Page 172 of Disillusioned
“I must attend this meeting,” Lilac said. “It is important.” Hedwig was peeking around the corner of the kitchen wall, smiling when the queen turned to her. “After last night, perhaps our guests would enjoy retiring for tea and breakfast in the Grand Hall?”
“Gladly, Your Majesty.” Hedwig bowed before disappearing into the scullery.
“Meanwhile, Albrecht will retire to his quarters.”
“On the contrary,” Garin said, slinking his arm from her grasp. “I’m going to step outside to find my valet. I’d imagine he’s walking the grounds.”
“But you need rest,” Lilac suggested.
“I’m plenty rested.”
“And toeatsomething.”
Garin returned her warning smile with one of his own. “Believe me, I am well sated.”
“Fine, My Lord.” Her fingers flew to her mouth. The agreement was lifted from her lips by his magic, shocking her. It wasn’t even an outright command this time. She gritted her teeth, glaring daggers at him.
One could hear a pin drop as Garin dipped into a reverent bow and gave a quick peck to the back of Lilac’s hand—a simple acknowledgement of hierarchy. No one could tell, perhaps besides Piper, that it was a gesture that made her blood sing with rage and desire.
“Madame Agnes,” Garin said, looking past Lilac as he straightened. “You look rather upset.”
Agnes uncrossed her arms, her scowl deepening. She wiped at the corner of her eye. “Most unfortunately.”
“What’s the matter?” The tilt of Garin’s head was unmistakably predatory. A few of the maids retreated a couple steps, Marguerite’s face went pale. “Why were you crying?”
Only Agnes seemed to think he exuded concern. “It’s William. He was gone from the bed this morning with no warning, no note.”
“That’s odd. Has he gone off with your aid?”
“Aid?”
“Your own valet or servant.”
“We didn’t bring any of them. It’s just us, Will and I.”
Garin clicked his tongue. “That’s a shame. You know, Ambrosius has the habit of wandering off when he has much to ponder. Last night my misconduct was inexcusable,” he said with a small bow to the rest of the room. “Perhaps they’ve taken reprieve together. Gone on a walk through the grounds.” He glanced back at Lilac. “I might take Madame Agnes to look for her dear William. What do you think, Your Majesty?”
Lilac leered in his direction. She would’ve fought harder to stop him, had it been anyone else. “Perhaps you should go together to search for them.” The words were almost painful, like he’d stolen the breath from her lungs. “Some fresh air will be good for you both,” she added stiffly.
Agnes shot Lilac a look of annoyance, temporarily breaking from whatever trance he had her under.
“Shall we?” Garin offered his arm and a most charming smile. Looking flattered, the baroness took it.
“Enjoy your stroll,” Lilac offered, exhaling her unease.Don’t get caught.
“I hope you have a productive meeting, Your Majesty. Don’t you dare do anything rash, like start a war.”
Garin ushered Agnes out the door with all the poise and posture of a true noble as his command pivoted Lilac’s shoulders toward the staircase, her buzzing body following.
30
Riou removed his spectacles, breathing on them until they were fogged. Then, he took the lenses to his shirt before placing them back on his nose. “You mean two dozen.” Across the table, he saw John, fidgeting with the large white feather on his quill. “She means twodozen, surely.”
“Two hundred,” Lilac said, shoveling the second handful of hawthorn berries into her mouth, ignoring Piper’s disgusted open-mouthed stare from across the room. She didn’tintendon starting a war—one could definitely argue France started it for them—but she wasn’t sure what Garin’s brand of Sanguine magic would consider a motion of initiation. Lilac only knew they would be ready, come what may. And she required the ability to disobey his command if the need arose. They hadn’t worked against him in the coat closet, so she’d decided downing half the bag couldn’t hurt.
She hummed, satisfied despite the bittersweet aftertaste. Swiping her tongue across her teeth to dislodge the berry skins, then pulled the bag shut before tucking it back in her bosom. Exchanging a glance with John, she slid off the corner of her desk and straightened her stack of research tomes and manuscripts, where a few of the Accords notes she’d left behind remained tucked beneath them.
“Two hundred destriers,” Lilac repeated, pronouncing every syllable for clarity. “Half stored at the stables in Rennes and the other half here.”
