and Madame Dinan will not admit me to the solar. Besides, the Privy Council is meeting there this morning —
And then I have my plan.
With everyone in the Privy Council meeting, it is easy enough to slip into Madame Dinan’s and Marshal Rieux’s chambers unobserved. All it takes is a well-chosen moment and the twist of a needle-like blade, then I am inside. Dinan’s apartments are much like the woman herself, coldly beautiful but containing no warmth or heart. Marshal Rieux’s rooms are grand and sumptuous, which is no surprise. He seems the sort to demand luxury, not so much for his own pleasure but because it is befitting for someone of his stature. even so, his chamber holds no proof or evidence of any treacherous dealings.
That leaves only Crunard.
Fear scuttles across my shoulders at the thought of searching his rooms. He is the convent’s liaison, after all, and appears to be a great confidant of the abbess. Somehow, I doubt very much she will thank me if I expose him as a traitor.
But she is hundreds of miles away, and the young duchess is running out of options. Her needs seem more urgent than the tender sensibilities of the abbess.
I make my way back through the halls to the chancellor’s office. It is early afternoon and I fear their council may well be over. Not to mention they have no doubt discovered Duval’s absence by now. even so, I must try.
As I reach the chancellor’s door, I cast my senses out and realize he is in there. And he is not alone. Since there is no one else in the hallway, I put my ear to the door. The two male voices are close. with a start, I realize they are at the door itself. Less than a second later, it opens. I try to look surprised, my hand raised as if to knock. “Chancellor Crunard,” I say.
He scowls. “Demoiselle Rienne. what are you doing here?”
I try very hard not to look at the man Crunard is escorting out of his office. “I have come to see if you know where my lord Duval is. ” It is a bold move, but I can think of no other reason to explain my presence at his door.
“No, I do not know where he has gone,” Chancellor Crunard says. “I was going to send for you to ask the same question. ”
Unable to help myself any longer, I glance at Crunard’s visitor. It is the French envoy, Gisors. His brilliant green eyes study me intently.
Crunard follows my gaze and gives Gisors a brusque nod. “I think I have said all there is to say. ” The heat of his anger comes through clearly in his voice. Gisors’s nostrils flare, then he gives a precise bow and strides off. when he is out of sight, Crunard turns back to me. “Have you really not seen Duval today?”
“No, my lord. ” Since it is no lie, I am confident he can hear the ring of truth in my words. “I have not seen him since last night after we left the duchess’s solar. Did you not find him in his chamber?”
Crunard shakes his head. “He has not been there all day. His steward said he was gone this morning when he went in to wake him. If you see him, tell him I am looking for him, will you? Remind him that running away only makes him look more guilty. ” His eyes are cold and hard upon me and put me in mind of a bird of prey’s.
I tip my head to the side and crease my brow in puzzlement. “Guilty, my lord? Running away? I am not sure I understand you. ”
His face relaxes and he looks somewhat less fierce. “It is nothing, demoiselle. Only leftover arguments from the council meeting. That is all. ”
“Very well. ” I sink into a curtsy and then turn and head down the hall, careful to keep my steps slow and measured, as if I have nothing to hide.
when I reach my room, I quickly shut the door, then lean against it. That was a near thing.
A scratching at the window makes me jump. when I see that it is a crow, my pulse quickens in anticipation. Once I open the window, the crow waits patiently for me to remove the message.
Dearest Daughter,
I have received much information from Chancellor Crunard but very little from you, although perhaps your message is even now on its way to me.
The chancellor has informed me of the French whore’s plot to put her youngest son on the Breton throne. There is no question that this is open treason and the French whore must die.
See to it immediately.
It has been so long since I have used the name that it takes me a moment to realize the note means Madame Hivern.
The convent is ordering me to kill Duval’s mother.
Chapter Forty