Page 68 of A Treachery of Swans

At last, at long last, he meets my eyes. “Because I should have done it long ago.”

Something inside me crumples. I take a step back, my knees going weak, and the only thing holding me up for a moment is the guard clutching my wrists. I look to Marie almost instinctively, seeking out some little comfort. But when she sees me watching, her face shutters. She looks away. Regret squeezes my chest. I’d expectedthis—I’dwantedthis—but it still aches to know that moments ago I’d held her in my arms, her cheek against mine and her delicate hands curled around my shoulders. Now I’ve lost her.

Like Aimé, like my brother.

If Regnault were here, I know what he’d say.You should have known better, little owl.

“That’s enough melodrama, I think.” The Regent’s harsh voice cuts through the brief, heavy silence. He turns to his guards. “Take the sorcier girl away.Discreetly.”

The guard holding me nods and adjusts his grip. I hear the clink of something metal being procured. Behind us, the Regent says, “I believe the wedding can now proceed as planned?”

At the same time, the cold kiss of iron presses against my wrists, and I freeze, an animal panic seizing me. I try to push through the feeling, focusing instead on Aimé’s response.

“I… I don’t know if that’s appropriate,” the Dauphin says shakily.

Snick.A shackle closes cruelly around my left wrist, making my pulse jump. I force a breath through clenched teeth as the Regent responds to Aimé. “Don’t be a fool. We have guests from across the kingdom and beyond who have come to witness the event. The weddingmustgo on.”

“But what about everything Marie has been through?” Aimé argues. Out the corner of my eye, I see him reach for her, but she hardly reacts.

Then—snick.The second shackle closes.

“I think Mademoiselle d’Auvigny must agree with me.” There is a vicious sneer in the Regent’s voice. “After all, I doubt her family would survive another scandal.”

Oh, thesnake.Unable to help myself, I jerk against my new restraints, wishing I could launch myself at the horrid man. Unfortunately, allmy attempt earns me is the bite of cold metal against my wrists and a warning growl from the guard gripping me.

He begins to lead me away, but not fast enough.

Because I still hear Marie d’Odette speak up, her voice faint and devastated. “I agree with the Regent. The wedding must go on.”

I am thrown into the dungeons.

The cell is tight and chilly, the stone ground flecked with straw. It is bleak and punishing, cruelly mocking—the perfect reflection of my own internal thoughts. I crash to my knees on cold stone as the guard locks the bars behind me. I struggle to my feet and rush up to him.

“Wait!”

He scowls at me from beneath his mask, tucking the keys away. “What do you want?”

“I’m innocent. Please, you must believe me.” It’s humiliating to beg like this, but I have no other choice. “Get the Dauphin, please, and tell him I can explain everything—or Marie; at least let me speak to Marie—”

“The Dauphin and his betrothed will be busy preparing for tomorrow’s wedding. Afterward they may deign to grace you with their presence. If not, perhaps one of them will attend your execution, sorciere.”

The word sounds wrong coming from the mouth of a guard, all splintered and twisted like a badly broken bone.

“Please.” I grip the bars so tightly, the rough metal pricks my skin. “It was Anne de Malezieu. She was a sorcier too.Sheconjured the beast that killed the King.”

The guard laughs harshly. “You may have convinced the Dauphin there was a beast, but no one else believes it. A beast, in the Château? We would have seen it.”

My stomach lurches. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m no idiot. You sliced up the King, and then you sliced up the Queen, and we’re fortunate you didn’t manage to get to the Dauphin before you were stopped. No beast was seen, and so there was no beast.” He bangs his knuckles on the bars and strolls away, whistling to himself.

I sink back on my heels, burying my head in my hands. No one else saw the beast. How is that possible? Worse, does this mean the creature is still freely roaming near the Château? Could it return to wreak more havoc, even without the Step-Queen commanding it?

I crawl into the corner, shivering. The guards have stripped me of my cloak, jacket, and boots, leaving me in nothing but a loose shirt and breeches. Some primal part of me had taken over, and I had tried to fight them, landing myself with several impressive bruises from steel-toed boots. The wound in my side has started to ooze blood again, staining my shirt.

Night crawls in, dragging its cloak of ragged shadows as it scrapes fingers of rime across the floor. I blow into my hands, trying to keep them warm. A few more hours, and Marie will be walking across a colorless chapel in a dress of purest white, into a marriage that will clip what remains of her wings. What will she do now? Will she try to clear my name with Aimé as we planned? Or have I lost her entirely after admitting my betrayal?

And what has happened to Regnault? Has Damien betrayed him too? Will he still try to steal the Couronne without me?

---