“He just admitted it. No human has ever bothered reporting it, and you’ve never bothered supervising your funds that go to Bog.”
He looked up, as if surprised she remembered the tavern owner’s name. Henri stood.
Lilac mirrored his movement, her chair knocking against the bottom step as she pushed it back.
“Come now,” Myrddin said, tapping her gently on the arm. The warlock had stood, now waiting patiently to her left as Herlinde knitted away.
But Lilac ignored him. Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, “Why are you and Mother more afraid of me than those like Artus, who actively hunt innocent people?”
“They are notpeople, Lilac. They organized bloodshed upon our town not even a century ago.” He glanced at her sidelong, his face etched in disappointment.
She was used to the look. She didn’t let it stop the scorn with which she regarded him. She glanced down at the scribe’s now-empty chair. “As of tomorrow morning, assault, harassment, or murder of Daemons will be equivalent to that of those crimes afflicted upon a human person.”
“They are animals,” Henri suddenly shouted, causing Myrddin to jump and Herlinde to look up from her knitting. “Daemons. Exactly as they are called. Unholy when they killed those families in Paimpont and unholy when they steal bread from the castle larders, and you bring public disgrace to your family by associating yourself with them without refrain.”
He snapped his head at the remaining guards at the doors and motioned for them to leave. They did so without question. By the time they swung shut again, she was marching up to Henri to stand toe to toe with him.
“When have I ever been a beacon of religion? A beacon of anything to this kingdom?”
“Since your birth,” he snapped. “Certainly not of religion, but of your own code of morals, if it can be called such. You spew gluttony and indecency. You run around careless, and without covering your tracks. Do you think I didn’t know you were at Bog’s tavern instead of with the seamstress? Is that why you had to go a second time tonight?”
Lilac said nothing, glaring at Henri as he looked over her shoulder at Herlinde, then Myrddin.
“I have held my tongue long enough. If it were I on the throne instead of you, I would have the both of them interrogated under oath. It is a wonder Artus did not bring it up when he very well could have.”
“Well, you are not. You insisted on passing the position down before I was ready. Before discovering if I’d ever be ready.”
“I made the decision unaware of your alarming stances,” said Henri unflinchingly.
Habit took over. She wanted out. A fight with her stubborn father had never ended well, never resolved in mutual understanding, but he usually moved on with muttering into his alcohol by now. She moved to sidestep him for the door, but Henri wrapped his hand around her bicep.
“I don’t understand this change of heart, Father. You’ve been protecting them. You must continue to,” she urged him, biting back the fury at his grip on her. “Please. They’ve done so for me, time and time again.”
“No, I’ve been protectingyou. Tell me, Lilac, what father enjoys seeing his daughter questioned? Doubted in such a way?” He brought his face close. “I do not. But when you do it to yourself, there is nothing more I cansay in your defense.” He gestured helplessly at her ruined dress, her bloodied skin. “Look at you.”
She did not cower. She wasn’t afraid of him. Little did he know, all the questioning and doubting, both within and from those around her, tired her, too. But instead of challenging those doubters, instead of helping change society’s understanding of Daemons or at least starting with his own perception of them, he expected her to change.
And change she would, but in none of the ways he wanted.
“Yes,lookat me,” Lilac said, voice full of conviction. “I am done hiding.”
Henri held her simmering gaze. “Is this why you’re letting your vices come to light? With the nerve to enter this castle clothed in such filth? I-in magic and blood?”
“Why not? Everyone knows of yours,” she spat in a seething whisper. “You’veresided under this hallowed roof for years, an adulterer—” Her father scoffed but she pressed on. “A gambler. A murderer. Look at your drinking habits, your ill-supervised funds and the unjust causes they go to. Your whores. Are there any illegitimate siblings I don’t know of? If so, please take care to send them my way. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone.” Henri flinched, deflecting his watering gaze toward the double doors. “You and I are torn from the same cloth, Father. Filth teaches filth.”
Ripping herself from him was effortless. Henri stepped back, looking at his own hand, marveling at her arm.Her strength.
She’d have to be more careful.
“If it is of any comfort to you, I don’t feel I am qualified to lead anyone. But I will protect those I love and care for, and even those who might not deserve it, with or without a crown on my head—at the head of a throne room, charging into battle, or at the gallows.”
“You will focus on your own affairs.Ourown affairs,” he breathed, staring at Herlinde. “You will leave your newfound acquaintances alone until your coronation is finished.”
“She is my seamstress,” Lilac said. “She is sewing my ball gown.”
“It will now be her wedding gown.” Herlinde spoke without looking up from her project.
“There willbeno wedding if the emperor, or anyone else considering you, changes their mind. Understand that a nobleman representing an emperor in his travels, especially in the context of a proxy marriage, has thepower to suggest otherwise to his leader. If Albrecht finds you unstable, unsuitable, then he may choose to communicate so to Maximilian and return before the ceremony.”
