The door opened behind her.
Her head snapped up, but Lafontaine was gone. No, she caught a glimpse of his robe in the dark beside the outline of a pistol.
“I want to tell you something.” Nik moved in front of her, gripping her shoulders and bending to meet her eyes. When his toes crunched the lavender stalks, he paused and looked down. “Where did these come from?” He stooped to take one and smell it, eyes blowing wide. “Lafontaine. Where is he?”
Elara heard him, but she didn’t understand a word of what he’d said. She was drowning still, struggling to breathe under the weight of everything.
“We need to go.” Nik pushed at the door. “Elara!”
“Your mother betrayed the rebels.”
His stillness was all the answer she needed.
“Youliedto me. Every single thing you’ve ever said has been a lie, andI was pathetic enough to believe you.” She turned on him. “If it wasn’t for her, the Restes would be safe right now. We wouldn’t be in this situation. And my mother…”
Her voice cracked.
Her mother would be alive.
“Elara, please.”
She threw him off.
“No! No more pleading. No more promises.” She sucked down gasps of air that would never be enough to make her lungs stop screaming. “Were you ever going to tell me the truth?”
“I wanted to.” He raked his hair the same way she had last night. She knew the texture intimately now. More than she knew him apparently. “I just couldn’t find the right time. I swear, I was going to tell you this morning.”
“But you were too late.” Lafontaine stepped from the dark. “How many times have I told you that cowardice never wins out, Nikolas?”
It was a wretched truth, one that sent her spiraling. From the very beginning, Nik had trained her to be an obedient dog for his father. No. He’d tried. At some point, Elara had changed his heart.
And he’d changed hers.
Their past was treacherous, but they could make it work.
Later. For now, they had to find a way forward.
She stepped around Nik’s protection. “What do you want?’
“The same thing Nikolas and I have both wanted since the beginning,” he replied. “The Restes needs order, and I will bring it to them.”
“By killing them?” she spat. “By allowing the guards to tear off their limbs and cut their throats?”
“Whatever it takes.” He shrugged. “What I have in mind is less… hands-on. All it will take is your help.”
Her nostrils flared. “Why not just kill me?”
“Oh, I would have loved to, but your performance in the Objet d’Art has won over some of my more weak-minded colleagues. Unlike Gaetan Arnaud, disposing of you would lead to suspicion.”
“I won’t help you,” she snarled.
“I understand.” He removed a syringe filled with purple liquid from his pocket. “Nik told you about my latest invention, but did he tell you how slowly and painfully it can kill at high dosages?”
“You can’t kill me,” she whispered. “You said so yourself.”
“You, no. But people as insignificant as Chantal Maran and Blai Lozano?” He gave a wolfish grin. “They wouldn’t be missed.”
“Elara, don’t listen to him. We can figure something out.” Nik grabbed her shoulder, but the guard in the corner moved, pulling him away.
