“What are you doing?” Iasked for what felt like the thousandth time as I settled into the royal coach.
Leopold only grinned as he pulled the narrow door shut.
The driver set the horses into action and the Rift began to recede into the distance. Bertie stood on the stairs before the temple’s entrance, scarred arms folded over his scarred chest, looking exceptionally displeased. I waved goodbye to him. He did not wave back.
When we rounded a corner and my brother was well and truly out of sight, Leopold leaned back against the velvet cushions. “I do believe most damsels reward their heroes with effusive gestures of gratitude, not an inquisition.”
“Thank you,” I said perfunctorily. “Now, why were you at theRift?”
He had the audacity to look offended. “I was rescuing you, of course! Dear Aloysius mentioned you’d had a bit of a scare and werea little unconscious and had been sent off to be prayed over.”He pressed his lips into a firm line, trying to cover his smirk as he let me know exactly what he thought of the valet’s plan.
“The priestess told me all that. It doesn’t explain whatyouwere doing in the Rift.”
“I…” Leopold blew out a breath of annoyance and pushed back his curls, mussing their pomaded perfection. “I thought it wouldn’t sit very well with you—or your godfather—being in a temple that was not his. I don’t pretend to know how the relationships between deities and their…their…manservants’ work, but I thought you’d be uncomfortable when you woke—if you woke—and I wanted to bring you back. I suspected the powers that be might try to keep you there longer than you wished. I assumed the only one who might overrule their say was me.”
The sincerity of his admission surprised me. It was such a thoughtful gesture. Such a thoughtful, lovely, so-very-unlike-Leopold thing to do. I couldn’t help but be touched by it.
“Well, thank you,” I said after a moment. This new gratitude didn’t sit well with the offensive irritation he’d kindled in me earlier, and now I didn’t quite know what to think of this prince. How could such an arrogant and entitled, spoiled boy think to do something so attentive, so considerate?
“You’re welcome,” he responded, and the words sounded like marbles falling from his mouth. It was a phrase he’d obviously not had much practice in exercising.
Outside the coach, the buildings of Châtellerault whizzed by, exacerbating the way my head ached, and I found the simplest thing I could do to hold my impending migraine at bay was to keep my focus squarely on the young man before me.
“And…” There were so many things I could segue into: hisfather’s health; any news I’d missed in the hours I’d been gone; more stories he’d heard of the Shivers, however salacious, however untrue. There were so many things I needed to learn, so many things I needed to plan and execute and…“I’m not a manservant.”
He laughed and my heart warmed. I was glad I’d taken a more frivolous, easy approach.
“You and Margaux go about running whatever errands your gods require—what else am I meant to call you? A retainer? A lackey? A drudge?” He paused, searching for more words, clearly enjoying himself. “Ooh! A beatifically blessed handmaiden!”
I laughed, surprising us both. “I can’t speak for Margaux, but I prefergoddaughter.”
He made a face. “No one can speak for Margaux exactly the way she can.”
“You seem to dislike her most acutely,” I observed, feeling as if my words were not wholly my own. There was something about Leopold’s undeniable charisma that rubbed off on whoever he was near. I felt wittier and more sophisticated after mere minutes with him than I had in the whole of my life. I wasn’t sure it was my best self he drew out—such snark did come with a touch of feeling slightly superior to Margaux as well—but it was awfully fun in the moment.
“I don’t trust anyone who claims to not speak for themselves,” he said simply. “She spends her days passing along messages from this gloriously holy mother figure that none of us poor louts are deemed worthy of even being permitted to see. Have you?” he asked suddenly.
“What?”
“Seen the First. Basked in the radiance of her magnitude. Fallen to your knees in reverence and awe.”
“I have not,” I admitted.
“See—even the Dreaded End’s goddaughter hasn’t seen her. But Margaux has. Margauxclaimsto have. So who is holdingherin check? She could say the Holy First has declared the moon is made of pumpernickel and we all would have to believe it because no one can say otherwise.”
“Oh, Your Royal Highness,” I began earnestly, “the moon is clearly a brioche.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “But you see what I’m getting at, yes? And the way she fills my father’s head with all these pronouncements, with all these so-called prophecies. She has so much more power than anyone realizes. She presents herself as this dowdy little reverent, covered chin to toe in all those heavy layers, but whatever she whispers to my father is taken as gospel. He could pass a law tomorrow confirming the lunar pumpernickel and all the best sandwiches would be gone forever.”
Even though he gave his argument as a carefree example, I could see the seriousness of it and wondered if there was any way to check her claims, to confirm Margaux’s messages from the other realm.
In the back of my mind, I saw the blackened skull covering the king’s face. I could feel the tug of a connection between the two—Margaux’s visions, my callings. Were we truly just pawns on a playing board of the gods’ design? Or was there a way to take our gifts and twist them for personal gains, for ulterior benefits? Merrick knew the instant I dared to defy my orders; wouldn’t it be the same for Margaux with the Holy First?
“She brought me to court,” I offered, feeling guilty for thinking badly of the oracle, who wasn’t here to defend herself. “She was right there. Unless you’re lumping me in with all her blessed handmaidenschemes.”
Leopold shrugged. “At least you carry out your work. It’s your skills that guide your hands, your head that holds all that boring and complicated knowledge. I personally don’t see how you do it.”
“At breakfast you called me a charlatan,” I reminded him unkindly.
