Page 28 of The Rebel and the Rose
‘Which one is it?’ hissed Val as they slipped through the front gate.
‘The big blue one,’ Bibi hissed back. ‘She even drew a diagram for us.’
‘Good,’ said Theo. ‘I pity the fool who tries to break into House Armand without a cleverly thought out—’
‘Then you are a fool indeed, Theodore Branch.’ A familiar croaky voice made them jump.
‘Madame Fontaine?’ Bibi whispered. ‘Are you out here somewhere?’
‘Sabine Fraser, you shameless sneak. I taught you better than this.’
‘This is exactly what you taught us,’ Val piped up. ‘Sneaking. Spying. General subterfuge.’
‘Which is why you little miscreants should know I intercept all mail that comes and goes at House Armand.’
At their shared looks of alarm, the old crone cackled. The sound scattered a nightingale in the back garden.
‘Well, now I feel like a prize idiot,’ muttered Bibi.
‘You should.’ The clouds parted, and a slant of moonlight danced across the garden. They saw her then, as clear as a spectre. The old bat was sitting on a windowsill, smoking her pipe.
She eyed the space where they were standing, like she could spy them through their Shade-coated cloaks. Impossible. And yet… ‘Give it up, then. I don’t have all night.’
Theo was the first to remove his cloak. ‘Caught,’ he said, with his usual good-natured charm.
Val went next. Then Bibi, freeing her spill of long red hair. ‘It’s good to see you, Madame—’
‘You lie like a lazy cat, Sabine. I read your note, remember?Youare not here to see me at all.’
Bibi knew better than to correct her. She was, in fact, chiefly here to see Alaina.
Fontaine rolled her eyes, then gestured with her walking stick, dismissing her.
Tossing an awkward smile over her shoulder, Bibi promptly scooted off round the side of the building, leaving the three of them to deal with Fontaine.
Seraphine was still considering whether or not to remove her cloak when Fontaine blew a ring of smoke directly at her.
‘If you think I can’t see the fire in your eyes, you’re a witless wonder, Seraphine Marchant. There is no disguise that can hide you from me now.’
Sera cast off her cloak. ‘Better?’
‘Not particularly,’ said Fontaine. ‘I’d rather you weren’t here at all.’
‘I came to see you.’
‘No shit.’ She beckoned them closer. They stopped a cane’s length from her. Just in case she tried to swat them. Fontaine took a long drag of her pipe. The smoke was sweet and cloying, and it made Sera’s stomach turn. ‘Well? Get to it, turncoats.’
Without preamble, Sera said, ‘What do you know about Saint Oriel’s final prophecy?’
Fontaine’s brows rose. ‘What makes you think I know anything about it?’
So she was going to toy with them first. Great.
‘You’re a descendant of Oriel Beauregard,’ said Val flatly. ‘All the years I was at House Armand, you never let me forget it. I swear I used to think you could read my mind.’
Fontaine smirked.
‘The cards you play with,’ said Sera. ‘They tell you things.’
