Remy gulped at his coffee. “I don’t think she’d care. She’s done with me.”
“Trust me, she’d care.”
Remy gave him a penetrating look. “You’d say anything to make me agree.”
Guillame shrugged. “How did she feel about Coralie?”
Remy set down his coffee and picked up another pastry. He turned it this way and that. “Well, she might have been a bit jealous at one point, but she ceased feeling anything towards me once you showed back up in her life.”
“Oh, yes, that’s true,” Guillame sarcastically. “That’s why she spread her legs for you two seconds after you tried to strangle her.”
Remy turned to him. “She told you that? Does she tend to describe everything that passes between us to you in excruciating detail?”
Guillame was too angry to talk. He snatched up some bread and began smearing cheese spread on it.
“You know, I never would have hurt her,” said Remy. “I thought maybe… but it would kill me to hurt her. I don’t know why I went after her at all. I think about it sometimes, what I could have done differently, how I could have kept her from—”
“Don’t,” said Guillame, stabbing a knife into the tub of cheese spread.
Remy picked his coffee back up. “It was wrong of me to have done that to her. I don’t have excuses. She just makes me insane.”
“Please, I mean it. Cease speaking of this.”
“You brought it up,” said Remy mildly.
“She would care if you were married to Coralie,” said Guillame. “Trust me on this.”
“You assume I want her to suffer,” said Remy.
“I want her to suffer,” said Guillame. “Maybe I’d try to strangle her too if I thought she’d let me get by with it. She always wanted that sort of thing from you. I was supposed to be the affable, light one. The one who was unruffled and eager and like a panting dog with my tongue hanging out.”
Remy furrowed his brow.
“Never mind,” said Guillame. “Listen, what do heirs really matter? We act as though children are some extension of ourselves, but the truth is, that when this child is on the throne, you’ll be dead, and you won’t care. All you want is to conquer the world. You’re setting off for Rzymn soon enough, aren’t you? Think of having the question of marriage settled. No more fiefs thrusting their daughters at you. No more pressure on that front. It’s all taken care of and you can go and do what you truly want, which is to take over all the other kingdoms. It’s what you’ve been dreaming of your entire life, Remy. You don’t care about anything else, and we both know it.”
Remy took a thoughtful drink of coffee. “When did I give you the impression you could call me by my first name?”
“Well, I have seen what’s under your trousers.” Guillame arched an eyebrow. “Very nice, by the way.”
Remy coughed. “You…” He shook his head. “You’re some kind of… I can’t believe you actually have me considering this.”
Guillame sat up straight, feeling proud of himself. His head pulsed at him, and he groaned a little. “It’s not a bad deal, Your Highness. You must see that.
“Now I’m ‘Your Highness’?” Remy laughed. “Out of one side of your mouth, you say children aren’t extensions of us, but what motivation do you have for doing this except the fact it’s your brat growing in her belly? You hate her as much as I do.”
“I don’t hate her,” said Guillame. “I… sometimes, I feel sorry for her.”
“Yes,” Remy said quietly. “I suppose I do too. And it would be a bit poetic, after all. After what I put her through. And maybe it was once true, that she was carrying my child. So… it might quiet some noisy parts of my conscience. There are things to weigh about your proposition.”
“You’re going to do it,” said Guillame, smiling.
“You’re despicable, Dubois,” said Remy, shaking his head at him. This time, it sounded like a compliment.
So Guillame winked at him and said, “Thank you, my king.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Now, everyone in my court knew of my pregnancy, and I was happy of the Islaigne traditions, because none of the people from Islaigne asked any questions about who the father of the baby was, and I was relieved.
Marguerite, born and raised in Dumonte, had spoken of nothing else. At first she assumed Guillame was responsible, and she was horrified that he was leaving. I had to explain to her that wasn’t the case, and then she seemed to think I’d been taken advantage of by Remy.
“After all, when last we saw him, you were trying to kill him,” she said. “Certainly, you didn’t welcome him back into your bed.”
I blushed.
“Oh,” she said, blinking at me, confused.
“Let’s never speak of this again,” I told her.
She had agreed that she would help out with the baby when it was born. She would not be the baby’s nurse, because another woman who had recently given birth would have to do that duty, but Marguerite would be giving my baby care. I wanted it to be someone like Marguerite, someone who I trusted. I wasn’t prepared to hand my baby off to some stranger in Islaigne.
I was trying not to think about the demands of motherhood at all, however. I was fairly certain I was going to be terrible at it. I had vague memories of being a very small girl and playing with dolls, thinking fondly of the day when I would grow older and have princesses to be heirs to the throne of Islaigne.
But that was a very long time ago, and I had spent the rest of my formative years growing up with the sisters in Dumonte. I hadn’t given much thought to my future then, not in terms of having children, and I was woefully unprepared for the reality of all of this.
I hadn’t wanted to think about what to say to Guillame, and so I’d ignored that situation, and it had blown up in my face.
