Page 6 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

T he surrounding guards lowered their drawn blades as the duke slumped over, the life still fading from his twisted face when he hit the floor and rolled, the hilt of the smallsword sticking out of him.

They stood, listening, watching him suffocate on his own blood.

It trickled from his mouth, some soaking the front of his shirt.

Eventually the wretched sound of his rasping breath faded, and there was a brief moment where it felt like a breeze swept through the closed room, a sigh of relief that the magic had departed.

John, who’d been still documenting the scene to her left, exchanged glances with her; at the look on her face his eyes widened, and he set the quill and paper down. It hung off the edge of the desk, his scratched scrawl spanning at least half a meter.

Sweeping the strands of her escaping hair off her cheeks, Lilac extended an arm and put her hand out. It eerily mirrored the hand on the table, whose jewel-adorned fingers curled daintily inward.

“Give it to me.”

“B-but is court still in session, Your Majesty?”

“It is clearly over.” She flexed her palm and he handed it to her, then scuttled away from the arm as if he’d been so immersed in jotting down every detail that he was noticing it for the first time.

She grabbed it and marched to the top of the stairs.

No one protested when she chucked the length of it into the roaring fireplace, where it was engulfed in flames.

No one in the room had seemed to actually believe the arm was a gift from the vampires before Armand killed himself, but it was now clear some sort of magic was at play.

“He had many enemies,” she said, doing her best to force the tremble from her voice as she stared into the fire.

“He and Vivien live with the back of their estate surrounded by the Low Forest, and they proved to be traitorous to the crown. Who knows what trouble they were in, what vendettas were cast against them of their own doing.”

It was so quiet, she heard her father exhale before speaking. “We cannot hide the deaths of the duke and duchess.”

She turned. The guards stood motionless around Armand’s lifeless body. “I said nothing of the sort. In his madness, Sinclair murdered and dismembered his mother. Armand and his driver came here to request an audience and deliver the terrible news.”

Perane approached from the corner, huddled over his rosary. “But Your Majesty, others witnessed them enter the bailey in that state.”

“Good. Grief is a terrible thing, isn’t it? It can make people do things.” She descended the stairs, preparing to leave the room, but her father beckoned her to the corner of the desk.

“What about the vampires?” Henri asked quietly.

“What of them? We have no proof. No bite marks.”

“But they were certainly spelled; you cannot deny that.” When she didn’t respond, he glanced to their left, to the desk, where Lilac refused to bring her gaze. “What do you want done with that?”

“I want it gone.”

One of the guards gingerly retrieved the limb and placed it back into its bag.

Only after the guard exited through the courtyard door could she breathe again.

She was distantly aware of Henri demanding everyone in the room swear their secrecy—that nothing of this would be spoken, and a public announcement of their death would be revisited post-investigation.

Kemble, the last to leave for the keep along with John, muttered that she suspected there was not a drop of blood left in the limb due to its coloring.

She left, promising she’d be back with some of the staff to tidy the room before lunch .

Now alone with her father, Lilac felt his gaze heavy on her. Face red, the lump in her throat the only thing holding back tears, she sidestepped him and walked toward the door she’d come through.

“You’re still leaving this evening, aren’t you?”

“Yes. There will not be any changes to my plans.”

There was a sloshing of liquid as he slipped the flask hanging from his belt; she couldn’t tell earlier if he’d been drinking prior to Armand’s arrival, but if he had, he was certainly well sobered by now.

“You’re going to buy a dress?”

At his tone, Lilac turned around. “I am. Mother and I agreed it would be a fine opportunity for me to find a gown for my coronation ball from the new shop in Paimpont.”

“She did not agree. You told her, and she vehemently protested.”

“That may be true, but the conversation I recall ended in me standing by my decision to visit the seamstress.”

“It’s a haberdasher.”

“Her father was the haberdasher,” she reminded him for the second time since she’d informed him of her plans in the middle of the week.

“She kept the business name, having inherited the haberdashery from her father and grandfather. She’s a clothier, and fashions mother’s new hats and gowns as well. ”

Henri stared at her, his eyes rising to her head. “They’re wigs .”

