Lafontaine raised a brow. “Interesting.” His smile cut to the side, sharper now. “She was more than that. She was a poor girl born to unfortunate circumstances. A powerful artist capable of creating something the world had never seen before. A shooting star with a heart on fire.”
He stepped closer, advancing until Elara had her back pressed against the door. She could scream for Nik. They could overpower him, and then… what? They’d hang for even laying a finger on a Souverain before they could reveal his plans.
Lafontaine stooped to pick up the bundle, bringing the petals to his nose.
“How would you know all that?” she asked quietly. She didn’t trust Nik to stay calm if he woke up and found Lafontaine here.
“He hasn’t told you.” He gave a hollow laugh. “I tried to fix him, you know. When his mother died, he was nothing but a sniveling wretch, and I… Well, I took pity on the poor boy.”
“He doesn’t need to be fixed,” she spat.
“Are you so sure about that?”
Lafontaine plucked the petals one at a time, letting them float away.
“He’s still a coward running from himself,” he continued. “What story has he spun for you, my dear? Has he told you I’m the cruel Souverain dangling my praise on a string? That everything he’s ever done has been for me and me alone?”
Just like she had at the interview, Elara remained silent.
He gave an undignified snort. “He’s still a pathetic boy too afraid to make his own way in the world.”
“I’m not listening to you.” She spat on his pristine hem. “You killed Gaetan, you monster.”
Elara wanted to bottle the look of surprise on his smug face.
“We know what you’re doing. He’s not your dog anymore.”
“You’re right.” Hauntingly, Lafontaine rubbed his lip the same way Nik did. “It seems he’s yours.”
“Bastard!” She dove for him.
A click in the corner made her freeze. From the darkness, the barrel of a gun gleamed. The officer holding it stared right through her, as if killing her would be no chore at all.
“It would be a shame if the Restes learned their very own hero, Elara Rousseau, was murdered in the night.” Lafontaine leaned in close, breath hot against the shell of her ear. “Wouldn’t want to add fuel to this pyre, would we?”
She lifted her chin. “What do you want?”
“To set you free. From all the lies Nikolas has told you. Starting with his mother, my Haydee.”
“Your…” Her mind raced past the familiarity of the name and stumbled through weeks of clues she’d been too foolish to notice. Nik had always said Lafontaine found him after his mother died and gave him everything, but he never said how. Or why. Why him out of all the Restes orphans.
Because Lafontaine wasn’t just his Souverain—he was his father.
Tears burned her eyes.
“When I found him clinging to his mother’s corpse, I refused to present such a spineless son to the world—even if my blood courses through him. I told him to survive the winter. If he did, I’d take him in.To my surprise, the sniveling creature did, so I gave him shelter, food, and an education.”
Elara’s heart was breaking. “How could you be so cruel? All he’s ever wanted was to please you, to the point he was willing to doanythingyou asked.” She thought of the bruises, the countless scars on his chest and back. Some were from the Restes, but she’d wager not all.
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you hate him?”
“Because he is weak. And a failure.”
He hadn’t even tried to deny it. This wasn’t a father. He didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.
She tried to shake him out of her head. “We’re finished here.”
She turned.
