Fortunately, not everyone is seated, which makes my entrance less noticeable. Chancellor Montauban stands near the door, talking with Duval. “I thought the regent was going to sew the king’s mouth shut if he did not stop agreeing to your concessions.”
Duval grins boyishly, and I realize how rare a sight that truly is.
The bishop is dressed in a fresh red robe and already seated at the table. His skin hangs a little looser than before, as if his close call with death has shrunk him somewhat. “It is a shame the regent was born a woman, else she would have made a fine ruler.”
Duval casts an annoyed glance his way. “The king’s sister has been a formidable enemy, whatever her sex, and I am glad she had no further advantage to add to her arsenal.”
The bishop does not so much as acknowledge me as I pass behind him to reach my chair, and it is all I can do to keep from knocking his be-damned miter off his foolish head.
“Besides,” Duval continues as he moves to take a seat at one end of the table, “in all our dealings with the regent, she has been harder than a rock and just as implacable as her father was before her. If not for the king’s sudden affection for the duchess, we would be in a much weaker position.”
“Fortunately, now all that is left for us to do is to get this marriage behind us.” Chancellor Montauban attempts to smooth over the ripples in the water. “Then most of our problems will be over.”
“Except we will have to find Duval a new hobby,” Châlons adds with a grin.
Everyone laughs—?more giddy relief than true humor. Duval shrugs good-naturedly. “It will take a while to grow accustomed to things being at ease between our two countries.”
I finally reach the far end of the table and take a seat next to Father Effram, putting as much distance between me and the bishop as I can. The old priest gives me a smile of welcome, but I busy myself adjusting my skirts, hoping Father Effram’s shrewd eyes will not see more than I wish him to.
“Shall we start?” the chancellor asks.
Duval looks around the table. “Beast was supposed to be here.”
I concentrate on not meeting Duval’s eyes. I’ve no intention of explaining that Beast is chasing after my vile brother to the entire council.
Dunois shrugs. “He was, but clearly he got waylaid. We can start and fill him in later.”
Duval begins. “The wedding is to take place in two weeks’ time at Langeais castle. King Charles has been most generous, filling our treasury with funds. We now have the ability to outfit the duchess and her escort in the full honor they deserve.”
Chancellor Montauban, who has spent the last few months trying to rattle coins from our empty treasury, leans forward and steeples his hands together. “That was very generous of them.”
“Generous?” Duval’s lips twitch in wry humor. “Or self-serving?”
The chancellor spreads his hands in a calming motion. “Come, Duval. There is no need to malign this noble gesture.”
Captain Dunois shoots the chancellor a penetrating look. “Surely you realize it was a way to ensure that the mercenaries and our troops were paid off and dispersed.”
“And thank God for that,” Duval mutters.
The mercenaries we had contracted to fight against France became more of a threat than an ally when our coffers ran dry. They came close to holding the entire city hostage for their pay. “And do not forget this noble gesture did not include allowing the duchess to rule over her own duchy,” Duval points out. “The king needed a great deal of convincing on that. He was determined to oversee it in her name.”
A spark of anger thaws some of the ice in my belly. Even a duchess—?a soon-to-be queen—?must beg for scraps at her own table.
“It required three extra pages in the betrothal contract,” the Prince of Orange adds. That same betrothal contract removes him from the line of succession. If he is bitter about that, it does not show.
Duval turns to him. “Any word from Maximilian?”
“His scouts have likely not reached him yet, but he will hear soon enough. He will be most displeased.” The prince’s words are strained, for the emperor is his liege, and his conflicting loyalties place him squarely in the jaws of a vise. “Nor can we blame him. His wife has just entered a betrothal agreement with his enemy. He will feel woefully betrayed.”
“It was a proxy marriage,” Duval is quick to remind him. “And the bishops have assured us it was not binding.”
Captain Dunois leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “If Maximilian wanted the marriage so badly, he could have sent the needed troops. The entire motive for the marriage was to gain his aid and protection in our fight against France, which he was unable to provide.” The captain’s disgruntlement matches my own, so I am happy to hear him give voice to it.
