“Josse!” Anne fists her filthy skirt and runs for me. “You’re back!”
I kneel down and catch her in my arms. Françoise crashes into my side a moment later and we three topple over sideways and splash into a puddle, laughing too hard to care about the cold and wet. I rain kisses on their cheeks and smooth my hands over their hair, inspecting every inch of them. “Are you well? Have you regained your strength?” I can’t stop babbling and my eyes sting with tears, which is slightly mortifying, but it’s so good to see them alive and well and warm and solid and—
“Stop!” Françoise giggles and bats my hand away. “We’re fine. Where have you been? We were beginning to worry you’d never return.”
“Some of us were beginning to celebrate,” Louis calls from his corner.
Marie shoots him a disapproving look as she crosses the chamber to where I sit with the girls. “This is a happy moment, Louis. No need to sully it with old quarrels. We’re glad to see you’re safe,” she says to me.
“I’d hardly call them old quarrels!” Louis’s voice rises as Desgrez and Mirabelle duck into the chamber. “He brought the poisoner back! Captain Desgrez, how could you allow—”
“Mirabelle!” the girls shriek over Louis. They scramble up and attack her with only slightly less gusto than they did me. They jostle for position in her lap and laugh like they haven’t since the attack on Versailles. Something squeezes in my chest, seeing the three of them together. Desgrez shakes his head at the smile creeping across my lips.
“You look different,” Anne says, studying Mirabelle’s close-cropped curls.
“I had to disguise myself,” she explains, “and your brother thought this would be the best way.”
“But your curls were so big and bouncing and lovely!” Françoise laments, swirling her arms around her head just as I did outside the Louvre.
Mirabelle chuckles and cuts me a glance. “I don’t think anyone has ever called my hairlovely,but thank you. How are you both feeling? I’ve been longing to check on you. Have the spots faded? Have your coughs ceased?”
Anne holds out her arms for inspection, and Françoise bobs her head, insisting she’s never felt better.
“So what have you been up to, now that you’re well?” I say, plopping down beside them.
“We’ve been hunting rats,” Anne pronounces.
“Rats!” Mirabelle glances at me, trying not to look disgusted.
Françoise nods eagerly. “They like to chew our skirts, so I ripped off bits of material and put them in the corner, and when the rats came, I trapped one all by myself. I hit it with my shoe and cooked it on a stick and ate it for supper.”
“You ate it?” I laugh. Foul as it sounds, I’m brimming with pride. Spoiled, pampered princesses would never stoop so low. My girls are strong. Resilient. A new breed of nobility.
“We gobbled it up, even the tail. Just like our kitten who lives at the palace,” Anne tells Mirabelle. “When we return, I am going to help her hunt. I would make a good kitten, don’t you think?”
“You would be a wonderful kitten,” Mirabelle agrees.
“Enough of this blessed reunion.” Louis stamps to where we sit. “I demand to know why you’re here. And why you would allow it, Captain.” He glowers at Desgrez. “Josse betrayed me. And assaulted you. He can’t come parading back after weeks of carousing with our enemy and expect to be received with open arms.”
I regain my feet and draw a deep breath. Heaven help me, it will take every morsel of patience I possess to survive what comes next. “So lovely to see you, brother,” I say. “Before you run me out, you might be interested to hear we’ve devised a new plan to see you out of the sewer and reinstalled on the throne, but we need your cooperation to carry it out.”
Marie lets out an uncharacteristic squeal and claps her hands to her chest. “Thank goodness. I was beginning to fear—”
Louis silences her with a look and turns back to me, his face crumpled with distaste. “Not another one of your ill-conceived plans. We’ve been through this before.”
“You were the reason my previous plan fell through. And you haven’t even heard our proposition,” I say, trying and failing to keep my voice from rising.
“I don’t need to. I have no faith in anything devised by the two of you. You have no experience in political matters, and it’s no secret you abhor me. Why would I believe, for a moment, that you’d wish to return me to the throne?”
“For the sake of my sisters, and the people of Paris, and because sometimes doing the right thing involves making compromises,” I shout.
Desgrez places a hand on my shoulder and tugs me back. “Which is what we’ve come to discuss with you, Your Royal Highness.”
“I cannot fathom why you’d cast your lot with theirs, Captain.” Louis sniffs. “I thought you to be of a sounder mind. Josse is a heinous rebel. You told me he was dead as far as you were concerned.”
“And I meant every word. I had every intention of punishing him for his crimes, but then I saw their plan in action. I urge you to at least listen to our proposition.” Desgrez’s voice is indulgent and he sketches a ridiculous bow that makes me want to kick him. Louis doesn’t deserve a scrap of our respect. He’s impossible. Unbearable. I don’t know why I ever thought this could work.
“Fine,” Louis says. “I’ll listen—toyou,Captain. But I promise nothing. And I shan’t withhold my feelings.”
