Page 55 of A Treachery of Swans

“Save your lies for my foolish son,” the Step-Queen growls. “And remember this: I am watching you. One step out of line, Marie d’Odette, and I will ensure you’re sent back to Auvigny in shame.”

By that evening the Step-Queen has made good on her promise. I catch guards shadowing my every step, trailing me around the Château like phantoms. I curse my incaution. I should be better than this—Regnault would be disappointed in me.

But I refuse to be outsmarted.

I hatch a new plan. A plan that, to my great disappointment, will need the assistance of the one girl I cannot seem to stay away from.

SCENE XXThe Lake

A Starry Night

Three days have passed since my last turbulent parting with Marie d’Odette. Seething with irritation, I decide that it is perhaps best to offer her an olive branch, so I filch a few pastries from the kitchens and take a cloak along with me. It’s a surprisingly pleasant night, clear and bright, and the lake is perfectly still, dusted with the reflections of stars. I find Marie in her usual spot, watching the lake’s swans as they slumber nearby.

I expect her to meet me with some level of aloofness—or perhaps even anger, considering how I stormed off on her last time. But when she sees me again, she merely tilts her head to the side, eyes bright. “I knew you couldn’t stay away for long.”

My heart gives an excited skip at the sound of her voice. I scowl. “Don’t be so pleased, princess. I need you for something.”

“Of course you do,” she says serenely. “How’s your arm?”

“Still attached.”

She laughs, and it sounds like spring rain, pure and sweet. I want to gather it up in my palms, feel it trickle between my fingers. I want to forget I ever heard it.

Mothers, Ihate her.

“Odile—” Marie begins, her voice growing serious.

She’s going to say something about our argument, and it’s not something I want to talk about. “Forget it,” I say. “I cursed you. It’s your right to irritate me to the ends of the earth.”

She shakes her head. “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t… You’re not just a puzzle. That’s not how I think of you.”

For some reason, her words make my cheeks prickle with heat. “I said, forget it!” I snap, loud enough that one of the swans twitches awake.

Marie flinches back, startled. “My apologies.”

“No, it’s…” I run my hand over my face and then remember the pastries I’ve wrapped up in paper and tucked beneath my cloak. “I brought you something. An olive branch.” I set the pastries down beside her, utterly refusing to make eye contact.

I hear the rustle as Marie unfolds the paper, then her delighted gasp. “Oh, Odile, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten a pastry?”

“I thought it was a staple of the noblesse diet,” I say resentfully. “It’s all I’ve been eating. I’m surprised my blood hasn’t turned into powdered sugar yet.”

That elicits another laugh from her, and the effect it has on my body is so physical, I can imagine it being found protruding from my innards if I am ever dissected. She picks up a small, somewhat crushed cream puff, takes a careful bite, and swallows.

“You know, when I’m a swan, there are some instincts I can’t resist,” she says.

I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been living off pondweed.”

“You’re joking.”

The mournful look she gives me reveals that she is decidedly not joking. “My human brain tells me it’s disgusting. My bird brain tells me it’s delicious.”

I snort at that, then quickly cover my mouth. “Sorry. It’s not funny. I, uh, did this to you.”

She glances at me sideways, her smile small and fond.

“What?” I demand.

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