Stolen Songbird(108)

I was silent. There was no mistaking his point.

“Magic,” he continued, “is what makes us superior. Any act that diminishes it is an abomination.”

“Except if such an act breaks the curse,” I retorted, my anger rising. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

“But it hasn’t.” He held out the rose. “So all you are is an abomination that has failed to serve any purpose.”

The rose slipped through his fingers. I gasped, diving forward to catch it before it smashed against the paving stones. At my touch, it blossomed a dusky pink.

“You two thought you’d fooled everyone, didn’t you?”

I stared up at him from my knees, fear filling me.

“And perhaps you did. Everyone, that is, except me.” Reaching down, he took hold of my arm and pulled me to my feet. “I confess, you played the part of a hellion-bride quite well. And Tristan, well the boy has been playing something he is not for so long that sometimes I wonder if he remembers who he really is.” He paused, considering his words. “You would know by now that all children receive an identical education until they are ten years of age, at which time they are educated by their respective guilds. Builders’ Guild, Artisans’ Guild, Bakers’ Guild, Miners’ Guild, and so on and so forth.”

“Make your point, Your Grace.” I tried to jerk my arm out of his grip, but his hand was as implacable as a vice.

“My daughter, Ana?s, she isn’t guild-educated. No, I saw early in her life that she had a mind fit for a particular purpose. She is military educated, you see. She is strategic, ruthless, loyal, but…” He sighed. “She is still female – her emotions make her weak.”

I fought to keep fury from rising to my face, but it was difficult.

The Duke leaned on his cane. His position and the way he watched my movements reminded me of a vulture. “Her emotions are what betrayed her. For weeks, she has sobbed herself to sleep every night, and Ana?s is not a girl prone to such behavior. There could be only one cause – that her dear Tristan had abandoned her for another girl. His wife.”

I scowled. “That isn’t what you said yesterday, Your Grace. Unless, of course, you were lying?”

His laughter echoed through the courtyard, mocking me from every corner. “Is that what I said? Are you sure?”

Even though I already knew the truth, my heart still sunk to know how thoroughly he had played me. Like a finely tuned instrument.

“A wise man once wrote that the truth spoken may not be the truth you think you hear. I would have thought you’d learned that by now, little bird.”

“Leave her alone, Angoulême.”

The soles of Marc’s boots smacked against the stairs as he leapt down them two at a time. Striding across the courtyard, he stepped between the Duke and me. “He doesn’t want you anywhere near her.”

“I haven’t harmed her in any way. I am well aware of His Majesty’s laws.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t intend to.” To my amazement, Marc shoved Angoulême backwards. “Leave, now.”

The Duke’s face darkened. “You dare lay a hand on me, you twisted wretch! I outrank you. In more ways than one.”

“I’m under Tristan’s orders not to let you anywhere near the Lady Cécile, and last time I checked, Your Grace, the heir to the throne outranked you. In more ways than one.”

I felt the air around me grow hot, their magic manifesting and drawing together. “I’m not afraid to die, Angoulême,” Marc said softly. “Are you?”

“You think you can best me, boy?”

Marc laughed. “No, but I think I can hold you back long enough for Tristan to get here. And I know he can best you. He’ll tear your body into so many pieces that what’s left won’t amount to more than a smear of blood on the street.”

Angoulême paled. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Are you sure enough to tempt fate?” Marc’s voice was chilly.

Without another word, the Duke spun on heels, hurrying up the steps and out of sight.

I tried to calm my racing heart. “He won’t forgive you for this,” I said.

“I’ll add it to the list of things he’ll never forgive me for,” Marc muttered. “Are you all right?”

“Fine – I think he was just trying to scare me. And send a message to Tristan.”