Stolen Songbird (The Malediction Trilogy, #1)(56)



Cécile said nothing, only scuffed the toe of her shoe against the marble floor.

Sweat broke out on Damia’s brow. “The silly girl went so far as to try to purchase Lessa from me, which everyone knows is against the law because…” She broke off as my father shifted his weight. “If she had only known…” she stammered.

Cécile coughed and Damia’s face twitched. “The law does not account for your refusal to sell Lessa to Lady Victoria.” She lifted her chin, meeting my father’s gaze. “The Lady Damia’s assault against her servant was malicious and unjust, and an obvious abuse of the power granted her by Your Majesty’s laws.”

My father cocked one eyebrow.

“I was rash,” Damia blurted out. “Lessa did not deserve punishment, and I find that I have reconsidered my request that Lord Marc arrange for her disposal. She is a favored servant, and Her Highness’s interference has prevented a loss I most undoubtedly would have regretted.”

Cécile inclined her head. “I am glad to have been of assistance.”

Damia’s lips tightened with suppressed fury. “Then we can consider the matter closed.”

“I can’t see why not.”

Damia curtseyed deeply. “By your leave, Your Majesty?”

I cleared my throat. “One question before you leave, Damia.” Rising from my chair, I walked towards Cécile, took her by the wrist, and pushed up her sleeve. Her forearm was marred with an angry red welt. Fury surged through me, and it was an effort to keep from showing it on my face.

“I don’t suppose you would know anything about this… Your Grace?” I asked.

“It was not intentional,” she snapped. “The fool of a girl got between Lessa and me. The blow was not intended for her.”

“I’m quite certain I don’t give a damn about your intentions,” I said quietly, raising Cécile’s arm so my father could see the mark.

“It seems you are the one needing an education in our laws, Lady Damia,” he said, settling his bulk down on a chair. “Allow me to bring you up to date. Following my decision to bond my dearest son and heir to this fragile human girl, I decreed that anyone found to have directly or indirectly harmed her in any way would be subject to severe punishment.”

Damia looked ill. “It was not my intention to harm her,” she repeated.

My father leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “Intentions mean little when the results are the same. Your actions jeopardized the welfare of my heir and, as such, they cannot go unpunished.”

The Dowager Duchesse dropped to her knees. “Mercy, Your Majesty. I am but an old woman.”

My father snorted at her pitiful display and opened his mouth to say something, when Cécile interrupted. “Your Majesty, if I may?”


I winced, but my father only nodded, brow curling with curiosity. I wasn’t curious – I was nervous. Cécile had managed to keep control of this entire exchange through silence, but she clearly intended to have her say.

“I do not care to see any more violence – I have had my fill today,” she said, turning to Lessa who had remained kneeling on the floor this entire time. “If you insist on punishing the Lady Damia for her actions, I would prefer that it came in the form of compensation.”

My father rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his chin up. “I’m listening.”

“I have been led to believe that the laws prohibit the purchase of one’s own relations, regardless of whether they are related by blood or marriage. Is that correct?”

I grew very still. She was treading on dangerous territory.

“You are correct.”

“Illegal to purchase, but what about to own? Say, if one received the individual as a gift?”

A faint smile rose on my father’s lips. “A loophole, I believe. Is that what you want then?”

Cécile nodded.

My father rose to his feet. “There you have it Damia. You will give us Lessa.” He paused, tilting his head in thought. “Or you will give us your head. Your choice.”

The Dowager Duchesse made no attempt to hide her fury. She had gambled heavily and lost. To a human. I smiled inwardly.

“I’ll have her papers delivered in the morning,” she hissed, then stormed out of the room.

Lessa straightened, turning to watch her former mistress leave. She did not, I noticed, look particularly pleased with this turn of events. Cécile may have thought she was doing her a favor, but Lessa seemed to think otherwise.

My father flicked his fingers in Cécile’s direction. “You can go.” She hurried out, Marc and the twins trailing after her. I started to follow them, but my father held up his hand. “You stay.”

I waited silently as my father contemplated Lessa, but as to what he was thinking, I could not say. Sighing deeply, he raised a hand and a dark sphere encircled her, blocking off both sight and sound.

“I’ve always hated that manipulative old bat,” he muttered. “It was high time one of her plots turned back around to bite her on the ass. Although I didn’t expect Cécile to be the one doing the biting.”

I made a non-committal sound.

“I hate that whole bloody family,” he continued, pouring a glass of wine.

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