As Councilman Dubois' skin slithered from his body and fell. A sack of pale, parchment-like skin slathered upon the ground like a misshapen corpse absent bones. A puddle.
Dimitri shrieked—watching the skin fall. Pain erupting from every pore as his bones blazed beneath his skin, threatening to rip him open as they grew larger.
Dunstan Riche grinned. Clasped his hands together, “It's obvious now, isn't it?” he nodded—ignored Dimitri's serrated scream, “You aren't what you pretend to be—you may have lost things up here,” he murmured, pointing a long finger at his bald head, “but the body remembers all. And knows that—,” he shrugged, opening his arms, “your time is up.”
“Are you—are you doing this to me?!”
Dunstan Riche approached him. Lowered himself to Dimitri's height and met his eyes. Locked them, “You've done what you had to fit into this world, Avaledd, now do what you will to tear it apart.”
Dimitri's eyes flashed.
As a shrieking roar shattered the ashen sky above.
FIFTEEN
Reine
“Excuse me, Mademoiselle, but I really must get back to my patient...”
“Don't scrimp my title! Don't—don't run from me!”
White robes vanished behind a pearly gilded door.
“Get—move, Agent!”
Lucius stepped before the door, crossed his arms and shook his head, “Think the doctor made his point clear.”
Reine widened her eyes, “He avoided me! He hasn't answered any of my questions—move, Agent! That's an order!”
Lucius rolled his eyes. Winked.
Reine pressed her lips together as a hand squeezed her shoulder. Whirling around in a tornado of turquoise skirts, Reine flattened her lips against her teeth, “What.”
The narrow hallway was bright and clear. White sunlight poured through rectangular windows. Tiny specks of dust danced in the cradle of warm light.
“G-greetings, Mademoiselle Savatier. I am Doctor Horace's herbalist—,”
Reine's slipper tapped against the wooden planks of the floor, earning creaks and moans from the century old manor, “Yes? And? Can you tell me what goes on? How is my friend?”
Leafy eyes fell to the floorboards. Clutching the cotton of her threadbare overdress, the herbalist bit her lip, “Mademoiselle, I...”
“Talk! Talk! Tell me, girl!”
The woman gasped, brought her gaze to Lucius. Who shrugged, “Well, I...” she lifted her gaze, “...Doctor Horace has patched up her side and cleaned the wounds on her arm. But she's succumbed to a fever that only climbs higher...and everything we give her—she either fights it or outright refuses it. The doctor is growing...” she bit her lip again. Huffed and lowered her gaze to the slippers at her feet, “...impatient.”
Reine paled. Her mouth hung open, anger frothing from her lips, “And?” she pressed, “So?”
“And...so...,” the herbalist wrung her hands, pulled tentatively at her thin sleeves, “the doctor is close to...well...letting the Fates handle it...as the people would say.”
“He's giving up?” Reine snapped, eyes wild, “He's—giving. Up?!”
The woman faltered—took a step back, “I'm so sorry, Mademoiselle—if a patient doesn't want to heal...then they do not heal. We cannot force her to...”
“I can force you.” Reine stepped forward, fingers clenched. Nails digging into her skin, “I can force you.”
The woman danced away from Reine's glare. She positioned herself before the door, Lucius at her back.
“If the woman in there dies,” Reine began, hissing the words through her teeth, “then you—and Doctor Horace—will never work in the Roselets again. I will see to it myself that—,”
“—shush, sister.”
A hand graced the herbalist's shoulder. A hand heavy with golden rings, “I apologize.” came Florette's tender voice, “My sister is simply beside herself with worry,” Florette smiled, her grin a sharp smirk, “for a friend.”
“Yes, Mademoiselle. Of course, Mademoiselle.” the herbalist ducked her head of golden hair, blurting honorifics like blessings, “Of course, of course.”
Lucius moved aside. The herbalist grasped the door handle. Froze.
As icy fingers slithered around her tiny wrist. They tightened. Pulled.
“You do all that you can.” Reine warned, her wild eyes narrowed. Dark, “Do you understand?”
