Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)(44)

“When will that be?” Sabine demanded. “He’s still got two more of those wretched bits of magic.”

“That might need to be rectified.”

I patted the pocket containing my seeds, the lump of the handkerchief containing them chasing away the momentary pang of unease.

“We need to assemble our council,” Marc said. “Fred, Marie, Tips, and whatever half-bloods he feels should be present. They need to be informed that our plan to take down Roland failed, but that Cécile, the twins, and Chris’s followers are working to get as many to safety as possible. We need to keep Trianon secure for those who are here and for those who will come.”

Sabine nodded. “I’ll fetch them here.”

As she turned to leave, Marc caught her arm. “You aren’t helpless in this, Sabine. Circumstance has put you in a position to make a difference, if you are willing.”

“I am,” she said. When she reached the door, she hesitated. “I’m very glad to have you back with us, Marc.”

My cousin waited until the door shut before turning to me. “Think faster, Tristan. We don’t have much time.”

I nodded once, then turned back to my puzzle.



* * *



They met in the council chambers – five of them, for Tips had brought Zoé. All of them glared at me until Marc came into the room. “Ignore him,” he said. “Tristan isn’t the reason why we are here.”

“Then I don’t have time for this.” Marie stood.

“My lady,” Marc said. “I’d ask that you reconsider how your time is best spent. Trianon is bursting at the seams with those who have lost their homes.”

She crossed her arms. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

Marc inclined his head. “I’ve no doubt that you do. But the fact remains that they need shelter, and you are in the best position to manage that process. The peerage, I expect, have empty rooms they could fill.”

“Then order them to open their doors.”

Marc leaned back in his chair. “You have a more deft touch. Better for them to delight in their own charity than resent being ordered about.” His gaze shifted. “Zoé will watch over your son.”

“I’m not leaving Aiden in the care of one of you creatures.”

Both Zoé and Tips stiffened, but Marc raised a calming hand. “Zoé’s power is formidable. If Trianon is attacked, she is capable of taking Aiden to safety. Can you claim as much?”

Marie’s jaw tightened.

“My lady, your grievance is with King Thibault. Please don’t allow your hatred of him to color the rest of us with the same brush. We are not him, and even if we were, you have a duty to your people.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, then left the room.

“Fred,” Marc continued. “I need you to send men out to bring back what grain and supplies you can in order to keep the city fed.”

“I’m not leaving Trianon’s walls undefended,” Cécile’s brother said, glancing my direction.

“Tips and his half-bloods will hold the wall,” Marc replied. “With my help.”

“Not happening,” Fred said. “I’m not delegating the defense of the city to a bunch of miners and chambermaids, never mind that they might just decide to abandon their posts halfway through the battle.”

That comment, I was quite certain, was directed at me.

“Then don’t,” Tips snapped. “Try defending yourselves if Angoulême’s followers come calling, and see how long you last.”

“Enough,” Sabine said. “Fred, you wanted these people in the city, so it’s your responsibility to take care of them. And you, sir,” she glared at Tips, “don’t forget that you came here looking for salvation as much as any of them.”

There were glares all around, but eventually all departed but for Marc and Sabine. There was an unexpected level of comfort between the two, as though they’d engaged in far more conversation than I’d been privy to. “What would you have me do?” she asked him.

“You’re doing it,” he said. “We need to have a unified front if we are to have any hope of making it through this war. They need to see that they are on the same side, and I think you can make that happen.”

“He’s not helping the cause,” she said, coming over to stand in front of me. I handed her my empty plate and walked away.

“This isn’t him,” Marc said. “You know that. They all know that.”

“It is so him,” she said. “It’s just a him that isn’t tempered by empathy.”

My cousin didn’t argue.

“I respect Tristan,” Sabine continued. “Sometimes I even like him. And I truly believe he loves Cécile, and for that, I can forgive his faults.” Staring at the plate, she set it on the table. “But damned if he isn’t the most entitled creature I’ve ever met.”

Marc laughed softly. “It’s a common trait amongst the nobility, human and troll alike.”

Her eyes flicked to him. “Not you.”

“Yes, well…” He turned, tugging his hood forward so that his face was obscured. “He had some advantages I did not.”