THEsilence was deafening as Renard and his advisors swept through the tent to Pyrenee’s empty place, waiting between Luca’s nonexistent Torrence party and Amarande’s stone-faced Ardenian crew.
Renard seemed to gain steam with every ounce of confusion thrust his way, vibrating off the shock, letting it energize his step and the sallow smoothness of his storybook-prince face. By the time he sat down, the entire space was ablaze with white-hot disbelief.
It was Amarande who spoke first, and it wasn’t the most elegant response she’d ever had in her life. The words fell out in a stumble as she stared at him more agape than she preferred but completely unable to control her features any more than her words.
“What… what are you doing here?”
Renard’s eyes met hers, broken glacier blue and brilliant as ever, highlighted by dark smudges beneath them and the cold smile that pulled bloodlessly across his lips. His arms went wide, as if he were presenting something special, but in this case, it was himself.
“I am King of Pyrenee, of course.”
Renard’s arms fell with a slap and the sycophants with him simply dropped onto their seats as if it was completely normal that a dead man would be their appointed leader.
Amarande openly glared, the silence buzzing in her mind at this new reality so thick it threatened to wall her up as she was, simply staring at him with wild anger and awe.
Finally, her brain jogged to life. Hooking on the possibility that this wasn’t real.
“But…” Amarande swallowed, attempting to unclog the words in her throat, describing the worst thing she’d ever done. “But I killed you.”
Renard grinned widely again as if it were a party trick.
“So I’ve been told. And yet, here I am. A miracle of the stars, no?”
No.
“There is a fine line between a miracle and a monster,” Luca gritted out.
Renard’s amusement only spiked. “You’re one to talk from what I hear.”
A single pointer finger uncurled from the tight fists in Amarande’s lap as her words lined themselves up now under her own power. “Your mother gained your kingdom because you were dead. And then your brother after you. If you were alive all this time… how?”
“How did they believe it was their turn to rule? I’m unsure.” Renard almost sounded bored. “It’s unfortunate they aren’t here to weather an interrogation as I’d like to know just as much as the rest of you because I was most apparently alive all this time.”
Ancient Councilor Laurent cleared his throat as he was wont to do. “The leaders of Pyrenee do not dispute our king’s account. Our previous queen and king were ill-informed.”
Amarande nearly choked on her own spit.
“They weren’t ill-informed. They werethere,as was I. As was the Otsakumea.”
The parties of Myrcell and Basilica honed in on Amarande, her uncle speaking for them. “Did you lie to us, Princess?”
“Queen. I amqueen.”
Amarande’s blood surged at this multipronged jab of disrespect. Questioning her title, questioning her account, with a dead man sitting mere inches away.
“And no. Of course not. I stabbed him and he died before me.” She waved a hand at the three Pyrenee councilors. “He died in front of you.You were there.”
Councilor Menon answered with a shrug of his thin shoulders. “We retreated with the queen regent. The castle guard attended to His Highness.”
“I was there.He died.” Luca joined in now, insistent, jaw in a hard line. “Renard fell to the dais, his lifeblood everywhere, his body slack. He was dead.”
The Pyrenee councilors shook their heads in time. “No, that is not our account. It is not an accurate representation of what happened.”
This was a different sort of denial than the public one at Amarande’s coronation. This was a bald-faced lie, meant to make her and Luca question their own sanity.
“But you elevated Inés to queen.” Amarande’s knuckles struck her open palm as she tried to lay out the honest truth of what they’d actually done. “You disowned Taillefer for his part in the regicide. You—”
“So youdidlie to us.”