The woman swallowed.
Lucius sighed, “She can't really do much if you're here—day and night—scaring the piss out of her, now can she?” he approached Reine. Rolled his eyes and softened his voice, “Let her go, Mademoiselle. Let her go and do her job.”
Reine bit her lip. Glared into the herbalist's green eyes once more. Her grip loosened. The woman slipped away and gently closed the door behind herself.
“Really, now.” Florette murmured from Reine's right, “Without your title, you resort to intimidation to get what you want?”
At this, Lucius chuckled.
Forcing the heels of her hands into her eyes, Reine contemplated leaving, “And what do you want?” she whispered, her voice wavering, “We've been here for seven days and already it feels like fifty. Can't you tell, I have nothing left. Let me stay here—leave me be.”
Florette clicked her tongue, “Unfortunately, we are Savatiers. I cannot do this.” Taking a step forward, Florette offered Reine her arm, “Our lady mother—,”
“Stepmother.”
Florette rolled her eyes, “—has summoned us. We are to meet her in her solar.”
Reine paled, “No—no, I don't want to go.”
Taking back her arm, Florette clasped her hands together, “She is the lady of the house—you can't simply say no,” she smirked, “not anymore.”
Reine's stomach dropped. For seven days their lady stepmother had ignored them, letting them go about their own business and freshen up from the long trip here. Reine half believed that, perhaps, she'd leave them alone forever.
But that was simply a dream. Reine had to kowtow to someone else now—someone she thoroughly disliked.
“I need to be here when Marceline wakes.” Reine moaned, holding her forehead in her hand, “Please—if I do nothing else, just let me stay here. Let me have this one thing.”
“I'm sorry,” Florette said, shaking her head, “Truly. I truly am...”
Beside her, Lucius breathed, “If—if she wakes,” he inclined his head, “you'll be the first to know.”
Reine's shoulders slumped as she met his eye, “Merci, Agent.”
Lucius snorted. Searched her eyes and cleared his throat before cutting his gaze away, “Yeah.”
As Reine approached Florette, Florette offered an arm. Reine took it, looping her arm within her older sister's, “I will have no patience with her.”
“Yes,” Florette sighed, “As always.”
THEIR STEPMOTHER'S solar was crystalline. It was more sun room than solar. It was also empty.
“Does she expect us to wait?” Reine snapped, entering and hissing at the sudden onslaught of sunlight.
Florette took to the center of the room and opened her arms. Bathing herself in bright orange sunlight, she smiled. Sighed.
Reine's heels clicked against the dark floorboards of the room. Closing the distance between herself and their stepmother's thick cherrywood desk, she snatched up a note written on creamy white parchment.
Her eyes scanned over impeccable cursive, “I believe this is for us,” she called to Florette.
“Will you read it?”
Why not?
Reine huffed, “It says: North gate. East tower. Now.”
“And her signature?”
Reine nodded, “It's there.”
Florette grinned, “Let's go then—no need to keep her waiting!”
A stone grew in Reine's stomach. The color drained from her face, “Of course.” she whispered.
Whatever their stepmother had in store for them—Reine hoped to have no part in it.
> She missed the chateau—she needed to be at Marceline's side...
After seven days of nothing...what could the woman want now?
Florette took Reine's hand. The two exchanged glances.
“Come, then.” Florette smiled.
FLORETTE AND REINE moved through the Roselets, following the winding cobblestone trails towards the town's northernmost wall. Above the homes of stone and the stores of wood, rose a towering wall of rounded lumber. Guard towers stood boldly against all four corners of the high wall, men in boiled leather and sun sucking steel patrolling upon the ramparts like ants stalking through the dirt of their homes.
Townspeople nodded as Florette and Reine passed. Some offered blessings. Others threw flowers. Petals.
Reine could not enjoy it—the love. The recognition. Because, at the end of this road, stood her stepmother plucking red petals from a rose. Eying them with obvious disdain painting her icy eyes.
She wore the grand skirts of a duchess.
Halting before the open mouth of the northernmost gate, Florette and Reine dipped into dead-eyed curtsies.
