Mirabelle’s remedy. The one she used to heal Desgrez and my sisters. The curative that started everything—and ended it as well, it seems.
“Mirabelle?” I slit my eyes to peer around the room. The walls are covered in deep burgundy brocade. A velvet fauteuil rests in the corner, and the side tables are made of polished rosewood. The river Seine meanders lazily past the window, throwing fractals of fading red sunlight across the ceiling. We are in the Louvre. Which can mean only one thing: the Shadow Society is truly vanquished.
“Mirabelle?” I call again, and a thick, low voice coughs in response from the door.
“It’s about time you awoke,” says the piggish steward. He wears a white wig and a condescending frown. “His Royal Highness has been waiting all day. I am to escort you to him at once.”
Before, I would have bristled at such a summons. Heaven forbid I keep Louis waiting even a minute after we all nearly perished. Doesn’t he need to eat and bathe and sleep? But I allow the steward to help me out of bed and escort me down the hall because I’m eager to know what happened after I collapsed.
And I’m even more eager to see my sisters.
The steward leads me through the clock pavilion, clucking at my limping step, and into the Grande Galerie, where a massive armchair is arranged before the fireplace. Louis sits rigidly atop the cushion, clad in white from head to toe—white kidskin breeches and a white doublet with golden studs. He looks so pristine compared to the grime and wreckage from Notre-Dame. As if he’s forgotten the battle already. Attendants rush around him, stoking the fire and bearing trays of thinly sliced meats and soft cheese. Several nobles I recognize from the battle are clustered behind him, returned to their satin doublets and powdered wigs. But there’s no sign of my sisters anywhere.
Louis sees me and gestures to the ground before him. “Come forward.”
“Isn’t this a tad excessive?” I say with a laugh.
Louis’s face pinches as if he ate an unripe berry. “Is that any way to greet your king?”
“You’ve been king less than a day. And I thought—”
“I’ve been king all my life. Chosen of God from the moment I was born.”
I slap my hand to my forehead and drag it through my hair. For some reason I presumed things would be different now. We will never love each other, but after the time we shared in battle and the change I saw in him …
“Where are Anne and Françoise?” I ask. “And Mirabelle?”
“You cannot just barge in here, making demands. I shall dictate this conversation.”
“First, I didn’t barge in anywhere.Yousummoned me. And if you want to dictate, get on with it already.”
He sniffs and glares expectantly.
Sighing, I drop into the world’s most overwrought and condescending bow. “Get on with it already,Your Majesty.”
A smile flutters at the corner of his lips. “As you may recall, I saved your life several times at Notre-Dame… .”
Severaltimes is generous, but I grit my teeth and nod. “And I thanked you.”
“Such a life debt deserves more than a mere thanks.”
I glance miserably at the door. All I want is my girls. And Mirabelle. And to leave behind my brother and the battle and all ofthis.“Why don’t you tell me what you want so we can be done with it?”
“It’s most inconvenient for a new king to have a bastard brother milling about. You are uncouth and unpredictable. Some of my new ministers have advised that I banish you from court… .”
My mouth falls open and I gape at the noblemen standing behind Louis. We fought side by side only yesterday. And, before that, I spared their lives with antidotes. A surge of old, familiar pain bubbles inside my belly, but instead of lunging at them as I would have done before, I ball my fists and stand my ground. Let them whisper and jeer. I have nothing to prove. I am enough. “Thankless, scheming sots,” I mutter.
Louis laughs. Even though nothing about this is funny. He fans his face with a gloved hand. “While my ministers think I would be better off without you, I am of a different opinion. I made a promise to my people, and it would reflect poorly on me if I ousted their champion straight away. So I’ve another proposal for you. It seems I’m in need of a new police captain, and I believe you are the man for the job. An old friend claimed it would suit you.”
“What?”All the anger drains out of me, puddling in my boots. My eyes sting. “You want me to take Desgrez’s place?”
“I need someone I trust patrolling the streets, and it would please me greatly if that man was you.”
I shake my head slowly. I could never fill Desgrez’s shoes. And I don’t want to fill them. Not if it means moving on. Forgetting him. I have other responsibilities, besides.
“I can’t. The girls …”
“Have been placed in excellent care.”
