“But,” the king continues, “there is no legal precedent for a woman, an unwed woman, no less, to have custody of children. Not only is there no precedent, I am not certain it would be legal, even if I decreed such a thing. For I would, my lady.” His countenance grows earnest. “If ever anyone has proved their care and devotion to their siblings, it is you. However, even a king cannot change every law to his own liking.” My sinking heart must show on my face. “Do not despair. I think I have come up with what I hope is an agreeable solution.”
I wait, relatively certain the king’s perception of agreeable and mine will differ greatly.
“If you were married, my lady, I could then grant custody to your husband. And if, say, your husband was also related to one of the children, the legal claim would be even stronger.”
Because it is precisely what Beast and I wish for, I must clarify. “So you are saying if I marry, my husband will be granted custody of my sisters.”
“Which,” the king hurries to add, “if you choose your husband wisely, he will in turn trust you in those matters.”
I glance over at the queen who, instead of watching the proceedings with her usual sharp interest, is studying the rings on her fingers as if they have suddenly sprouted wings. I take a deep breath and look at Beast. “I do seem to remember making a promise to you along those lines, did I not, Sir Waroch?”
He nods solemnly. “You did, my lady. All it wanted was permission from our liege for us to proceed.”
“You did not put him up to this, did you?” I murmur.
He gives a quick shake of his head. “Not I.”
The queen clears her throat just then. “Is there a problem, Lady Sybella?” Although her face tries to arrange itself in stern lines, the twinkle in her eyes gives her away.
“No, Your Majesty. There is no problem at all.” I turn back to the king. “I will gladly accept these terms of custody, Your Majesty. And thank you for finding a way to maneuver such a decision through the twists of the law.”
“It is truly the least I could do,” he says, most graciously.
Beast’s smile of joy shifts suddenly to one tinged with faint horror. As I arch an inquiring eyebrow at him, he says, “This means I will have to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”
Chapter 121
Genevieve
Maraud is waiting for me outside the chamber, his tall, broad form outlined by the light of the oriel window. He turns at my approach, his fingers playing with the gold chain about his neck, his eyes filled with admiration and warmth. “It appears you and I are to be stuck with chains around our necks for all our lives.”
“I am sure we will manage,” I say as I draw alongside him.
He looks back outside, at the Loire river that runs by and the fields of green grass beyond that. “So now what?” he asks. “Are those of us who serve in the Order of the Nine allowed to . . . consort . . . with one another?”
“I should hope so. I am hoping it gives us the right to do whatever we please. Besides, I should like to see the king try to keep Beast and Sybella apart. Not to mention that he consorts with the queen.”
“And what would you do, Gen, with the right to do whatever you pleased?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I want . . . to live, and explore, and see new things. I want to line the world up before me, examine what it has to offer, and choose.”
He continues to stare out the window. “Choice is a wonderful thing,” he says. “As is exploring. Would you care for company on these explorations of yours?”
And of course, he is the first one to offer me a choice in this new life of mine. I reach out and take his hand, surprising him. “I would love company. Most especially your company, if you are offering it.”
“I wouldn’t say so much offering it as throwing it at your feet,” he murmurs.
“However it comes, I welcome it gladly.”
He grins then, and I smile back. He makes a sweeping bow before extending his arm. As we begin walking away from the council chamber, he bumps my shoulder lightly with his own. “So, I must ask. Did you ever end up saving those you set out to save when you left Cognac?”
The warmth that has been building in my chest since I first heard the king speak of the Order of the Nine swells so fully that I fear my heart will burst. I turn to him and smile, smile that he would remember to ask, and smile at the answer I have to give. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
Epilogue
Sybella
I remember very little of my first trip to the convent, half mad with grief as I was. I was told they had to tie me down for fear I would hurt myself or hurl myself out of the cart.
Beast is quiet too, although for a different reason. I check to make sure the rest of our party isn’t within earshot. “He’s not going to tell you no,” I reassure him.
He shifts in his saddle, an uncomfortable gesture that is wholly unlike him. “I don’t imagine he will, but that does not make it any less harrowing—having to ask Death for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Except that he is no longer Death, but Balthazaar, Annith’s consort. Or is she his consort? I’m not sure how that works. But if he gives you any trouble, you can remind him that he must ask Maraud for Annith’s hand in marriage, since he is her sole surviving male relative. Tell him you’ll put in a good word for him.”
Beast scrubs his hand over his face. “This is all too strange for me to wrap my turnip-sized brain around.”
Ismae steers her horse closer to ours. “Has anyone thought to tell Annith of her father’s death?” she asks. “Or that we are bringing her brother to her?” She does not think to lower her voice.
“No. Some things are better relayed in person.”
“Wait.” Maraud looks around our small traveling party. “Who is Annith’s brother?”
I give Gen an accusing look. “You didn’t tell him.”
“I didn’t know!” Gen protests. “Well, barely knew, and certainly not enough to explain it to him. Besides, we did have quite a lot we were dealing with at the time.”
“Tell me what?” Maraud’s voice is guarded.
Gen draws closer to him. “That you are not the only Crunard left. You have a half sister.”
His face grows pale with emotion before he looks away.
“She was the former abbess’s daughter,” Gen explains softly.
“A handmaiden of Death? But my moth—”
“No. Your father’s daughter,” I explain. “Although neither your father nor your sister knew of it until recently.”
Since poor Maraud looks as if he has taken a pike to the head, Gen leads him away from the rest of us. He will want to process without an audience.
“Do you realize,” Father Effram says, “just how many lost and broken pieces have been put back together because of Genevieve?”
“She has done a masterful job of fixing her mistake,” I agree.
“No. I mean that if she had not made that mistake, most of this would not have happened. Maraud would still be languishing in his oubliette, you would still be locked in a custody battle with your brother, the Nine would not be openly accepted at the French court, and war would even now be raging over our land.”
“She did not stop the war,” I point out.
“No, but if she hadn’t known Maraud, freed him, we would have been caught unaware and likely lost.”
And while it is true that he might have gotten free anyway, it is hard to see how he would have ended up in a position that helped turn everything to our favor. It is miraculous how the many pieces came together, making the sum of them stronger.
“So perhaps it was never a mistake,” Father Effram continues. “But a necessary step on a long, arduous path that none of the rest of us could see.”
“Except you,” I mutter.
“Not me, but perhaps Saint Salonius had some idea.”
The road curves just then, bringing the westernmost shore into view. A half dozen figures are gathered
on the beach, with three black-sailed galleys bobbing in the ocean behind them. I had forgotten the convent even had such large boats.
“You can relax,” I tell Beast. “Balthazaar is not among them.”
“I’m not nervous,” he mutters.
As we draw closer, I see that the figure in the middle has a long blond braid resting over her shoulder. “Annith!”
Behind me, I hear a little sniff of disdain—Charlotte.
“Do you have something you wish to say?” Aeva asks her.
“No. It just seems like a big fuss over seeing each other again. That is all.”
“Are you not excited to see Louise?”
When Charlotte does not answer, Aeva continues, “And have you prepared your apology to Annith and the others for abusing their hospitality and running away?”
Leaving Charlotte to Aeva for the moment, I put my heels to my horse and race Ismae to the shore. I reach them first and leap from my mount to run to Annith, who is already moving toward me. I throw my arms around her and savor the feel of her close against my chest.