Their stepmother let herself smile, “Rise, Starlings. Do you know why I've called you here today?”
Reine scanned the dirt at her feet. Florette held her tongue.
“It is wrong of a host to ignore her guests for so long, but I've been busy.” she said, her shadow moving through the dirt as she approached both girls, “And for that I am sorry. Will you two ever forgive me?”
“Ghyslain is gone.” Reine blurted as a hand came to rest on her shoulder, “He ordered us here—,”
A sharp elbow connected with Reine's side. Florette hushed her with a sharp hiss.
Their stepmother gave her a swift shoulder pat, “I know. I know about it all.” their stepmother murmured, pulling both the girls into her chest. Hugging them tightly, “And I believe you two have been through enough.”
Letting them go, the two backed away quickly.
“I think it is time for a little fun, no?” she giggled, cocking her head as she grinned. Her eyes laughing, “You two are past due for a reprieve.” Turning on her heel, she raised a hand, “Come. This is how the countryside welcomes its daughters home.”
CHARLOTTE SAVATIER took them outside of the northernmost gate, out into the rolling green countryside of sweetgrass and bowing oaks. Four horses stood absentminded, tapping at the dirt road and throwing their wind tousled manes about.
“Choose a steed.” their stepmother sang from the front.
Taking hold of a brown mare, Reine watched with narrowed eyes as her stepmother shoved away a dirt smeared stable boy and opted to climb onto her mare herself.
Some ways away, Florette giggled, “Oh—I've always loved her.”
“More than mother?” Reine called, her lips taut, “Our real mother.”
“Oh, yes. Leagues more!”
Reine bit her cheek.
As Charlotte ripped off her expensive skirts to reveal riding breeches and boots. Climbing into her mare's saddle, she gripped the reins like a woman born on the back of a beast. Flashed a snake's smile, “Come, then. Get up!”
Florette followed her lead, snatching off her overskirt to reveal a linen shift. Kicking off her slippers, Florette threw herself into the saddle barefoot.
Reine rolled her eyes. Stole a glance towards the high wall of the Roselet Estates at their backs, “I—,” she called towards Charlotte, eyes scanning the grass at her feet, “—I'm bleeding! I cannot ride—I can barely walk!”
Charlotte guffawed, throwing back her head of scarlet hair.
Reine's eyelid twitched—how unladylike!
“Anything to avoid spending time with your dear old mum?” Charlotte drawled, honorifics all but forgotten.
“It pains me to ride!”
Charlotte eyed her, blue eyes dusty, “Suck it up, girl!”
I am not a girl!
Reine pressed her lips together, clenched her fists and set her feet in the dirt.
Strong hands looped around her waist and lifted her up. Reine kicked—she fought like a child. But as she was set in the saddle she straightened. Pressed her lips together so tightly that she could feel the grit on her teeth.
Glowering at the stable boy who haphazardly lifted her into the saddle, she came eye to eye with a man three times her size. Red embers flecked his bronze hair. He wore the boiled leather of the Roselet Guard.
His eyes were two colors—one green, the other blue.
She opened her mouth to cut him down, but couldn't get a word out. His eyes stole her. Entranced her.
The man winked, “Better do as your mother says.”
She cut her gaze away. Sweat prickled upon her brow. She huffed.
“I'll have you back by supper!” Charlotte shrieked before ripping at her mare's reigns, bringing the horse onto its muscular hind legs, the beast's front hooves dove into the dirt and it sprinted. Dashing off upon the dirt road.
Florette whooped—lessons on manners and decorum completely forgotten as she sped after Charlotte.
Sticking out her bottom lip, Reine followed at a slow canter.
CHARLOTTE RODE CIRCLES around the girls, kicking her mare into a sprint the moment the girls sped up. She rode hard, flattening her belly to the saddle as her scarlet locks trailed behind her like a curtain of shining velvet.
Florette kneed her horse into a gallop, attempting to catch up to their stepmother.
Reine pursed her lips, straightening.
