An Affair of Poisons(35)
“Do you like what you see, poisoner?” Louis’s nasally voice drones from across the chamber.
I jolt and avert my gaze. “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”
Louis’s laugh is harsh and tinny. “You’re practically devouring my bastard brother with your eyes. If you’d like, you can take him off our hands. He would be quite useful in your line of work, with all of his kitchen experience.”
Josse grinds his teeth so hard the muscles near his temple jump. Marie glares at Louis. “Enough,” she snaps.
“What?” Louis says. “Can I not speak the truth? He’s no prince. He’s a kitchen boy. Our father never approved of him, so I see no reason why I should.”
Josse’s eyes flick up, full of fire. “I didn’t want the king’s approval. Though there’s no denying who he’d find more competent now. At least I’m trying! You just sit there and complain while the Shadow Society takes your city. Even the poisoner is more useful.” He flings a hand in my direction. I know he’s trying to cut Louis, but still I flinch, hating that word. Hating what I’ve done. Hating that no matter how many times I prove myself, I will never step out of Mother’s shadow.
“You will regret those words, brother,” the dauphin spits out.
Josse’s laugh is scornful and vicious. “What do you plan to do? Bind me with your silk ribbons? Batter me with your red-heeled slippers? Or, I know, smother me with your ratted wiglet?”
Louis’s cheeks blaze and his mouth bobs open and closed. “I demand silence,” he stammers at last.
“Gladly.” Josse stretches out on his back and slams his tricorne hat over his face. Marie curls into a ball on her side. I long to follow suit. My arms tremble like leaves and my eyelids flutter. Do not fall asleep, I command myself. There’s no telling what the royals will do to you. But Marie doesn’t seem so bad, merely overprotective. Louis would never risk touching unwashed vermin. And Josse fed me. He trusted me to heal his sisters. He promised to release me…
Gray blotches cloud the edges of my vision. How long has it been since I’ve slept well? Days? Weeks? Darkness wraps around me, and I’m sinking, drowning. So unbearably heavy. I sag against the wall and give in to the exhaustion. The royals may well kill me, but at least I tried to redeem myself. I proved who I am and where I stand with my final act. Satisfied, I drift out of consciousness with a tiny grin on my lips.
I wake to a sound I haven’t heard in ages: Laughter. High and trilling and merry. I bolt upright, and my body screams in protest. A kink in my neck makes it near impossible to turn my head. I blink through the darkness, momentarily blinded as I wipe the sleep from my eyes.
The little girls are sitting up. They have to clutch the wall for support, and the smaller one, Anne, is still frightfully pale—but they’re alive. And no longer speckled with awful green bumps. Josse kneels before them, telling them a story. He waves his hands above his head and tweaks Fran?oise’s nose. Her delighted squeal tugs at the corner of my lips.
I’m so engrossed with watching them, I fail to hear Marie approach until she collapses beside me and takes my hands in hers. “Thank you,” she gushes. “A thousand times, thank you.”
Josse turns at the sound of her voice. His smile is more radiant than the sun at midday, his eyes greener than the hills in summer. My chest constricts, and a funny tingling seeps through my core. After everything I’ve done, I never thought anyone would look on me with such hope and gratitude. Nor did I think they would hold my hands to their chest, wetting my fingers with tears the way Marie does now. I even catch Louis grinning in the corner, and a surge of emotion swells within me.
“It worked,” Josse crows. He rushes over and smothers me in an embrace. I yelp with surprise, and the girls giggle. The sound fills my bones with warmth and strength and rightness. “You’re brilliant,” Josse continues. But his praise lands like a slap across my cheek, and my body goes rigid.
I’m not the hero they think. I may have saved the little girls, but I still killed their father.
Josse leans closer before releasing me, his lips at my ear. “I’ll see you safely home. I swear it.”
I shuffle back a few steps. I have no desire to return to Mother and the Shadow Society. And it’s impossible, at any rate, thanks to their misbegotten ransom note. Even if I claimed I escaped, Mother knows I’ve been with the royals, which means she will expect me to lead the Shadow Society back to this hideout. She will slaughter these innocent children. Guilt twines tighter around my neck, and a foul taste fills my mouth.
“No,” I whisper.
Josse stares at me as if I just refused all the gold in the Sun King’s coffers. “But you said—”
“I said I wanted freedom.”
His green eyes blaze into mine. “I’ll find a way to keep my promise. Trust me.” Then he takes my arm and ushers me toward the girls. “What do you say to Mirabelle?”
Mirabelle. Not poisoner. Not La Petite Voisin. Mirabelle.
Fran?oise looks down shyly. “Thank you for healing me. I’m sorry I caused such a fuss.”
“No need to apologize.” I offer her a hand to shake in truce, but little Anne pounces. She drags me to the floor and climbs onto my lap, nestling against my chest. I feel as if I’ve been kicked in the gut, only it doesn’t hurt, exactly. It’s more of a blooming, burning sensation. A rush of heat that dislodges my heart and presses it up into my throat. Slowly, and with extreme caution, I wrap one arm around Anne’s shoulders.