I probably shouldn’t ignore this situation.
But I simply couldn’t handle facing it, so ignore it I did.
Instead, when the thoughts came into my head, I began thinking of my own mother, and how much I had missed her after I left. I remembered that whenever I was around her, I felt safe and loved and I missed that.
Right then, I felt more alone than I ever had.
Losing Guillame was…
I hadn’t realized how much it would hurt me. But I wasn’t angry with him, not exactly. I supposed he’d been long suffering enough, and I knew that it was too much to expect anyone to share their lovers with others. Even in Islaigne, where queens were not demanded to be tied down to men, it wasn’t a situation typically where a queen had a group of men she was bedding all at the same time. It tended to be more serial, with occasional overlaps. I was… I didn’t know what I was.
I supposed I thought I should have it all, have whatever I wished, and I wanted them both.
No, I didn’t.
I wanted Guillame the most, because he was my rock. I relied on him. He was like family to me.
But Remy… he was… he excited me. He woke things in me. He made me feel things that Guillame never made me feel, and when I thought about him, I missed him too.
However, I brushed most of this aside as simply part of my emotions now that I was with child, because the condition made me moody. I was still feeling sick to my stomach too much of the time, but I had been told by the midwives here that it would fade soon. I was gratefully looking forward to the day that was true.
In the meantime, thoughts of my mother meant that I needed to determine what I could about Jalal and his part in her death. Since I needed to speak to Lirandet about the nature of their relationship, I went to her first.
I found her working on sewing. Since we’d all left Castle Ignis with very little but the clothes on our backs, everyone had to pitch in to create new articles of clothing, with most of us sewing for ourselves and our families. I had learned to make stitches as well, and had made myself two dresses, which were serviceable, if not exactly well made.
When I entered the room, Lirandet and the other women
all ceased speaking and turned to look at me.
I tried a smile. “I need to speak to Lirandet. Alone.”
There was a buzz of whispering as the women all gathered up their sewing and fled the room.
Lirandet looked at me with wide, worried eyes. “Has something happened? Something awful?”
I sat down next to her. “When I first arrived here, you told me that you had seen me from afar before I left Islaigne, but that I would not remember you. Is this because you knew I would expect you to be older than you actually are? I would have thought you to be about the same age as Jalal, but you are quite a bit younger than he is, aren’t you?”
She swallowed. “That’s not why I said it. I just never thought that the princess would notice someone like me.”
“Listen, I… are you happy with Jalal? Are you with him willingly? Has he coerced you in any way?”
She gave me wide, wide eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Just… he isn’t forcing you to be with him?”
She was quiet.
I made my voice soft. “Listen, if he is, and you don’t feel as if you want to talk about it now, you can tell me any time you wish. Or you can write it down. Or… there is no reason to be ashamed of it. If you’re unhappy, I wish to know.”
“Why are you asking me questions like this?”
“I suppose I’m unsure about the nature of my cousin’s character. It’s come to my attention that you were very young when he took you as a consort.”
“I wasn’t so young,” she said. “I was pleased to be selected. He was the king, after all. It was an honor.”
“And he treats you well. He doesn’t force you into, uh, perversions, activities that you find abhorrent.”
“No,” she said, drawing back. “Of course not.”
I surveyed her. If she did truly enjoy her roleplaying games with Jalal in the bedroom, then I would embarrass us both by pressing the issue. If she didn’t enjoy them, she was obviously not ready to talk about it yet. I could do nothing else.
“What made you want to question Jalal’s character?”
“I have reason to believe he is, um, aroused by, er, youth,” I said. “If that led him to abuse you—”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, he’s not like that. He, um…” She blushed. “He needs his release, I suppose, but who doesn’t. It has always been very stressful for him to rule the country. He’s much more relaxed now that you’re here. He’s relieved not to have the responsibility.”
That confused me. If he had killed my mother, what was his motive? I hesitated, and then I just came out with it, “Did he ever talk to you about my mother?”
“What do you mean? Of course. He spoke of her often.”
“Did he ever tell you about seeing her after the night of the fires?”
“No one saw her after the night of the fires.” But Lirandet wasn’t looking at me, and I didn’t believe her.
“What did he tell you?” I said.
“Nothing,” she said, and she got to her feet.
“Please, I need to know,” I said.
“Your mother went crazy,” said Lirandet. “She betrayed her own kingdom.”
“What?” I got to my feet too.
“Oh, I can’t talk to you about this,” said Lirandet, gathering up her sewing. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me.” She ran out of the room.
I watched her go, furrowing my brow.
* * *
Later that evening, I was dining alone, because the food that was prepared for everyone else tended to make my nausea worse, when there was a knock at my door.
I answered it myself. Even if we weren’t away from the castle and under duress, there wouldn’t be servants for that sort of thing in Islaigne.
Jalal was standing there.
“Jalal,” I said.
“What are you saying to Lirandet?” he said.
I sighed. “So, she’s told you about that, has she?”