Some ways behind, the guard who lifted her into the saddle watched with careful eyes. They bore into her back, like a hawk keeping watch over its prey.
Charlotte swerved into another lopsided circle. Singing to her black mare, she slowed it. Pulled up beside Reine and flashed her a wild grin, “Can't you go faster?” she spat.
“I'm on my cycle.” Reine lied, hissing the words between her teeth, “How long are we going to be out here? I want to go back—,”
“—must be the horse—c'mon girl! Get!”
Reine's horse whinnied—screamed at the sudden smack to its backside—kicked its front hooves and took off.
Reine screamed. Clung to the horse's reigns until her knuckles went white. With every galloping step, her spine bounced and jumped. Her lower jaw clanged against her teeth as her eyes watered and icy wind ripped against her skin.
Choking the horse's sides with her knees, she flung her arms around its meaty neck and prayed to the Fates she wouldn't slide off.
Behind her, she heard silvery peals of laughter peppered with deep guffaws.
Her stepmother and her guardsman were laughing.
Well, how dare they! I'll show them how a true lady rides!
Reine narrowed her eyes, I'll show them how graceful the Odette can be!
The horse moved beneath her like a churning tide, its back an undulating wave as it rose and fell. Rose and fell. She counted the steps, learned the animal's pattern, and found herself sitting straighter. Found herself smiling and willing the beast to go faster, to tear at a breakneck pace down the curving dirt road as it cut through bowing oceans of sweetgrass and thyme.
Her hands fled to the leather reigns about the mare's neck. Her grip tightened. Her eyes watered as wind tore at them. Soon, her skin became numb.
She passed Florette on the path. Threw a sidelong grin behind her as Florette watched her with wide eyes. She mouthed something—slow down.
Reine shook her head.
She was having too much fun.
Reine giggled to herself—too much fun? Is there even such a thing?
No, she decided, there is not.
Another set of hooves slammed upon the trail as Charlotte speared her horse to a breakneck gallop beside Reine's.
“Race me?” Charlotte grinned.
And like lightning flashing across the sky, she was gone. Traveling around the long bend in the path like a wraith in search of its haunt.
“Merde.” Reine hissed, watching Charlotte's slender silhouette disap
pear around the bend in the path. Hugging her knees to the wide sides of her horse, she willed the animal to sprint faster with two prods to its sides.
It whinnied. Sang and took off.
Reine hadn't expected this. A sudden ride through the Roselet's countryside. How far out were they now? An hour? Two? While riding out, she had been keeping track of the time. But now—she was having too much fun to obsessively watch the position of the sun. She was truly...enjoying herself.
Maybe titles and precedence do not matter...being the Odette was something—power? But it took everything from me. Everything that I enjoyed...
Duchess Mariett would never let me ride like this. Never. It's considered...unladylike.
For a moment, she had forgotten why she disliked her stepmother. Was it because of her hatred of her true mother? The mother who has been dead for over ten years? The woman who pressed her to become something at court and who forced her into the position of the court's Odette?
Was she the reason why?
Maybe I still am something...maybe here, I can be something different. Better.
Reine caught up to Charlotte. Blue eyes met her own and Reine smiled—truly smiled, dimples peppering her cheeks—before she spurred her horse faster. Further.
The wind clawed at her. Up above, the sky bloomed bright orange as the sun prepared to set and give way for the moon. Though the air had a stinging chill to it, she took it in with a hungry inhale and held it. Squinted her eyes to avoid the water flowing from them, and exhaled. Belly pressed to the saddle. Hands freely wrapped around her mare's neck.
Charlotte flew past.
“You've been out of the saddle for too long!”
Reine rolled her eyes.
As Charlotte followed the bend in the dirt road.
Up ahead, slamming hooves halted. Silence rolled upon the wind like snow.
Reine saw this as her chance.
She followed the bend, fingers pressed into the brittle hair of her mare's neck. Her knees bit into the mare's ribs as she hugged them tighter and tighter. Ravaging wind freed her hair of its tight chignon and she let her wavy hair float freely.
Blade and Soul Page 10