Châlons scowls and continues speaking. “He has not only lost his bride and her dowry, but his own daughter was to be queen of France. He has had two ripe plums snatched from his hand.”
His words cause something already brittle and fragile inside me to snap. “Does your cousin know you think of her as some plum to be plucked, my lord?” My voice is cold as the winter sea.
He turns to me, as if unable to believe a woman has just challenged him. But then he sees who is speaking, and if there is one thing a predator like the prince recognizes, it is another predator. His annoyance turns to circumspection, and he spreads his hands wide in a gesture of surrender. “I mean no disrespect to my cousin.”
I hold his gaze a moment longer, wishing to draw out his discomfort. It is a petty victory, but it also soothes the hot, bitter place deep inside me. Before I can release his gaze, however, the loud scrape of the door latch draws our attention.
Beast is back is my first thought, and I am filled with dismay that he will have to explain his absence before all assembled. Especially if he has dragged Pierre back with him.
But it is not Beast. It is the duchess herself who stands in the doorway. Flustered, the council leaps to their feet. The duchess is young and short of stature, but her innate nobility and regal air make her seem both taller and older than she is. That and her barely contained anger. I feel Father Effram watching me, but pretend I have eyes only for the duchess and her surprising arrival.
Her frigid gaze surveys the room, looking at every man as she goes around the table. “Why has this meeting been called without my knowledge?”
Chancellor Montauban steps forward and holds a chair out for her. “Your Grace, we are but seeing to the planning of your upcoming trip to Langeais and didn’t think you needed to be bothered with such details. Especially as you have so many other pressing matters you’re involved in.”
The duchess seats herself before turning to her brother. “Is this true?”
He gives an imperceptible shrug. “For the most part, Your Grace. We have also just received reports from our various allies, and until we knew whether they contained good news or bad, we saw no reason to burden you with them.”
“Do our allies’ reactions no longer affect me?”
Duval winces. “Of course they do.” He takes a half step toward her, and much of his formality falls away. “Please, we thought only to leave you to the pleasantries of planning a wedding rather than scheming and tactics and politics. You have been so happy this last week. We thought only to allow you to enjoy it a bit longer.”
The duchess’s face softens. In an uncharacteristically public show of sisterly affection, she places her small hand on his cheek. “I know, Gavriel, and I am thankful for all you have done and continue to do to protect me. But there is a good chance I will not be privy to council meetings in France, and I would welcome any information and knowledge we possess before embarking on my journey. Now, please be seated, all of you.”
As the others seat themselves, Duval steps into the uncomfortable silence caused by her arrival and turns back to the prince. “We understand Maximilian’s disappointment with the turn of events,” he says. “What will
his countermove be, do you think?”
“None that I have heard; however, the news went out only a handful of days ago. I am sure he will weigh all his options.”
“Given how reluctant he has been to fight France outright, we will have to hope that his views on that will continue.” Before the prince can respond, Duval turns to Captain Dunois. “What have you heard from our other allies?”
The older man shrugs. “Spain is not happy, and is making noise about a possible abduction.”
Duval’s interest turns razor sharp. “They are planning an abduction? When do they think to move?”
“No, not planning one. They speculate that the duchess has been coerced. Britain is even less happy with us, demanding immediate payment for their loan of troops, as well as implying the king has exerted some undue influence over the duchess and she is being forced into this marriage against her will.”
A sigh of annoyance escapes the duchess.
“Not so much against her will,” Duval murmurs, “but because she was out of options. However, this appears to be a recurring theme among our allies. We will have to watch carefully and quash those rumors if necessary.”
As they discuss the ways to counteract such rumors and ensure the duchess’s safety on her upcoming journey to France, it is all I can do to keep myself firmly in my chair. Where is Beast? Why is he not back yet? And then I remember it has not even been an hour. And that Pierre likely had horses waiting outside the city. I fight back an urge to pound my fist on the table and warn them that our enemy has breached our walls.
Except he is not their enemy, but mine.
And there is no guarantee any of these men will protect my sisters from him.