“Are you still willing to give me information?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer. “Though I don’t know how useful I can be. He kept me away from court for a long time. He doesn’t show weakness easily.”
My father nods.
“There was a council meeting,” I add. “With the clergy. The Pope is growing restless. Charles isn’t doing enough to stop the attacks in the North.”
He begins to pace the room, hands clasped behind his back. “Good. If the clergy doubts him, we can deepen that uncertainty.”
“Charles is allowing me to take on a more active role,” I say quietly. “I’ll be able to learn more.”
He slows, then stops. Turns to look at me with a faint creasebetween his brows.
“You still trust the girl at your side?” he asks. “Aileen.”
“I suppose I do,” I say. “She’s been with me since before the wedding.”
“Yes,” he says, as if that explains everything. “And she’s been…useful to the cause.”
I frown. “Useful?”
He studies me for a moment, clearly surprised by my confusion. “I assumed you knew,” he says mildly. “Given her family.”
I draw my brows together in confusion.
“Her family?” I repeat.
He waves a hand, dismissive. “The connection was never meant to be hidden from you. Only from the court. Her father has been working with the opposition for years.” A pause. “Much like his daughter.”
The room seems to tilt, just slightly.
All at once, the careful listening, the way Aileen asks questions without seeming to, how she steers conversations away from danger, how she is always there when I need her falls into a new pattern.
“You placed her near me,” I say slowly.
He nods. “I made sure you were not without allies. Especially when I could not be near you myself.”
A strange warmth spreads through my chest. Is it relief?
“So I can trust her,” I say.
He inclines his head. “You always could.”
I let out a breath. “She’s been trying to help,” I say softly. “With the staff. Listening.”
A hint of approval flickers in his eyes. “Good. Then she’s learned quickly.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. “Thank you,” I say at last.
“I’ll be in touch,” he replies.
We embrace again, briefly this time, and then I slip back into the hallway. The corridors are eerily empty on my way back, not a single soul in sight.
Sleep refuses to come.
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts tangled and restless. Somewhere between fear and resolve, I understand that I’ve made a choice tonight—one that places me firmly between my father and my husband. But now, at least, I know I am not standing there alone. And still, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold without breaking.
Chapter 11
