Throne Shaker (The Clash and the Heat Book 3)

by Val Saintcrowe

  Remy took a step backward. “I find I don’t like your manner, Dubois.”

  “I find I don’t like your face,” said Guillame, feeling sullen.

  Remy was stunned by this. He was so surprised, he didn’t say anything.

  Guillame sucked in a noisy breath and then he turned away. “My apologies, Your Highness,” he mumbled. “I have no notion what’s come over me. She simply brings out the worst in my temperament, I’m afraid.”

  A long silence.

  Then Remy’s voice, tired. “I know what you mean. Don’t give it another thought. She’s not either of our concern anymore, though. She was never the sort of woman who would be satisfied with one man, and we were never the sort of men who were willing to share her, so… it’s all over. There’s no reason in… Why is she here?”

  “She won’t say,” said Guillame. “She wants only to speak to you. Well, she said that she’ll tell us both at the same time, I suppose. She wants an audience in the morning, and we can both be there.”

  “Right, of course,” said Remy. “Well, I would obviously grant her an audience.”

  “And you’ll stay home and not go off riding tomorrow?” Guillame turned back to the king.

  “Obviously not,” said Remy. He shifted on his feet, and he looked different. Younger. Almost vulnerable. “How did she seem? Is she well? Is she… different?”

  “Yes,” said Guillame.

  Remy didn’t ask which question Guillame was answering. “Were you really with her?”

  “I went to try to get answers from her, but she was obviously heading straight to bed. She said she was too tired to get into it,” said Guillame. “Obviously, I didn’t touch her, and she didn’t in any way encourage that from me.”

  Remy looked away, as if embarrassed. “I see.”

  “I don’t even think I would,” said Guillame. “Given the opportunity, I would decline. The way things ended with her and me… I left her, you know. Whatever it was I felt for her, somehow, it got pushed to a breaking point, and eventually, my devotion to her, it just snapped. I…” He sank down in a chair, shaking his head. “I don’t love her anymore, not the way I did.”

  Remy cleared his throat. “No, I don’t either. Of course not.”

  Guillame didn’t love her, but he was still angry with her. If he could forgive her, then he could move past all this, and he wanted that. He simply wasn’t sure… how did he go about letting the emotion go? When he thought of her betrayal, her with Remy, it made him feel…

  He furrowed his brow.

  No, it didn’t make him feel anything anymore. He remembered feeling disgusted, but now it only produced the memory of disgust. There was really no reason to be angry with her, was there?

  Except… blast it all, he still was.

  He let out a frustrated noise.

  “I’ll, um, leave you to yourself now,” said Remy. “Thank you for seeing to everything while I was gone, Dubois.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Guillame got to his feet again, giving Remy a bow.

  “Never mind that, Dubois,” said Remy. “Sit back down. I’ll talk to you in the morning for this audience with her.”

  “Very good, Your Majesty.” Guillame watched Remy go. Then he sat back down and rubbed his forehead.

  Blazing Fleur.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I had given no real thought to how it would feel to be back in Dumonte, and it was strange. It felt like going back in time, as though all the parts of me that had grown and changed had been rudely reset, and now I was smack dab in the middle of a great deal of unpleasantness.

  Guillame was still obviously feeling resentment toward me, even after all this time. After he left my chamber, I paced for a bit, trying to think of what I could do to ease whatever bad feelings he had for me, but I couldn’t think of anything.

  Then the nurse came and told me that Margo’d had a bad dream, so I went down the hallway to her chambers and sang to her and snuggled in her bed until she fell asleep.

  I was tempted to stay in her room with her, but her bed was small, and I didn’t fit. I left the room and made my way back to my chambers. On my way there, the door to the wing opened and Coralie strode into view.

  “Oh, Fleur!” She waved to me. “I was coming to see you. I know it’s late. I’m sorry. Are you in your nightdress?”

  I sighed. “What can I do for you, Coralie?”

