Page 175 of House of Roots and Ruin
Alex ducked, trying to free himself from Viktor’s grasp. “Father!”
“Father,” Viktor mimicked, pitching his voice too high. “Help me. Save me!” He pantomimed something falling from a great height before smashing into the ground.
My blood ran cold as I realized his meaning.
“Alex didn’t fall from the balcony, did he?” I asked Gerard. “He was pushed over.” I turned to Viktor. “By you.”
“Julien helped too,” Viktor admitted as Alex’s mouth droppedopen.
“Only because you were so angry.” Julien glanced back to Gerard. “You’ve no idea how persistent he is in here,” he said, tapping his forehead. “It’s like being pulled about on puppet strings. Even when he’s far away, I can feel the cords tugging at me, slicing up all my insides and soft matter.”
“You could have killed me,” Alex said, aghast.
Viktor rolled his head about, stretching his neck. “That actuallywasthe point. We didn’t know you were so…hardy. He still is, too, you know, Father? We’ve been dropping all sorts of things into his teas, his nightcaps, but nothing has stopped him yet.”
“The muscle spasms he’s been having,” I gasped, realizing what they’d done. “You’ve been drugging him?”
Viktor grinned.
Alex’s fingers dug into the arms of his chair. “Why? Why would you— What have I ever done to you?”
“It was never you. It’s always been to punish us.” Gerard sighed. “After the first fire, Dauphine and I sent away the nursemaids, the extra hands. We told everyone Viktor and Julien had stopped breathing in their sleep one night. We presented you as a single child.”
“There it is,” Viktor said cheerfully. “They only had eyes for you. The unproblematic favored son. The bright, shining light of the Laurent family. Arina, how I hated you.” He brightened. “But no longer. Now I see, now I understand. Now I know exactly who’s responsible for everything. You”—he pointed to Gerard—“and that woman.”
“Mama is no longer with us,” Julien reminded him.
A funny little laugh fell from Viktor’s lips. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot—my deepest condolences on your recent loss, Father. ButI suppose you’ve no need of coaching on how to grieve the death of a lover. You’ve gone through so many over the years.”
“You…,” I murmured, finding my voice. “You were the ones who poisoned the wine.”
“Sadly, no. Someone beat us to it.” Viktor’s head swung to Gerard, his eyes sparkling and sly. “Any thoughts on who could have done something so heinous?”
I felt like a battering ram had struck my sternum, knocking every bit of breath from me. I stumbled to the second armchair, sinking into its tufted leather.
Alex’s eyebrows furrowed together, impossibly wounded. “Father, what are they saying?”
“It…it was an accident,” Gerard said, his voice stripped bare and strained. He’d been so stoic before, riding out his pain behind a hardened façade, but it crumbled now as Viktor and Julien blew it apart, one crack at a time. “Verity, you must believe me. That wine was never meant for you. Or Dauphine. I swear it upon my very life.”
The room fell into stunned silence.
Gerard had drugged the wine.
Gerard had poisoned us.
Poisoned Dauphine.
Murdered Dauphine.
I tried to wrap my mind around it. Around that afternoon. “If the wine wasn’t meant for us, whowasit for? It was there for someone, already poisoned…for who?”
Julien tilted his head. “Yes, Papa. Who?”
Gerard took a shaky breath. “That’s a very long story.”
Viktor held up his hand, gesturing about the room. “And yet, we’ve nothing here but time. Tell the Brothers Laurent a good tale. Shall we cuddle under some blankets and douse the lamps?”
Beside me, Alex remained silent, staring at his father with a look as sharp as granite. I could feel the waves of fury radiating from him.
