“Then let him,” she said, teeth bared. “I left this castle in the first place to ask the magic folk to fix me. They couldn’t do it, so do not think I haven’t tried to magically morph into the woman that meets your and Mother’s expectations.” Her father’s throat bobbed at the unexpected confession. “But in my quest, I was defended and accepted by those whom you would never expect. I will stand up for them either way. They are considered abominations that walk amongst us only because we refuse to see them as kin. They are Brittany just as much as they are Brocéliande. Iwillprotect them, even if it means standing up to France on my own. Even if it means standing up to Artus. To you.”
The room was quiet as Henri bowed his head in defeat. Lilac looked to Herlinde and Myrddin, who’d too eagerly stood from the table. She nodded, dabbed her mouth on her napkin, and proceeded toward the door.
Before she could lead them out, her father spoke again. “Where did you find her, Lilac?” he said quietly.
Reluctantly, she slowed. “Who?”
“Piper.”
Lilac swallowed. “Her name is Phoebe. You shall call her Phoebe Allard. And it was she who found me.” Lilac fixed her expression before turning to him again. She smiled despite her father’s look of alarm. “Why? Is there something wrong?”
He was shaking his head. “It’s been a long week. I might pay Madame Kemble a visit.”
“You should do that, Father. You look pale. As if you’d seen a ghost.”
He lowered himself onto the stairs behind him as she beckoned the witch and warlock out. A final glance before the doors shut behind them showed Henri with his head in his hands.
21
Herlinde and Myrddin refused Lilac’s offer to accompany her upstairs, quietly citing the limits of the illusion outside that was her horse and carriage. The real carriage and Giles were still at The Fenfoss Inn, and Myrddin informed her before they strode into earshot of the foyer guards that her coachman would dutifully return by the next morning, fed and bathed.
Herlinde promised she’d return with her assistant later in the week with her gown—impressively, even for an enchantress clothier, no measurements needed.
This quelled Lilac’s quiet concern over her ball-turned-wedding dress, but by now that was a distant worry compared to everything else that piled upon it. France. Meeting the emissary and hearing Maximilian’s offer. Garin, and what they’d done at the brothel. Kestrel’s deal, and their Accords.
TheGuàichest at the inn, yet to be delivered to Cinderfell.
Silently she watched, suddenly feeling very alone as the guards opened the gate. Myrddin climbed into the driver’s box, Herlinde carrying her kitting project into the carriage, and they rolled forward, past the bailey gate and onto the path until they were swallowed by the treeline.
He’d disband the illusion and teleport them once out of eyesight.
There were many burning questions she’d wished to ask them—how had Herlinde known so much, and how was she related to Lorietta? The tavern owner had never mentioned other family in the area. What was the plan for Garin when Myrddin returned to the inn tonight?
But there were guards flanking the door, and so the witch and warlock had only answered Lilac’s curious gaze with a parting smile before leaving.
Upstairs, she found her chamber door ajar, tub filled and steaming, the doors to her balcony propped open to a pleasant night—or early morning—with one of her book stacks.
Yanna and Isabel were still nowhere to be found, and must have retired to bed—she hoped. Lilac hesitated in the doorway, glimpsing her lady-in-waiting pacing the length of the room, with half the mind to check the shared second-floor handmaidens’ quarters next to the library.
“Well?” Piper demanded, pacing away. “Where is he?”
Lilac stepped into the room and watched Piper stomp past her. She shut and locked the door.
The vampire, besides her healthy glow of pink and full cheeks that no longer showed her bones since the last time Lilac had seen her, didn’t look like a vampire much at all. Now that she could focus past dolling out lie after lie, Lilac noticed the olive shift Piper wore was familiar. As the vampire paced between the vanity and the balcony doors, growling profanities under her breath, she also noticed a pair of her own shoes upon her feet.
“Thanks for drawing my bath.” Careful to stay out of her way, Lilac made her way to the tub, watching Piper’s nostrils flare.
“Where is that coward?”
“It’s nice to see you, too.”
Piper slowed her pacing, much like Garin did when he was upset. Maybe it was something to do with a vampire-type of restlessness.
Lilac wasted no time undoing the lace at her front; she would have waited for Piper to settle down, but couldn’t stand the feeling of crusted blood on her skin and soaked through her clothes another minute.
“Didhedo that to you?” Piper asked quietly. She was facing the vanity, surveying Lilac’s reflection in the mirror.
“He did,” Lilac replied hoarsely. She added, “but I did it back to him,” when Piper’s eyes flicked dangerously up to her.