  She hurried over to me. “I need you to be honest with me. Your daughter? Who is her father?”

  “I told you, I don’t know,” I said. This was a disaster. It was only that I’d begun to wonder why I was so intent on keeping Margo and Remy apart. Maybe I was doing it to punish him, and maybe he deserved it, but Margo didn’t deserve it, and it seemed harmless. Remy had his own heir. He didn’t need anything from Margo. So, maybe if he discovered it, it would be all right.

  I wasn’t going to volunteer the information, however.

  And I certainly wasn’t going to discuss it with Coralie.

  “You left with Guillame,” she said. “He told me that it wasn’t his child, but she is so dark. Is it your guard, then? The Bisset man?”

  “What?” I gaped at her. “Why do you care? What does it matter to you?” Did she suspect it was Remy? Even if so, Margo was no threat to her little Beau, who was older and male besides.

  “I simply can’t sleep. My stomach’s in knots. Come now, a woman knows. Who is the father of your child?”

  “There is no way a woman would know if she were entertaining multiple men in her bed—”

  “Forgive me, you’re not so careless.” She put her hands on her hips. “I know you weren’t eager to have a child so young. Neither was I. But, well, it happened, and I didn’t want to terminate another pregnancy, and then Guillame came back, and, well, it all worked out. So, what did you two quarrel about? Did you force him to abandon his child? Because maybe if so, that would explain some of the things he did.”

  What was she going on about? “My daughter’s father is not Guillame, Coralie. I can tell you that for certain.”

  “Because he escaped with you and he wasn’t bedding you?”

  “Well, he wasn’t exactly eager after what you’d done to him,” I said. “That experience tended to dampen his ardor, you know? And he was away, doing things for me, and—” Suddenly, everything slid into place. “Oh.” I put my hand over my mouth as it slid open.

  “What?” she said.

  I was thinking about little Beau’s face. The resemblance was there, now that I knew to look for it. “Your son, he’s not Remy’s.”

  She looked up and down the hallway, her eyes wide. “You take that back.”

  I moved closer, lowering my voice so that I could be sure that my guards wouldn’t hear. “You were pregnant with Guillame’s baby. That’s why Guillame stayed. And somehow he… how did he manage it? Getting Remy to marry you, getting him to think he was the father of the child?”

  “Remy doesn’t think that,” whispered Coralie. “He knows. Guillame convinced him anyway, somehow. I don’t know how. Guillame is skilled in that way. I need Guillame. My son needs him, too, and if you’ve come back here to steal him away from me—”

  “Wait, you and Guillame are—”

  “No, it’s not romantic,” said Coralie. “But he and I, we work together, and he protects me, and he protects Beau. Don’t think to snap your fingers and have him trailing after you again, begging for your scraps.”

  Now, I understood. I felt sorry for her again. It seemed that I was always going to feel sorry for Coralie. I reached down and clasped her hand with mine. “I’ve no intention of doing anything to Guillame. He is quite done with me in every way, so don’t worry. And I promise you, Margo is not his daughter.”

  Coralie’s face twisted. “You could be lying. You would lie to me. I know you would.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “And if you tell anyone about Beau—”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “If Remy tr
uly knows, I don’t see who is hurt by it anyway. But why would Remy agree to such a thing?”

  “I don’t know,” said Coralie. “I have never understood Remy.” She sniffed. “I should go to bed and leave you be.”

  “I would appreciate it,” I said. “I am quite tired.”

  She nodded. “I’ll go.”

  We said our goodbyes, and she left the wing.

  I truly was exhausted. Once I was sure she was gone, I went into my room.

  I put out the lamps in my sitting room and took one with me into my darkened bedchamber. Inside, I shut the door and I took off my robe.

  My lamp illuminated him in the corner, watching me.

  I nearly screamed.

