“Now,” I said softly, making it clear this wasn’t a request.
She wiped her hands on her apron and followed me to a small storage pantry off the main kitchen. I closed the door behind us, plunging the space into relative quiet, the kitchen’s chaos muffled by thick wood.
“I told them you were with me all day,” I said without preamble. “That you’ve been aiding me between events, as you have in previous tournaments.”
Confusion flashed across her weathered features. “Your Highness?”
“They know Isabeau is gone,” I continued, watching her face carefully. “They suspect someone helped her. You were mentioned specifically.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, her hands clutching at her apron.
“I gave you cover,” I explained. “But I need to know where she went. They plan to hunt her, Brigida. Like an animal. And when they catch her—” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the horror of it choking me.
“Hunt her outside of the tournament?” Brigida whispered, her face paling. “The poor child. I didn’t think they’d bother once she was away—”
“Where did she go?” I pressed. “Please. I need to find her before they do.”
Brigida studied my face, searching for something. Whatever she found seemed to reassure her, because her shoulders sagged slightly. “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted quietly. “I suggested Eldagh. It’s a place where women can make their own way, where men don’t ask too many questions.”
“But she didn’t go there?” I prompted, sensing there was more.
“She refused my coin,” Brigida continued. “Said her path was less than two days’ ride from here. That she had to go where she was needed.”
The Forbidden Forest. Of course. Not Thorndale, which was farther, but directly back to whatever waited for her in those accursed woods. Back to the beasts that had left their mark on her flesh. Back to the dungeon where I’d found her.
“Did she say anything else? Anything that might help me find her?”
Brigida hesitated, then shook her head. “Only that she was needed elsewhere. That without her, something would suffer. She seemed... determined. As if returning to that forest was worth any risk.”
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to make sense of it all. Isabeau had been desperate to leave the castle from the moment she arrived, despite her injuries, despite the danger. She’d spoken of beasts and curses, of responsibilities I couldn’t begin to understand. I’d dismissed it as delirium, as trauma-induced fantasy. But what if it wasn’t?
“Your Highness,” Brigida’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “she’s not what they say. Not a witch like in the old stories. She saved Thibaut when she could have let him die. Whatever power she has, she uses it to heal, not harm.”
“I know,” I said simply, because I did. Whatever Isabeau was, whatever abilities she possessed, she wasn’t evil. Wasn’t the monster Gaspard and my father wanted to destroy.
“Will you tell them?” Brigida asked, fear creeping back into her voice. “That I helped her?”
“Never,” I promised. “As far as anyone knows, you’ve been with me all day. But stay out of sight as much as possible for now.”
Relief washed over her face. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
I nodded, my mind already racing ahead. “I need to return to the tournament. Suspicion would arise if I’m gone too long.”
“And afterward?” she asked, surprising me. “What will you do?”
What would I do? The question echoed in my head as I considered my options. Return to the tournament, pretend nothing was wrong, prepare for tomorrow’s hunt with the rest of them? Or follow the pull in my chest that had been there since the moment I’d seen that hooded figure ride past my tent?
“I’m going after her,” I said, the decision crystallizing even as the words left my mouth. “Tonight when darkness rests the day. Before they can organize their hunt.”
“They’ll call it treason,” Brigida warned. “Aiding a witch.”
“They can call it what they like,” I replied, a strange calm settling over me. “I won’t let them hunt her down like an animal. Won’t let Coventry anywhere near her again.”
Brigida nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “You’ll need supplies. Food, water, weapons.” She thought for a moment. “I can gather what you need without raising suspicion. Meet me at the west stables at midnight.”
I studied the old woman, seeing strength and determination where before I’d noticed only servile efficiency. “Why are you helping us? Helping her?”
“Because in sixty years of service to this castle, I’ve seen what power does to men,” she said simply. “How it twists them. Makes them believe they’re above the gods’ judgment. But I’ve also seen goodness. In you. In her.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders. “And I’m too old to fear much anymore against those who seek to repress us.”
