An Affair of Poisons(86)
“Wait, Margot. Please.” I grab her arm, but she breaks free and spits on my dress.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Please,” I beg, my voice small and broken. “Think of all the nights we spent crouched inside the cupboard, holding hands—”
“Not another word!” She turns her back on me and drags us up the scaffold steps.
I can feel Josse watching our exchange, and for a brief second, I see a flicker of empathy cross his face. But when I glance over, he irons out his expression and looks away.
Once we’re positioned beside the cauldron, Mother alights from her carriage, waving to her raucous followers and flashing her most honeyed grin. Lesage escorts her through the crowd, which has grown so thick that it spills from the courtyard into the surrounding streets. There are Shadow Society supporters and rabble alike. Everyone has come to see the commotion. I squint into the sea of faces, hoping to spot Ameline’s defiant scowl or Gavril’s gap-toothed grin, but La Trianon and Abbe Guibourg are the only familiar faces near the platform. Beyond them, the people blend together like herbs in a cauldron. Even if our old allies are present, they’ve no reason to help us again. Not when they’ve lost so much.
“Are we ready to proceed with the festivities?” Mother asks Lesage through a tight-lipped smile as they take their places beside us.
“Fernand should arrive with the royals any moment,” he assures her.
Mother’s eyes simmer with annoyance. “How hard could it be to apprehend a few little girls and the inept dauphin?”
Lesage places a steadying hand on her shoulder. “The bastard and your daughter are at the ready. Shall we begin with them?”
“Very well.” Mother cuts a withering glance at me and Josse, then turns to address the crowd, her face oozing with sudden warmth and affection. “My good people!” she bellows in her most enthralling voice. “Since the inception of the Shadow Society, we have dedicated ourselves to serving you, the citizens of Paris! It is our greatest desire to ensure that you are well-fed and finely clothed and prospering—unlike the lecherous, self-serving kings who came before. But our great purpose has been thwarted by these grievous rebels”—she motions back at us—“who have robbed us of peace and fractured our city by attempting to pit us against one another. Royals who wish for things to return to the way they were before. Who want to keep you low and see you suffer.”
From all across the square, people raise their fists and shout in agreement. But I’m pleased to find just as many come to our defense.
“La Vie kept us from starving with her hunger tonic,” calls a girl near the front.
“We were on the brink of death when she administered a fever draught” comes a deep voice from the center of the throng.
More and more voices cry out, like the patter of rain as storm clouds descend.
Mother waves her hands to quiet them. “The Shadow Society will provide those services. We would be doing all of that and more, were we not constantly harried by rebellion. Once they are disposed of and we, as a city, are united in purpose, all of our time and resources shall be dedicated to the care of the common man. You have no need of this La Vie”—she spits my new name—“or her pathetic uprising.”
A good half of our defenders fall quiet. The rest whisper to their neighbors. Cold fingers of panic trace along my spine. With a few clever lies, Mother is going to undo weeks’ worth of progress. Everything we’ve fought for—a future Desgrez and ètienne and so many others died for. I look helplessly to Josse, but of course he isn’t looking at me. His shoulders are hunched and his hair hangs in his downcast eyes. His skin has that awful greenish hue, and his face shines with sweat. He looks finished, defeated. If I were in the audience, I would abandon our cause too.
A numb, tingling dread slowly claims my limbs. If I don’t act quickly, the same despair will consume me and drag me down to the scaffold. I ball my fists and lunge forward against my chains. “Lies!” I shout. “Don’t believe her lies! The moment the Shadow Society rose to power, they abandoned you! They will never keep these pretty promises because the rebellions will never cease. Even if we perish, others will rise. We are your true advocates, and we have a plan to—”
“Silence!” Mother shouts. Her guards haul on my chains and I crash to the platform. My face smashes into the boards and blood pours from my nose, filling my mouth with the taste of salt and rust. But my outburst did the trick. The people agitate and churn once more, like a boiling kettle.
“These hopeless rebels are not your allies,” Mother says with perfect calmness. “Who do you suppose is responsible for destroying the crops? We caught them sprinkling a poisonous powder across the fields, tainting your food so they could then ‘save’ you and gain your support. We razed the fields to protect you. And the Shadow Society will distribute the royal stores of grain to accommodate for the shortages caused by this heinous act.”
The crowd shifts yet again, like the changing of the wind. A thousand voices shout. Louder and faster and angrier until, like the snapping of a bowstring, they hurtle forward and slam against the scaffold. The hastily constructed boards judder beneath my boots, and I stare at Mother slack-jawed as I fight to keep my balance.
She smooths her hands down the front of her immaculate golden eagle cloak and shoots me a gloating smile. She got everything she wanted. She destroyed the crops and found a way to spin it in her favor. “Anything more you’d like to add, daughter?” she taunts.