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Courting Darkness (His Fair Assassin 4)

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Aeva peers at me. “Are you all right? I will find them all. You needn’t worry.”

I stare at the other woman. Should I tell her of the assassination attempt and this newest discovery?

I know it is the smart thing to do. She could easily be a target as well—?simply for being with me. That is what finally forces me to tell her.

When I have finished, she grimly shakes her head. “I cannot decide if trouble seeks you out or you merely attract it to yourself as the moon attracts a moth.”

“I do not seek it out,” I protest. But she has already ridden ahead.

She finds two more traps and one snare before we finally clear the forest. I do not bother to thank her, as my openmouthed awe at her skill is gift enough for her.

* * *

When we reach the princess’s castle, Aeva waits in the nearby trees as I silently make my way to the palace walls. Marguerite’s bedchamber is likely near the solar—?the room placed to receive the most sunlight and therefore having the largest window. I find that large window, with a smaller one on either side of it. I pick the right side, as it is in a corner with a chimney and the most promising spot, then quickly begin scaling the wall.

When I reach the window, I slip my knife in between the two panels of glass, gently lift the latch, and push one of the panes open, praying it will not squeak.

It does not.

Inside the room, four figures sleep in cots set up on the floor near the fire, while a large canopied bed occupies the opposite wall.

I inch my way to the bed, then slowly pull back the curtains.

A young girl sits there, wide awake. “Are you here to rescue me or assassinate me?”

Her question causes the fine hairs along the back of my neck to stir. “Why would you think someone has been sent to assassinate you?”

She wraps her arms around her knees. “I do not know what to think anymore. Everything I’ve been promised has been swept aside by politics. What I once thought was certain and safe holds nothing but doubt.”

“I am acquainted with that feeling,” I mutter.

“I no longer trust any promises that have been made, not even those regarding my personal safety.”

For all that she is an indulged, pampered princess, she is not lacking in wits. “You’re wise not to trust anyone, but I am not here to kill you. I wished only to see you with my own eyes and ascertain whether you were safe.”

Intrigued, she scoots herself to sit up against her pillow. “Who are you?”

“I am no enemy, that I promise. I am merely trying to untangle an ugly knot of truth and lies.”

“It’s too bad you wear that hood so I cannot better determine your sincerity.”

“It is too bad,” I agree. “But I cannot risk being recognized later.”

She puts her finger to her chin and studies me. “Have you been sent to rescue me? I must admit, I was expecting a troop of mounted knights with my father at their head, but you will do.”

It is all I can do to keep from smiling. “Do you need rescuing?”

She makes a delicate sound that in anyone else I would call a snort. “It has been well over a month since my betrothal was cast aside like day-old bread. I do not want to molder away in this castle forever.”

“Has the king or regent indicated they have planned such a thing for you?”

“The king? No.”

“But the regent has?”

She shrugs. “I have not spoken to her since she bid me goodbye nearly two months ago. She has not shared her plans with me.”

And there is one of the answers I came looking for. “But you have spoken to the king?”

She settles back against the head of her bed, making herself comfortable. “Yes. He feels guilty. Not just for breaking our betrothal agreement,” she explains. “But for his claims of love and devotion that have turned out to be as meaningful as dust.”

It would be easier to feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so clearly sharp and full of wit. I am not sure that she hasn’t received the better end of that bargain. Even so, I am sorry for the pain that Arduinna’s arrow caused her, for all that it must be weighed against the cost of war. “Do you find it odd that the regent has not been to see you?”

She purses her mouth, thinking. “She has always treated me with great affection. A daughter could not have asked for a better mother. But now, now I do not know.” It is the first time I hear a note of true loss and confusion in her voice. She feels more betrayed by the regent than the king, I think.

“The regent has always been a complex woman.” I turn and look at the princess’s attendants, sleeping on their cots. “Did you know she often bribes the closest associates of her enemies? How long have your ladies in waiting been with you?”

“Why? Do you think one of them could be spying for the regent?”

“It is possible.” But that is not my reason for the question.

She turns her gaze toward the sleeping women. “Two of them came with me from Austria, and two I chose myself from among the regent’s ladies.”

My heart quickens at that possibility. “Why did you pick them?”

“One lacked the power of speech or the ability to write. The regent used her lessons with the younger women to shame her, and I thought it poorly done.”

My admiration for her grows.

“The second one found the constrictions the regent placed upon her to be too confining. Not that she was ever improper,” the princess hurries to add. “She was simply too full of life for someone as dour as the regent.” After a moment of silence, she adds. “Another girl, Margot, was the same way.”

Everything inside me grows still. When I speak, I am careful that my voice does not change. “Margot? Is she still with the regent?”

“No, she and Genevieve were sent with Louise when she married. Although I must confess, I feel sorry for them because Louise is every bit as serious and pious as the regent.”

“Where was Pious Louise sent?” I ask.

“She married Count Angoulême and now resides in Cognac.”

Cognac. Over a hundred miles away. My limbs grow heavy with disappointment. That is it, then. They are both too far away to be of any help.

“So,” Marguerite continues, “while it is possible the regent could have one of my ladies spying for her, I don’t believe she does. Besides, I have no secrets from her. Well,” she amends. “Except you. You are my first secret.” She hugs her knees. “A most delicious one.”

“Thank you for all that you have shared. You owed me none of these explanations.”

She looks up at me, and for all of her intelligence and wit, I am struck by how young she is. “With all that has happened in the last weeks, not one person has asked me what I think or what my opinion on the matter was. You are the first to ask.”

A slow familiar anger fills me. A young woman to be plucked or snatched or tucked away at anyone’s whim. “Well, Princess, I am most grateful for all that you have shared. And while I can make no promises, if I am ever in a position to help in any way, I will do my utmost to see that I can.”

Now she is the one to look surprised. “Thank you, but why would you do that?”

“Because you are not a plum,” I whisper. While she is still gaping at my answer, I take my leave.

Chapter 73

Genevieve

n the dark, it is hard to make out anything except that there are five of them. And they are large and well armed. My sword lies on the floor next to me, but I do not reach for it. Not yet.

The tallest one speaks first. “You owe us three lives.” His words are shaped by the same Burgundy accent as the men we killed.

“We owe you nothing.” Maraud’s voice is hard as flint. “We defended ourselves against an attack.”

“We got here first. You trespassed on our shelter for the night.”

“But when we arrived,” I point out, “the whole town was empty.”

After a moment of astonished silence, f

ive heads turn to stare at me. “You are a woman!”

“Who killed two of your men,” Maraud reminds them. “So do not underestimate her.”

“As we searched the village,” I continue, “you made no move to show yourselves or stake your claim. How were we to know?”

The man shifts. In the dark, he is impossible to read. “We could not risk showing ourselves until we knew your purpose here.”

Maraud scoffs. “Purpose? We wanted shelter for the night. What other purpose would we have? And as I told your other men, there were plenty of cottages for all of us. They chose to attack instead. You cannot fault us for defending ourselves.”

“No, but you did not have to be so very good at it,” a man in the back complains. “There were three of them.”



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