Page 62 of The Scarlet Veil

“Onthat, we can agree.” Maman nods once, terse but apparently satisfied. “I want my daughter back. No matter the cost.”

Coco releases Lou, rising to her feet. She stands taller than Maman, and the latter must look up to meet Coco’s gaze. “Wewillfind her, madame.”

Maman blinks, and I wait for her lips to loosen, to fling sharp words like knives. Instead—to my utter shock—her eyes shine overbright, and a tear slips down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, but my friends still notice. A sapphire handkerchief drifts across the room on a phantom breeze and lands like a butterfly on Maman’s shoulder. She plucks it up and drops it atop the desk.

Though Lou shrugs at the silent rebuke, nonchalant, I know her well enough to spot the concern darkening her blue-green eyes. “There isn’t anything I’ve lost that I haven’t soon found, Madame Tremblay. Your daughter won’t be any different. One way or another, wewillfind her.”

“Thank you.” Maman glances away from the desk and moves toward the door as a knock sounds upon it. Once, twice. Then three, four, five times.

I smile in spite of myself.

I’ve heard this knock a dozen times before. Possibly a hundred.Jean Luc said we needed it, a way of knowing who was at my door, of knowing whether or not they were safe. Of course, he was the only one who ever used it. And he was only ever safe.

Wasn’t he?

Emotion burns like acid up my throat, but I can’t discern what, exactly, I am feeling. It hurts too much to contemplate, like an infected wound left to fester. I cannot touch it. That would only make it worse.

The door opens with a flick of Lou’s wrist, and—

There he is.

Jean Luc.

Cloaked in blue and silver—a sparkling Balisarda at his side—his eyes widen when he takes in my mother. “M-Madame Tremblay!” He bows instantly. “I had no idea you were visiting the Tower today. You... you should have an escort. Let me find Frederic. He can assist you—”

“No need.” Maman lifts her chin, and though she standsmuchshorter than Jean Luc, she manages to glare down at him all the same. “And this wasnota social call. Your investigations are failing, Captain. The time has come for me to conduct one of my own.”

His expression falls. “Please, Madame Tremblay, we’re doing what we can.”

“Oh, I believetheyare.” Maman points grudgingly to Lou and Coco. “But last I saw, your huntsmen were pecking through farmland and bushes like a flock of useless chickens.”

He flinches and looks away swiftly. “They’ve been ordered to search every inch of Belterra. That includes farmland.”

“My daughter has not beenstashedinside a bushel ofblueberries.” Her voice cracks, and three more tears leak over her cheeks. Stillstanding in the threshold, Jean Luc risks a quick glance up at her. His mouth parts when he sees her tears.

Lou attempts to fill the silence with a quiet, “It’s true.” Then— “Célie would never have risked staining her clothes—uniform, gown, or otherwise.”

“Nothing would have made her more violent,” Coco agrees.

Jean Luc rolls his eyes at them, ceasing only when Maman jabs a finger in his direction. “I do not care what title you call yourself. I do notcareif it is captain or fiancé. If you don’t find my daughter, I won’t rest until this tower has been dismantled and used as kindling.”

She pushes past him with an elegance I could never emulate, her anger honed to a knifepoint. Lifting her skirts as she moves into the hallway, she straightens again, her posture impeccable and her spine ramrod stiff. A portrait-perfect stance. She arches her brow at him. “Well?”

“Yes, Madame Tremblay.” Jean Luc bows again, lifting his right hand over his heart in a silent promise. “Would you care for an escort back to your carriage?”

“No, I would not.”

With that, Maman leaves without another word, and—when she disappears around the bend—Jean Luc slumps against the doorjamb. His forehead, slick with sweat, rests against his arm.

“Rough day?” Coco asks sweetly.

Toosweetly. The words dissolve like candy floss on my tongue.

Jean Luc doesn’t bother to look up. “Don’t start.”

“Ah, what a shame.” She clicks her tongue gently before she smiles, baring all of her pearly white teeth in a row. “You see,we’vedevoted the day to convincing birds to search the borders forsuspicious vessels, enchanting pigs to recognize Célie’s scent like she’s a damned truffle, and—oh, what else?” She taps her chin. “That’sright. We spent the last hour trapped in this room with Célie’s grieving mother, who justshowed upwhile we looked for a personal item with which to scry!”

“Stop it.” Jean Luc moves a hand to his Balisarda, as if clutching it for strength. “Don’t act like I’ve done nothing. I haven’t been able to eat, drink, or sleep for the pastweek. My entire existence revolves around findingmyfiancée.”

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