  “You think Dubois is the only one who knows how to climb in windows?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Remy!” I clutched at my chest. “You gave me a fright. You truly shouldn’t be sneaking about like this. Couldn’t you have knocked on the door like a normal person?”

  “Where have you been?” he said. “Why haven’t you been in your quarters?”

  “I had to go and see to my daughter,” I said. “And then I had to deal with Coralie, who wasn’t particularly happy to see me.”

  “I can’t understand why you’d think any of us would be happy to see you,” he said. “You have a daughter?”

  “You didn’t hear?” I spread my hands. “I heard about your son. Or not your son, as it turns out.” I could hardly believe that. The news of Remy and Coralie had caused me so much pain, and it wasn’t even true. Had Guillame done that on purpose? I wouldn’t put it past him, I supposed. He knew just how to get under my skin.

  Remy’s jaw twitched. “He’s a piece of work, your Dubois. I think he could convince a carale to commit murder.”

  I scoffed. “Carales commit murder all the time.”

  Remy laughed. “I suppose they do, at that.” He took a step toward me. “You look…” He didn’t finish.

  I felt self-conscious under his gaze. I ducked down my head. “He’s not my Dubois. I think he must be yours now. He serves you.”

  “Beautiful,” he said.

  I sucked in a breath, a dark ripple going through me at his words.

  “More beautiful than I remembered,” he said, giving me a ghost of a smile.

  “Remy…” My voice wasn’t strong.

  He took another step toward me. “My apologies. That’s probably not the sort of thing you wish to hear from me.”

  I glanced at him and then down at my hands. I picked at my fingernails. “You look quite handsome yourself, of course.”

  He took another step closer.

  I looked up at him.

  “I’m sorry I climbed in your window,” he said. “It’s not a very honorable sort of thing to do.”

  “Well, you’ve never been an honorable sort of man,” I murmured.

  “No, I haven’t,” he said, and he took another step closer.

  I took a step toward him. “Listen, it’s late, and I’m very tired.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I won’t keep you.” Another step. Now he was only a foot away.

  I closed the distance between us. “Are you going to climb back out the window?”

  “Will your people be scandalized if I go through your rooms?”

  “Very little that I do scandalizes them.”

  He smiled again, a wide smile. It reminded me of the way he smiled at me when we were in Rzymn, hundreds of lifetimes ago. “I wouldn’t imagine it would.”

  I smiled up at him again. “I was glad when I heard you’d come back home. I was still debating about whether to come, but when we heard you were in Dumonte, I knew it was a sign. It was time.”

  “You were planning on coming?”

  “I was… thinking about it,” I said.

  “I hear you wouldn’t tell Dubois why you came, because you were waiting for me,” he said. “Would you tell me, even if he wasn’t here?”

  “Yes, I suppose,” I said. “If you want to know—”

  He put a finger on my lips, and my voice died in my throat.

  “That’s all right. We can do it all formally tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t know why it pleases me so much to know that you’d tell me if I asked, but it does.”

  My smile widened. Why did that please me? I was feeling weak-kneed this close to him.

  His voice dropped in register. “I’m going to kiss you now, Fleur.”

  I made a tiny noise in the back of my throat.

  “If you don’t want me to do it, you’d better stop me.”

  I swallowed. I hadn’t been kissed in a long time. I could have had men if I wanted them, of course, but I’d been distracted with being a queen and being a mother, and it had seemed the least important thing in the world. But now, he was so close, and he smelled just the way I remembered, and I tilted my head back and offered him my lips.

  He claimed them.

  It was like midnight cutting through me. I pressed into his firm chest.

  His hands came around me, pressing into the small of my back, urging me close.

  When he pulled away, it was too soon.

  He disentangled himself, staggering backwards, holding up his hands as if to try to ward me off. “You didn’t stop me.” He sounded stricken by that.

  “Did you want me to?” I whispered.

