Page 7 of Disillusioned
No one in the room had seemed to actually believe the arm was a gift from the vampires before Armand killed himself, but it was now clear some sort of magic was at play. “He had many enemies,” she said, doing her best to force the tremble from her voice as she stared into the fire. “He and Vivien live with the back of their estate surrounded by the Low Forest, and they proved to be traitorous to the crown. Who knows what trouble they were in, what vendettas were cast against them of their own doing.”
It was so quiet, she heard her father exhale before speaking. “We cannot hide the deaths of the duke and duchess.”
She turned. The guards stood motionless around Armand’s lifeless body. “I said nothing of the sort. In his madness, Sinclair murdered and dismembered his mother. Armand and his driver came here to request an audience and deliver the terrible news.”
Perane approached from the corner, huddled over his rosary. “But Your Majesty, others witnessed them enter the bailey in that state.”
“Good. Grief is a terrible thing, isn’t it? It can make people do things.” She descended the stairs, preparing to leave the room, but her father beckoned her to the corner of the desk.
“What about the vampires?” Henri asked quietly.
“What of them? We have no proof. No bite marks.”
“But they were certainly spelled; you cannot deny that.” When she didn’t respond, he glanced to their left, to the desk, where Lilac refused to bring her gaze. “What do you want done with that?”
“I want it gone.”
One of the guards gingerly retrieved the limb and placed it back into its bag. Only after the guard exited through the courtyard door could she breathe again. She was distantly aware of Henri demanding everyone in the room swear their secrecy—that nothing of this would be spoken, and a public announcement of their death would be revisited post-investigation. Kemble, the last to leave for the keep along with John, muttered that she suspected there was not a drop of blood left in the limb due to its coloring. She left, promising she’d be back with some of the staff to tidy the room before lunch.
Now alone with her father, Lilac felt his gaze heavy on her. Face red, the lump in her throat the only thing holding back tears, she sidestepped him and walked toward the door she’d come through.
“You’re still leaving this evening, aren’t you?”
“Yes. There will not be any changes to my plans.”
There was a sloshing of liquid as he slipped the flask hanging from his belt; she couldn’t tell earlier if he’d been drinking prior to Armand’s arrival, but if he had, he was certainly well sobered by now.
“You’re going to buy a dress?”
At his tone, Lilac turned around. “I am. Mother and I agreed it would be a fine opportunity for me to find a gown for my coronation ball from the new shop in Paimpont.”
“She did not agree. You told her, and she vehemently protested.”
“That may be true, but the conversation I recall ended in me standing by my decision to visit the seamstress.”
“It’s a haberdasher.”
“Her father was the haberdasher,” she reminded him for the second time since she’d informed him of her plans in the middle of the week. “She kept the business name, having inherited the haberdashery from her father and grandfather. She’s a clothier, and fashions mother’s new hats and gowns as well.”
Henri stared at her, his eyes rising to her head. “They’rewigs.”
Lilac raised her arms to straighten the towering powdered construction Marguerite had started wearing and even forcing upon her, and shrugged.
Henri’s eye twitched. “You haven’tannounceda visit, have you?”
“No.” She glared, waiting for him to continue. “But I’m not changing my plans.”
“So you’ve said. But you shall bring a horseback guard.”
“One of our steeds would indicate royal travel.” She preferred not to bring an extra person that might end up being someone’s dinner, but she had expected this demand. It would be impossible to leave without a guard on her father’s watch.
“Then he will have a commoner’s horse or ride on the driver’s bench.But he isgoing.”
“Fine. I welcome him and his horse on my journey,” she ground out, determined this trip remain under her control. Her own planning.
Henri’s mouth drew into a hard line, and he stepped closer, placing his hands upon her shoulders. “Lilac.”
“Henri.”