Lilac raised her arms to straighten the towering powdered construction Marguerite had started wearing and even forcing upon her, and shrugged.

Henri’s eye twitched. “You haven’t announced a visit, have you?”

“No.” She glared, waiting for him to continue. “But I’m not changing my plans.”

“So you’ve said. But you shall bring a horseback guard.”

“One of our steeds would indicate royal travel.” She preferred not to bring an extra person that might end up being someone’s dinner, but she had expected this demand. It would be impossible to leave without a guard on her father’s watch.

“Then he will have a commoner’s horse or ride on the driver’s bench. But he is going. ”

“Fine. I welcome him and his horse on my journey,” she ground out, determined this trip remain under her control. Her own planning .

Henri’s mouth drew into a hard line, and he stepped closer, placing his hands upon her shoulders. “Lilac.”

“Henri.”

“Two men died in your presence this evening.” It could’ve been the shifting shadows of dusk, but the bags under his eyes appeared deeper. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You must be careful. People are paying attention, Lilac. They are interested in you.”

“They have been interested, Father.” His warning felt similar to what Garin had said in her chamber. She flexed her fingers into fists. “I have fed the town rumor mill for years. You forget that this is nothing new.”

“It is all new!” At his volume, she stepped away from him, and the former king lifted his arms, helpless. “And they are not interested in gossip. That is not what I meant.”

Who else would be interested in… What else?

Heat flooded through her as his words sank in. “ No .”

“Yes. It is time we had the conversation.” His mouth was taut. He would not drop it.

And he was right not to, as much as she hated it. She was a girl who had been locked away as punishment for something she’d been taught to hate about herself, and when she’d finally escaped, she emerged as both a woman and a queen, with no time to sort out what either meant for herself.

Lilac might have been naive and young—and perhaps she would have been, Daemon tongue or no. But she hadn’t asked for any of this. And she still had to face her duty. Even if the only way she knew how was with stubbornness.

“You have said to me before that there is no requirement of marriage.”

Her father shook his head, and his mustache trembled.

Shook it a little too hard. “And you are correct. But official requirement and prudent arrangement aren’t so far apart, my dear.

Marriage offers you safety and protection.

It creates allies and strengthens borders against current and future threats. ”

“If I am entrusted to protect the creatures and people of this kingdom, then I would think I am able to protect myself, Father.” Her voice began to tremble in anger.

He flinched at her mention of Daemons. “You cannot. You are a woman. ”

“Then why not assign me a fencing master? A cartographer in my lessons to learn how to navigate a map and arrange armies? Why was I stuck in a fortress with books and tutors and nowhere to go? Why not let me have both?” Why didn’t you prepare me for this role , she wanted to scream at him.

But they both knew why, and it was far too late to do anything about it now.

He had no answer.

Lilac straightened. “I will not marry, and I will not be forced. If you truly care for me, you will let this issue lie.”

Henri’s jaw tightened. He sidestepped to block her attempt to leave, loudly slamming his fist upon the desk.

“Do not lecture a father on how to care for his daughter,” he roared.

“Here sat a dismembered arm from a murdered member of our house. A former member of my court. Two men died before you, in our very castle, this afternoon!” He looked around, even if they were alone, and lowered his voice.

“France is likely scouting our borders.”

She jolted and took a step back. “The boy?—”

“Yes, that boy you ordered away, out in the hall? His father spoke the truth. Our guards received a pigeon in the early hours of the morning from the street sentries outside La Guerche, warning of smoke signals clear in the night. They investigated and found a small camp of soldiers.”

Her throat tightened as he glared at her. “Were they armed?”

“Lightly. They told our sentries they’d gotten lost. Our men had them leave immediately, which they did.”

“Perhaps it was just that,” she pushed, wanting too badly to believe. La Guerche was right within her border. Anyone could get lost in the thick forests there. “A camp.”

Henri rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are this gullible. And you’re telling me you don’t need protection? And you’re about to go to town? It’s madness.”

“I’m safe in the woods. I’ll stay on the path,” she lied.