Grave Mercy (His Fair Assassin #1)(90)

“The French regent has plenty of other spies who will inform her soon enough, and they will undoubtedly use that as an excuse to invade.”

There is a knock on the chamber door just then. Duval and I exchange a glance, then he goes to answer it.

It is Captain Dunois, looking uncomfortable as he nods to Duval. “I must speak with you. Alone,” he adds, shooting me a glance. Duval waves his hand in dismissal. “She will only listen at the door.”

Captain Dunois’s lips twitch ever so slightly. “The council continued to meet after you left,” he explains. “The news is not good. They feel that, whether by accident or by design, your counsel and influence have placed the duchess’s life in grave danger.”

If Duval feels any pain at being stabbed in the back by the council, he does not show it on his face. I set my wine down, afraid I might spill it or hurl it into the fireplace in outrage. “On what do they base this accusation?”

Dunois looks even more uncomfortable. “On the attempt made on the duchess’s life this evening.”

“How is that Duval’s fault?”

“I can speak for myself,” Duval mutters.

Dunois ignores us both. “They believe it is the inevitable result of all the decisions and moves Duval and Anne have made so far. Consorting with the known traitors Runnion and Martel, bringing an assassin to court without informing anyone, negotiating a betrothal agreement with Nemours without authorization that resulted in his death. And finally, encouraging the duchess to publicly repudiate one of our most powerful barons. Not to mention your mother’s planned treachery. They are still not convinced you are not part of it.”

Duval does not react to this long list of crimes until he hears the last one. "Who brought that up?” he asks sharply.

“Marshal Rieux.”

Duval buries his head in his hands, but whether in defeat or frustration, I cannot tell.

“Surely the duchess or the chancellor spoke on Duval’s behalf?” I ask. "Explained the true nature of his actions?”

“The duchess did,” Dunois replies, “but since the issue before the council was whether Duval was exercising undue influence over her, no one listened.”

“But what of Chancellor Crunard?” I ask. “It was largely his decision to install me in Duval’s household. He also knows the reason Duval was meeting with Runnion and Martel. And he voted for the Nemours alliance rather than the d’Albret one. Did he not explain any of that?”

“Not in detail, no. He argued forcefully on Duval’s behalf, but the others would not be swayed.”

"What do they plan to do?” Duval asks.

“They think to arrest you in the morning. At the chancellor’s suggestion, they are considering putting you under house arrest rather than sending you to a prison cell. we will meet first thing in the morning and take a vote.”

The rank unfairness of this has me gaping at Dunois. “How can they ignore all those who have moved so openly against the duchess but lock up Duval based on a thin web of unfounded accusations?”

Dunois glances uneasily at Duval. “Because they feel powerless and wish to take some action, even if it is not the right one.”

when Duval speaks again, it is as if he dredges up the words from some great hollow pit inside himself. “And that is the true danger,” he says. “They will think they have addressed the threat when they have not. whoever planned that attack will be free to act again.” He looks up and meets Dunois’s gaze. “Thank you for the warning.” Something solid and bittersweet passes between them.

when Dunois leaves, Duval rises to his feet and begins pacing in front of the fireplace. I wait for him to speak. when he doesn’t, I cannot keep silent. "Why did the chancellor not explain the reasons behind your actions to the council?”

Duval shrugs. “He is a wily old fox and plays a deep game. Perhaps he did not want the others to see his own hand in this and cause them to direct their accusations and suspicions his way. who would be left to see to Anne’s safety then? Or perhaps he simply knew he was greatly outnumbered and did not wish to fight a lost cause.”

“It was he who told me of your breaking your oath,” I blurt out.

Duval stops pacing and snaps up his head. “He told you of that? when?”

I shrug. "When I was in his office after the meeting of the estates.”

“And yet you said nothing.”

I shrug again, not sure I can explain my reasoning. Not even to myself. “I did not ask you because it was clear that he wanted me to.”

Duval barks out a laugh. “My little rebel.”

I ignore the small flush of pleasure his words bring. “But it also seemed to me that I had no right to ask you of your saint when I have refused to tell you anything of mine.”

The look he gives me is long and considering.

“And,” I am compelled to add, “the duchess herself told me of the incident. But later.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, when I was tending to her after d’Albret’s attack.”

Duval’s eyes stay on mine a long moment before he pulls himself away and heads for the chessboard. I join him there and together we look down at the meager forces left protecting the white queen.

"What will happen if they remove you?” I ask.