Page 75 of A Treachery of Swans

Both guards hesitate. They can clearly see the lie in the Regent’s words, but to disobey him would be treason.

They step forward. I wonder if Marie will fight, but as strong as she is, she cannot defeat two fully armed guards. She pulls her arms away from the guardsmen and strides for the exit with her head held high, forcing the guards to follow after her. It’s a small reclamation of power, but it leaves me breathless, my gut clenched painfully in regret.

“She’s impressive,” Regnault says quietly. His eyes glitter as he watches Marie be escorted away. “I can see why she turned your head. Now.” He holds up the Couronne, flutters his fingers along the rim with a resonanttap tap tap.“It is time, I believe.” He raises the crown toward his brow.

Immediately the Regent surges forward and snatches my father’s wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I get between them instantly, pointing Buttons at the Regent with a snarl. “Let him go.”

“It’s all right,” Regnault says, putting up a hand. He tilts his head innocently at the Regent. “Whatever do you mean?”

The Regent keeps his voice low, out of earshot of his guards. “I kept my side of the bargain. Now keep yours.”

My father gives the man a civil smile, but there’s a taunting edge to it. “I have kept my promise, have I not? I exposed Aimé’s true nature. I believe that accomplishes your goals.”

“You promised me the crown.”

“No, I promised you thethrone.Which you now have. I can’t sit upon it myself, after all. I need a royal puppet whose strings I can pull.”

“Youdare—” The Regent purples. “I should have known better than to treat with peasant filth!” He releases Regnault’s wrist and backs away, pointing. “Guards! Seize this man! He intends to steal our prince’s crown!”

Three things happen then at once: The remaining three guards rush forward, pointing their muskets at Regnault. I move to defend my father, Buttons raised. And Regnault places the Couronne du Roi on his head.

For a moment it seems as though the world hitches—like a caught breath, a missing puzzle piece slotting into place. Regnault’s eyes turn black as ink, molten gold gathering at their corners like tears.

He stretches out his hand toward the approaching guards, spell-threads trailing loosely from his fingertips and bunching between his fingers like cobwebs.

Beside the altar, the twin tarasque statues begin tomove.They leap forth from their pedestals, spitting out the braziers in their jaws, shattering the chains around their throats.

Then they charge.

The thuds of their metal feet echo throughout the chapel. Within an instant, one of the serpentine monsters leaps in front ofRegnault and me, while the other one stalks up to the guardsmen, its impossibly long fangs bared and dripping golden magic. A horrid screeching growl rises from its throat, like metal dragged over stone.

“What is this?” The Regent stumbles back, wide-eyed, as the statue herds him up the altar. The other statue does the same with the guards. One of the musketeers fires at the beast, but the shot bounces off its gilt shell.

“Not the monsters!” the Regent screams at him. “The sorcier, shoot the sorcier!”

Before I can react, another guard turns and shoots at my father.

I scream, but the shot never lands—before it can strike home, it erupts into a shower of black feathers. Regnault bares his teeth. “You truly thought it would be that easy?”

The threads around his fingers flare with new light. As if hearing an unspoken command, one of the tarasques lunges for the man with the gun, clamping its fangs around his arm. The man screams. The tarasque shakes its head like a hound, crushing bone, before unlatching its jaws again. The guard crumples to the ground.

“That was a warning,” Regnault says pleasantly, approaching the Regent. He runs his fingers down the older man’s throat before moving it to his shoulder, where it rests with casual menace. “Have you any more concerns about our bargain?”

The Regent swallows audibly. “N-no.”

“Good. Now, let us put your men to better use. I want them to hunt down that beast of a Dauphin and bring him back.Alive.Subdue him by any means necessary, but I need him breathing. The guardsman named Damien is also to be seized and returned to the Château for questioning. Oh, and send away the guests—tell them the Dauphin’sconditionis under control, but it has taken a heavy toll on him. The wedding, therefore, will not be taking place.”

“And what of Marie d’Odette?”

“Kill her.”

My heart slams into the pit of my stomach.“What?”

To my surprise, the Regent says the same. “No, we can’t,” he adds, side-eyeing the golden tarasques as if one might maul him for simply speaking. “We can’t afford to offend Auvigny—we need that province’s access to the sea. No… I have a better solution. Once I become king, I will marry her.”

I nearly gag at the mere thought. “Papa,” I interrupt, careful to keep my voice light, almost coy. I shutter away any emotion, any remorse, that I may feel at my next words. “Might I propose another alternative?”

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