One Dark Throne (Three Dark Crowns #2)(82)

“I’m still sorry that you thought I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry I agreed to marry your sister,” he says, and nods to Mirabella over Arsinoe’s shoulder. “How are you, Mira? Holding steady?”

“Just fine,” Mirabella says, and Arsinoe blushes. All her words to Billy have been overheard. But what does it matter? She cannot hold back, and Mirabella is apparently thrilled, leaning toward them with her knees tucked up like a child hearing a bedtime story.

“Billy,” Arsinoe whispers, her voice so low that even he can hardly hear, “Jules’s aunt Caragh and Madrigal are in the city. Look for them at the stables across from the Highbern or in the southern forest by the riverbank. They’ll be waiting for us, with Braddock. Get word to Cait and Ellis. They have to come to help Jules and Joseph, if nothing else.”

“I will,” he promises. He hurries away, and Arsinoe wants to scream. She grabs the bars, teeth clenched so she cannot beg him to stay. But Billy stops and comes back.

“I love you,” he says suddenly. “I should have told you. Maybe I never knew. But I do. And you love me, too. Say it.”

For a moment, Arsinoe just blinks. Then she laughs.

“Mainlander. You can’t make me say it.”

“Then say it when I get you out of here. Promise.”

“I promise.” Her eyes flicker toward the ceiling. “What’s happening up there, in the Council chamber?”

Billy’s eyes flicker toward the ceiling as well.

“No news yet. Maybe that’s a good thing.” He lingers. “I don’t want to leave you here. Neither of you.”

“I know. But you have to, for now. Find out what you can about Jules and Joseph,” Arsinoe says. “Don’t leave them without help.”

“I won’t.” He slips his fingers through the bars to touch her cheek again. “You will be out before the end of the day.”

Natalia stands carefully still in the Council chamber, waiting for the High Priestess to arrive. Carefully still so as not to resemble a confused and stupid bird, like Sara Westwood.

“Queen Mirabella should be placed in a secured room in the East Tower,” Sara says. Her voice is shrill, and it is not the first time she has suggested the move. “She does not belong in the cells!”

“The queens are safe and well-guarded,” Lucian Marlowe replies. “The sooner we sit down calmly, the sooner a resolution may be made.” He looks to Natalia for help, and she stares him down. What a fool to try to reason with a Westwood. He ought to grab Sara and shove her through the door.

And where is Luca? High Priestess Luca, who takes forever to get anywhere and uses her old legs as an excuse. But everyone knows she is fast and smooth as a snake when she wishes to be.

It seems another age passes before they hear the swishing of Luca’s robes, and she arrives flanked by the red-headed giantess.

“Finally,” Genevieve whispers as she ushers the priestesses into the chamber. “All are here, and the queens in their cells.” She somehow manages to sound as if they have gotten their way. As if any of this has gone their way.

Natalia is the last to be seated, and she does so with grace, though everyone in this room she would gleefully throw out a window.

“This is unthinkable,” Antonin says, staring down at his hands. “So many in the arena heard their words today. As if there were not enough whispers about these queens already.”

“Whispers?” Margaret Beaulin interjects. “The whispers have risen to a roar. And long before this. The whispers started over little undead Katharine. They are not proper queens, the people say. There is something wrong with them.”

“Do not speak this way about the queens,” Sara Westwood hisses. “They are sacred!”

“Enough words.” Cousin Lucian rubs his temples with long fingers. “The only thing that matters is what we do. And whatever is done must be done publicly. Katharine must execute them herself. With no interference seen from us.”

“Executed? That has not been decided! Queen Mirabella has committed no crime. She was not part of this naturalist stunt!”

“It does not matter,” snarls Genevieve. “You heard her. She refuses to kill Arsinoe. And a queen who refuses to kill has committed treason.”

“Against who?”

“Against the island!”

Sara looks to the High Priestess for help. But Luca looks only at Natalia and Natalia back at her, as if they are the only ones who matter. Because they are.

“I would speak to the High Priestess alone,” Natalia says.

Apprehension flutters through the Council. It passes back and forth between her relatives in furtive glances until Genevieve is forced to speak.

“Sister. This decision is for us all.”

“Indeed. And after Luca and I have finished talking, you will all agree with what we decide. Now go.”

Genevieve closes her mouth. She shoves herself away from the table and voices her displeasure by loudly ruffling her skirt. She leaves, and the others follow her out.

“Council members,” Luca says before they close the doors, “do remember to quiet your voices in the halls. The guards and servants still have ears.”

Renata Hargrove scowls, and the heavy black doors thump shut.

“How is it possible that Genevieve and I share the same blood?” Natalia asks, and sighs heavily. “Shall I call for tea?”