Grave Mercy (His Fair Assassin #1)(96)
“The order came only for your mother, and when I went to . . . visit her, another option presented itself.”
“Go on.”
“You do not sound especially surprised, my lord.”
“I am not surprised, no. I knew this was a possibility from the moment I brought you here. Remember, I have known of her plans all along.”
Perhaps that is why he fought so hard against my coming. “It occurred to me that if she was consigned to death for her plots against the duchess, then perhaps by renouncing those plots, she could earn herself a reprieve and the saint would unmarque her.”
“And did he?”
I clear my throat. “Not yet. But I do not think He will reverse His judgment until the oath passes from her lips.” I risk a quick glance at him. His face is flushed, but whether from my words, the heat of the fire, or the wine he has downed so quickly, I do not know. “Just as Runnion’s marque had not left him before he performed his act of contrition — it is the act of atonement that removes the marque, not simply the wanting to atone. Or so I believe.”
“Does the convent know you have taken matters into your own hands in such a way?”
“No.” I smile wryly. “Not yet.”
“And Crunard?”
I shake my head. "What actions the convent does or does not take are no concern of his. Or shouldn’t be. But I suspect he will figure it out soon enough, since it was he who reported your mother’s plot to the convent.”
Duval eyes me curiously. “Not you?”
embarrassed suddenly, I rise to fetch his dinner tray. “I had not had a chance to write to the abbess yet, no.” Still feeling his eyes upon me, I fiddle with the tray, rearranging the food and dishes. Only when he looks away do I feel comfortable enough to turn around. even so, I am careful not to meet his eyes as I set the tray before him.
when I do manage to glance up, he is holding the white queen and studying her, his dark brows drawn together.
“I must find a way to tell the duchess of Madame Hivern’s and Fran?ois’s need to swear fealty to her. I was hoping you might have some insight on how I may do that without letting her know the full extent of their betrayal.”
He tilts his head, reminding me for a moment of Vanth. “You wish to keep that from her?”
“I wish to protect her young heart from any more bruises. Truly, how many more people can betray her?”
“How many more barons are there?” is his unsettling reply.
And so it is that on Christmas Day, Madame Hivern and Fran?ois kneel before the duchess and swear everlasting fealty to her. And mean it.
Madame Hivern has come within an angel’s breath of her own death and is aware of the mercy that has been granted to her and her son.
As I watch her swear the oath, the purple, bruised marque slowly fades from her throat. My breath leaves me in a rush, and my knees grow weak with relief. Mortain has indeed granted her mercy. which means I did not fail Him or subvert His will. Joy fills my heart as I realize I have not stepped outside His grace.
When the ceremony is over, I slip away and return to my room, eager to give the news to Duval. The servants are enjoying their own feast, and my chamber is dark except for the reddish glow from the fireplace. It is nearly full dark outside, and little light comes in through the windows. Just as I turn to light some tapers, there is a scritch of sound at the window and a faint caw. Vanth.
I hurry to the shutter. when I open it, the crow tumbles in, a scramble of black feathers and rushing wings. At least he no longer tries to snap my fingers off.
Vanth lands near his cage and cocks his head. He caws and ruffles his feathers before going in. I take my time teasing the note from him, not sure I want to read the scolding I am certain the reverend mother has sent me. At last I snag the message from Vanth’s leg, break the seal, and unfold the parchment.
Daughter,
Once again I have received no word from you on the most recent developments at court and must rely on Chancellor Crunard to guide me. What he has told me is so shocking that I can scarce credit it. Not only does the French whore still live, but you have neglected to inform me of Duval’s true allegiance. The chancellor has laid out the case against Duval and there can be no doubt that he is guilty. He has driven away all of the duchess’s allies, one by one, and when that failed, he arranged an assassination attempt on the duchess. Have you known all along that he was spying for the French regent? Or have you been blinded to his real purpose? Indeed, the only reason I do not judge you an accomplice in this matter is that the chancellor informed me that it was you who saved her life.
Duval must pay for his crimes, and you must pay for your negligence. Dispatch him immediately, then pack your things and return to the convent at once so I may decide what is to be done with you.
My heart stops beating for one — two — long beats and the note falls from my numb fingers and flutters to the floor. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, hoping to expunge the words from my mind. But it does no good. I have been ordered to kill Duval.
The desires of my convent have collided with the path of my heart.
Chapter Forty-three
Slowly, as if every bone in my body has turned to melted wax, I sink to the floor. How can this be? Did the abbess not get my most recent letter? And what of Crunard? Does he believe his own argument, or is there some darker purpose here? For everything he accuses Duval of could also be laid at his own feet.