“I know,” I grit my teeth, “Mother will parade the thing and give an Academy Award-winning performance of being a proud grandparent. Only those closest to me know I don’t actually have an heir.”
“Your mother will do for now,” he nods. “But the Queen will want you back in court before long. She’s said as much to you. She’ll want Angie. You’ve put that off longer than anyone imagined you could.”
I scowl.
“The child will do for now as a placeholder, but Angie will not go to court — I’ll present one wife, and one wife only. I’ve already forewarned Mother that this child will go to Jaguar, once weaned. In the meantime, I’ll marry again.”
“How? When your wife is alive?”
“A rumour that she died in childbirth, or something to that effect,” I shrug. “To be honest I haven’t thought through the whole plan, I just needed to get the fuck away to clear my head.”
“You’re in the clear here,” he murmurs. “But how are you going to find your next wife if you’re hiding away in my cellars?” He looks up suddenly from the map, his eyes mischievous. “Going on The Games again?”
“Do you want me to throwyou into the fire?” I scowl.
9
I sit, my son on my lap, his eyes on mine as I hold his tiny, perfect feet in my hand, and adore his little toes.
‘Is Yin doing this with my little girl right now? Adoring her the way I worship her tiny brother? God, I hope so.’
I recall Eleanor’s words when she’d described losing her daughter as a template. She’d said it was a ‘secret pain held only by mothers.’ Now I know how she must have felt, how she still feels. I miss my daughter every minute of every day, and yet it too is a secret pain, one I can never share and must bear alone. Tears spring to my eyes as they do so often of late, myhormones all out of whack and my nerves still frayed from all that’s happened.
“May I?” Eleanor says gently, reaching over and indicating she’d like to hold my son.
Inside, I’m railing. I don’t like anyone taking my baby. But I nod and hand him over. Apart from the nanny, Eleanor’s the only one I see, and I want to encourage her to continue visiting, to build a bond with my boy. I know that having a wetnurse makes me a little more dispensable, a lot more, really. I’m secretly hopeful that no matter what happens to me when Falcon returns, Eleanor will love my little Tiger enough to protect him. And if Jag doesn’t want him, she’ll ensure he’s looked after, somewhere, somehow.
As she cuddles him, smiling at his peaceful expression, I broach the subject that’s been on my mind ever since I learned how to track Viper and satisfied myself that he was still far from here.
“Eleanor, I know this is going to sound strange, but I have a favour to ask.”
“Go on,” she says quietly, her eyes still on her grandson.
“I need to knowif Jag is OK.”
Her expression hardens as she looks up at me.
“Please,” I whisper.
Her eyes narrow slightly as she answers.
“Falcon has made a vow to kill him if he ever sees him again. As far as I know that has not yet occurred.”
“Oh.”
‘Kill him? Even if Falcon doesn’t murder Jag, I know he’ll never forgive our affair, even if he ever found out the truth behind it and his brother’s role. He won’t forgive Jag and he won’t forgive what I did to their friendship. And even if he could everforgive either of us, which he won’t, there’s still the matter of his hidden daughter.’
‘Secrets upon secrets.’
“Is that all you wish to know?” Eleanor snaps.
She raises one eyebrow and I’m again reminded of what Yin said — that the woman before me is a master manipulator, must surely be, to have survived this long in such a world holding all the confidences she does.
“No,” I straighten my shoulders and look her in the eye. “I’d like to phone him.”
“Out of the question.”
‘Of course. I’m technically dead or dying. Can’t have a zombie calling from the castle. Can’t have any whiff of intrigue reach the court to thwart Falcon’s plans or title.’