She nodded, but Emillie is who answered, “She lost a dear friend not too long ago.”
Revelie inhaled sharply, having heard the story from Ariadne during their time together at the old Caldwell manor. “Kall?”
“He often cooked for us,” Margot explained, giving Ariadne’s hand a firm squeeze. “It has been a great adjustment for us all and a painful loss for many.”
“Let us speak of something else.” Ariadne brushed the tears away and set the plate with her roll on the low table beside her mug. The last thing she needed was to dwell on that horrible time.
“Of course.” Emillie smiled at her sadly. With her own recent loss, Ariadne was certain her sister empathized.
Revelie poured the tea into their mugs, mint and lavender wafting up from the steaming liquid. With no sugar to speak of and the little dairy reserved for the kitchens, they accepted their individual cups as they were.
Once composed, Ariadne turned to her friend. “Do you think Camilla is going to be alright?”
“If there is one thing I know of Loren,” Revelie said with a scoff, “it is that he will want to use every advantage he has. He is no fool in thinking Camilla would be a prize.”
Ariadne could not stop her gaze from flickering to the Caersan’s hand with her missing finger.
To her surprise, Revelie did not curl her remaining digits in a vain attempt to hide the disfigurement. Instead, she held it up. “He did this because he knows how much I value my hands. What I am most concerned about is what he believes Camilla values most about herself.”
“He will use everything in his arsenal to torment us,” Emillie agreed. “We cannot allow him to see how much it hurts.”
The very notion of Camilla being left behind and in the hands of such a monster was enough to make Ariadne’s skin crawl. She did not believe her friend to be safe for one moment. So long as she remained alone in Valenul, she was at risk.
“Lord Dodd was transferred to Eastwood Province,” Revelie said, “and positioned as the Lord Governor.”
“An interesting choice.” Margot sipped her tea. “Dodd has spent very little time in Monsumbra and has even less knowledge of how to run it appropriately.”
Ariadne chewed her lip. “Perhaps that was the point.”
“Force him to depend on the military leaders of the area,” Emillie agreed.
But Revelie tilted her head with a look of reservation. “Force him away from Laeton is more like it.”
Emillie glowered. “Away from Camilla, so she had no one.”
At that, Ariadne frowned. She had not spoken to anyone of what occurred between her and Nikolai. With her mind so preoccupied by Azriel’s well-being, she had not had the chance to sort through her conversation with her old Elit, let alone share it aloud.
“I do not think that is wholly true,” Ariadne said before the silence could stretch too long between them.
All eyes swiveled to her in unison. Margot raised a white brow as Emillie asked, “What makes you believe that?”
“Nikolai.”
Revelie scoffed. She shook her head with a scowl. “Nikolai Jensen is Loren’s gold-plated dog. He licks the King’s boots with a smile and asks for more.”
Twisting her fingers in the skirt of her dress, Ariadne nodded. “I agree. However, you were not with me in the drawing room when Loren had me.”
“Because that bastard allowed Camilla to be beaten.” Revelie’s hate radiated out from every breath. “I do not trust a word he says.”
“He is the only reason Loren did not…”
No one spoke. No one moved. By the stillness of the air around Ariadne, she was almost certain no one even breathed. The three Caersan women looked back at her in shock. She need not finish the sentence for them to understand.
“What do you mean?” Emillie asked, then clarified, “What did Nikolai do?”
“He found us,” Ariadne explained with a shudder, “and knocked Loren out.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Revelie gaped as she grappled with the new information.