  He sank both his hands into his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “I don’t mind it,” I blurted. “I know that before, with the two of us, you wanted me to come with you, but I couldn’t. I was… it turns out it was never meant to be, what I thought back then. I wasn’t wrong, not exactly, I still don’t know if I could have come with you, but things are different now, for me, and—”

  “Stop.” He shook his head at me. “You drive me to the brink of insanity, I swear it. I can’t blazing think straight when you’re near.” He stalked across the room and threw open the door to my chambers.

  Bisset was on his feet, pulling out his pistol.

  Remy ignored him and charged out of my rooms.

  I leaned against the door frame, feeling as though I’d just come out of the other side of a storm at sea.

  “My queen?” said Bisset.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “I don’t think I understand anything about you and the king,” said Bisset.

  “That makes two of us,” I said, and I shut the door.

  * * *

  The next morning, I brought Bisset and Solene with me, in addition to a few of the lords and ladies from the Islaigne court who had accompanied me.

  We met in the same room where I had once negotiated with Coralie’s brother Henrik for her marriage, but this time I was on the opposite side of the table.

  Remy, Guillame, and Lombardi were on the other side, and Remy refused to meet my gaze.

  There weren’t much in the way of pleasantries.

  Guillame, especially, was chomping at the bit to know the reason for my visit.

  I got started talking right away. “As you both are aware, there are dangers in Islaigne. It is a volatile place, in which the living flame can erupt anywhere, at any time, with no warning. When I first arrived there, four years ago, things were bad, but in the time since I have taken over the throne, the explosions have increased nearly tenfold, and they show no signs of letting up. Right now, it is still possible for people to live in my country, but that will not continue forever. And so, I have come to you, because I want to begin some kind of negotiations for a home for the people of Islaigne.”

  “What?” said Guillame. “That’s why you’re here?”

  Remy looked me over. “A home for them? I don’t understand.”

  “I wish to relocate my people,” I said. “You’re the king of nearly everything. There aren’t many of us anymore. We would fit in a large city, if you saw fit to give us one. Maybe even the island of Rzymn. I would, of course, acknowledge your sovereignty and pay you tribute, and behave as any subordin
ate kingdom should behave.”

  Remy laughed. “You want me to give you Rzymn?”

  “It doesn’t have to be that, no,” I said.

  “Because you always liked it,” he said. “You were so charmed by that place. You remember how we made plans together—”

  “Forget about Rzymn,” I said sharply.

  He sat back in his chair. “Would that I could,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t mean it like…” I hung my head.

  “I won’t give you things simply because of our history.” Remy glared at me. “It’s over, and you can’t expect sentimentality from me. You divorced me.”

  “That was your idea,” I said sharply.

  “Is that how you remember it?” he said.

  Guillame cleared his throat. “All right, let’s hold on here for a moment, shall we?”

  Remy folded his arms over his chest.

  Guillame turned to me. “Certainly, you must realize this is quite a request. You are asking the king to clear people out of their homes and give them to you and your people?”

  “Not necessarily, no,” I said. “We could build ourselves, of course. If there is some empty land somewhere—”

  “That belongs to no one?” said Guillame. “You know that the fiefs own the land here. It is not necessarily the king’s to give.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well, perhaps we could purchase it, then.”

  “Wait a moment.” Remy sat forward, placing his palms on the table. “This is a negotiation. You want something from me. I want something from you.”

  “That is how it works,” I said blandly.

  “You come with me to fight Fonte,” he said. “You can put out Cyrille’s fires. If you do that, this endless war I’ve been fighting will be over, and I’ll finally have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “I’m trying to flee danger, not walk headlong into it,” I said. “I don’t wish to go to war with you.”

  “Well, if you want the land, you’ll do it.”

  “I thought you couldn’t give me the land. I thought the fiefs—”

  “I can make anything happen,” said Remy. “I’ll rearrange any fiefs I like, and I’ll appease them by lessening their taxes or giving them some other sort of favor. I’ll make it work. But you need to come to war and help me beat these bastards once and for all.”