At his question, the queen stares at him a moment, and I imagine all the various disappointments she is feeling.

“If I may, Your Majesty?” Beast’s deep voice rumbles into the silence.

Both the queen and king nod their heads in permission.

“The queen’s guard was appointed by the duchess and her Privy Council in order to see to her safety.”

“We have a king’s guard for that,” the king says, waving vaguely to the captain of his guard who stands a few paces behind the throne.

“While this is true, Your Majesty, the attack on our traveling party outside Angers shows that one can never be too careful when the queen’s safety is at stake. We had twenty of your men with us, brave men, most of whom gave their lives to keep her safe, but it was very nearly not enough.”

The king looks incredulous. “An attack? Upon the queen?”

Beast, the queen, all of us, are taken aback. “Has no one informed Your Majesty?”

He grips the arms of his throne. “No, they have not.” And he looks none too pleased about it.

The regent slips forward. “You’ve been so busy, sire, there has not been time to fill you in on Her Majesty’s journey.”

He considers his sister coldly. “There has not been time to fill me in on an attack on my own queen?”

This, I realize with a sharp thrill of recognition. This is the regent’s weakest link in her strategy. This blind spot the brilliant tactician cannot see from her vantage point of older sister.

And if there is a weakness, I can drive a wedge into it.

“Please, Your Majesty. It is being taken care of. The Duke of Bourbon himself is looking into the matter.”

“May I ask what he has learned?” Beast asks.

The regent does not spare him a glance and instead addresses the king. “There has been little enough to discover. The force was comprised of German mercenaries—”

“Was it Maximilian, then?”

The regent gives a single shake of her head. “Not that we have been able to confirm, sire. That is why we have had nothing to report.”

The king waves her back and turns to the queen. His cheeks are faintly flushed. “I am deeply sorry that you were endangered on your way here. I will see the attackers found and punished.”

“Thank you, my lord husband.” The queen’s cheeks also pinken, but in relief, I think, rather than embarrassment.

The king turns back to Beast. “I still do not think that warrants a separate queen’s guard. Her safety will fall to the royal bodyguard now that she is my wife.”

I watch him closely, trying to discern whether it is a surfeit of confidence that has him wanting to disband the queen’s guard or some more sinister purpose.

“I am certain Your Majesty’s bodyguards will take the queen’s safety as seriously as your own,” Beast says. “However, as king, you will travel often and she will not always be able to join you. Should she not have a guard dedicated solely to her safety? Did not the Princess Marguerite have her own guard?” he asks quietly.

It is a dangerous gamble, mentioning the princess, but it works.

“That is true,” the king says. The regent makes a move as if to speak, but the king waves her away. “Very well. The queen may retain her guard, but you will not be needed inside the palace itself. Whenever she leaves or travels, you will accompany her.”

It is not the full support that we were hoping for, but it is not an outright dismissal, either.

“Thank you, sire.” Beast bows. “I am honored to serve your queen in whatever way you see fit.”

As he steps aside, the king calls out, “Wait!” He leans forward on his throne. “Do I know you, Sir Waroch?”

Anticipation shoots through me, and I wonder if Beast realizes the implications; while the king has never seen Beast’s face before, he has no doubt seen his father’s.

Beast looks discomfited, no doubt trying to avoid mentioning the times they may have met on the battlefield. “Perhaps you saw me at Langeais?” he suggests. “I have traveled with the queen since she left Brittany.”

“No, I mean before then. Your face is familiar to me.”

I watch Beast carefully, but there is still no reaction. “No, sire. I have never had the pleasure of meeting you before today. But perhaps you caught a glimpse of me when you visited Rennes.”

That is when it hits me. Beast does not know. For whatever reason, Captain Dunois did not have an opportunity to tell him. Beast is still in the dark. I look out at the nobles around us, searching for someone as tall and broad as he, but I see no one.

“Which one of them are you planning to kill first?” I glance over to find Aeva smirking beside me.

“All of them, if I had my way.” But as soon as the words are out, I recognize them as a lie. Killing them has not once crossed my mind. I want to know their plans and intentions, and neutralize them, but I have no desire to kill them. Not even the regent.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Aeva folds her arms and leans back against the wall behind us, not minding that she is crushing the Turkish velvet wall hanging. “I said, you’d best start with the regent. Cutting off the head of a snake is the only way to kill it.”

My mouth twitches. “The followers of Arduinna have a delightful way with words.”

She lifts one broad shoulder. “I don’t trust her one bit. I don’t trust anyone h

ere.”

“Tell me, what do you think of the king?”

The corners of her mouth turn down as her gaze seeks him out. “Not much. He looks less like a king and more like a junior cleric that the rest of the clerks enjoy harrying.”

I wince at the accuracy of her description. “Can you tell if he is still under the effects of Arduinna’s arrow?” For that is at the heart of what allows us to wrest victory from defeat—?the magic in the last of Arduinna’s remaining arrows.

She tears her gaze from the king and frowns at me. “What do you mean?”

“Calm yourself, it was not meant as in disrespect, but rather a theological question.” I briefly fill her in on what I have learned about the Princess Marguerite. “And so I am trying to determine if the effects of the arrow have worn off now that we are in France. The genuine love and admiration the king displayed toward the queen in Rennes is no longer evident. Perhaps the magic only works in Brittany.”

“No,” Aeva says softly. “He loves her still, as much and in such a way that he is capable of. Arduinna’s arrow can only guarantee a person’s love. If a person’s capacity to love is meager, Arduinna’s arrow cannot fix that—?only ensure that meager love is directed toward a particular person.”

And that is precisely the answer I feared most.

Chapter 49

Genevieve

hen next I return to the dungeons, it is in the early hours of the morning before everyone else is up. Because of that, my forage through the kitchen does not yield much of a meal, but it is all I can manage at this hour. It has also occurred to me that I probably should arrange for another bath for the prisoner, but that will take a fair amount of planning and stealth and so will have to wait for a different day.

Tags: Robin LaFevers His Fair Assassin Fantasy
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