“May I come in?” said Jalal.
I moved away from the door. “Listen, your sex life is your own business as long as no one is getting hurt, and—”
“What are you talking about?” He made a face at me.
“Well, when I spoke to Lirandet…” I shook my head. “Why don’t you tell me what you’d like to speak to me about?”
“She said that you asked her about seeing your mother that night,” said Jalal. “You said something about that before, once, when we were at dinner together. Why do you keep harping on this? I hate to tell you, but your mother is gone forever. You must accept this. Believe me, I know how it feels. I lost my mother as well that night. It was devastating, the destruction that was wrought.”
“I don’t think my mother is alive,” I said. “But I have two pieces of evidence that point to something I don’t understand. One is that you are in possession of my mother’s bracelet.”
“What?”
“The one with the blue stone,” I said. “She was wearing it when she pushed me onto that ship to send me away during the fires. You say you never saw her again. So, how did you get the bracelet?”
“Well, I didn’t take it from her. It was amongst her possessions.”
“She never took it off.”
“She must have, because I found it. It was in her rooms, along with the crown and other things that I took when I became the king.”
“There’s also the matter of a witness seeing you with my mother a week after the fires. She came in on a boat. You met her at the docks. Then you ducked behind some trees and you were the only one whoever came up to the castle.”
Blood drained out of his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, well, I don’t believe you,” I said.
“No witness could have seen that, because it didn’t happen,” he said, and he was agitated, his breath coming out in noisy gasps.
“Did you kill my mother?”
“Of course not!”
“Did you want the throne?”
“No, I never wanted the throne. There was no one else, don’t you understand? Everyone was dead or on that ship. I had to step up. The people needed a leader. They needed someone. They wanted me. I was blood. I was all that was left of the line. I did what I had to do, and I would have been so happy for your mother to be there, for someone else to have shouldered the responsibility.”
I eyed him. I didn’t know what to believe.
“You… whoever told you this was lying, Fleur.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “You seem to be pretty excited.”
“Because I’ve been wrongly accused,” he protested. “Are you going to have me executed?”
“Should I? Is that what you deserve?”
“No, I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “Please.”
I shook my head. Well, we were just going round and round here. I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. Maybe if I could have Solene ask around. Maybe if someone else had seen what she had seen that night, maybe that might shed light on what had happened.
“Fleur, you have to believe me,” he said. “I would never do something like that. How could I have done it? She was powerful. She had magic. I would never have been able to—”
“That’s enough,” I said. “I will get to the bottom of this, Jalal. But for now, you may go. And I’m not placing you under arrest or planning your execution. Not yet, anyway.”
“I never saw your mother again. I swear,” he said.
“Leave me, Jalal,” I said. “Get out of my rooms. Now.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Well,” Marguerite was saying, “when we go back to the new castle, then we’ll have rooms near the queen’s, and I’ll be able to help out when the baby is crying in the middle of the night.”
Marguerite and Bisset were with me in my makeshift throne room. We were looking at a set of plans for the new castle. As soon as I had decided which design was going to be used, we would begin construction
.
“Oh, well, that sounds just wonderful,” said Bisset a little dryly.
I gave him a smile. “I really am grateful for Marguerite. I need her. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“I know, and she’s excited,” said Bisset, eyeing her sidelong.
“Djonn is afraid of babies,” said Marguerite teasingly.
“I’m not afraid,” said Bisset. “What’s to be afraid of? They’re very small. But Marguerite and I are not even married—”
“Surely, you’re as good as married,” I said.
“We’ve had no ceremony, no license,” said Bisset. “There aren’t any members of the Order here to conduct the marriage.”
“Well, we have marriages in Islaigne,” I said. “If you wish to be married, then we must have a wedding. I think I would like that very much.”
“Even so,” said Bisset. “There is no need to rush into having children.”
“There, you see,” said Marguerite. “He is afraid.”
Bisset sighed, shaking his head at her.
“He is very, very careful to avoid ever possibly taking a chance that I could conceive.”
“Marguerite, please, don’t share these sorts of things with the queen.” Bisset looked embarrassed.
“All right, fine,” said Marguerite. “I shall tell her when you are not present, then.”
“No, please don’t,” said Bisset.
“It’s quite all right,” I said. “You should be grateful, Marguerite. Would that I had a lover who was so careful.” I put my hand to my belly ruefully. I could tell that there was a small swell there, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.
“Oh, don’t say that,” said Marguerite. “The news of your babe is wonderful, and you are overjoyed about it.”
“I think that’s putting it a bit strongly,” I said. “That’s why I need you so badly, Marguerite. And Bisset, if you liked babies, I would be grateful for that. I know that babies need to be loved, and I am very frightened I’m not going to be able to do that properly.”
Marguerite scoffed. “All mothers love their children.”
I shook my head. “If Ophelie had a baby, would it magically make her love it?”
Throne Shaker (The Clash and the Heat Book 3) Page 9