Belle Révolte
Page 23
Vivienne had left a lovely silver pendant on top of Estrel’s clothes with a note that Estrel had read to me.
“Monsieur le Prince will be scrying from Segance, and you do not want to give him any more ammunition.”
“Laurence du Montimer, despite his many flaws, has enough respect to leave my appearance out of our disagreements,” Estrel had said to me as she set her spectacles atop my nose. “Some people aren’t even worth your time. Don’t bother arguing with the ones who don’t see you as a person.”
I smiled and nodded. “Do I look like a noble?”
“You look far too scared to be noble,” she said, laughing. “Copy my expression and try not to gasp at the food.”
“Plagued with shortages, and they got a whole roast out there I can smell and probably a dozen other things I’ve never even eaten.”
I settled Alaine’s crescent necklace against my throat. The gown Coline had chosen for me was a monstrously lovely thing of pale sea greens and blues, the silk softer than any of Emilie’s other dresses, with pearls decorating the lining and hem, glittering across the turned-up cuffs. The half-moon neckline showed off far more than I was used to, but I wasn’t some sunburned kid anymore. Weeks of Emilie’s soaps and creams and indoor schooling without any of the work I normally did had left me pretty and smooth. Everything fit perfectly to me.
I could see how nobles forgot about important things. This felt like a dream.
I was not announced, my presence too symbolic for that and my importance nothing compared to the rest of the folks here. We’d arrived in Serre after dark, and the city had been nothing but looming shadows and yellow-toned alchemical lamps that made me think of Yvonne. Our rooms were huge, all stone and fur rugs. Estrel had promised to show me Serre properly once this was all over.
The hall, though, was all I’d hoped.
A great dome roof of woven glass and gold cast speckled evening light around us as we entered. Pillars of white stone split the hall in three, and tables spotted the floor. There were people. A lot of people. More people than lived round Vaser, and this wasn’t even the entirety of the court. This was just one or two nobles from the families His Majesty liked.
They swished about, silk rustling over pale skin, and muttered in clipped whispers about how this was such a pity but such a blessing. We had gained Segance but lost some good soldiers, but oh, it was well worth it. No one had heard so much as a peep from Laurel. I followed behind Estrel, using her as a shield.
And then, the gentle pull of the midnight arts. A flicker of power awoke in the back of my mind, and I knew someone nearby was scrying me, trying to figure out who I was and where I’d come from. I spun and saw her.
Marian des Marais clutched a hand mirror in her white-knuckled grasp and headed to me. She was furious, but I only knew from the feel of her magic. She was painfully pretty and appropriately decorated, dark hair bundled up in a neat twist and white dress nearly glowing when the light hit it. She didn’t stomp, she glided. It was somehow scarier.
I reached behind me and grabbed Estrel’s arm.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I said, my mouth dry.
She spun back to me. “Why?”
“’Cause you’re about to eat your words about Marian des Marais not being here.”
“Oh no,” Estrel whispered. “Of all the times to be sociable. Grin and bear it. If she tries to say anything, I’ll stop her.” Estrel wrapped one arm around my shoulders. “I promise.”
I trusted her but couldn’t help the way my legs tensed. The door was only a sprint away. The dress wasn’t too bulky.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said. She moved to speak, but Marian held up one hand.
“You are certainly not the wild child I left with Vivienne,” she said, smile sharper than any knife. “You look like a completely different person.”
Estrel’s hands tightened on my shoulders. “She’s completely different and exceptionally wonderful, Madame, and I would love to discuss her progress with you.”
I might’ve been about to die, but hearing Estrel say that made my eyes burn.
“How delightful.” Marian held out her arm and gestured to an empty table near the back of the hall. “Let’s.”
She led us to the table. Estrel curtsied, form perfect. I’d never seen her do it before, and it drove the fear to my core. Estrel pulled out a chair for Marian and then for me, and she made sure there was a clear line from me to the doorway.
“Whoever you are,” Marian said. “Let us get one thing straight—”
“No, I don’t think we will.” Estrel didn’t even flinch when she interrupted the comtesse. “I’m going to talk first because I want to make it clear that if you threaten her, you will never have peace. The funny thing about noble power is that you only have it so long as people are willing to work for you. Do you understand?”
I glanced back at Estrel. Did she want to die?
“You cannot think I’m letting this go. Where is my daughter?” Marian’s hands twisted in her lap, tearing at the spread of her paper fan. The illusion on it kept it all hidden, but the art she had stored in the fan showed it plain as day to anyone who could see magic. “Emilie has not been out in the world. She’s not equipped to—” Marian brought one hand up and braced herself. “Where is she?”
“Segance,” I said softly. Hearing she was in the middle of a war probably wasn’t comforting. “She’s one of Physician du Montimer’s hacks.”
Estrel inhaled at that. Marian looked as if she might be sick.
“She’s fine.” I held up my necklace, hoping the magic I’d stored in it would be evident. Estrel said one night wouldn’t hurt me, and I needed Alaine with me tonight. “We write, and I scry for her so she’s not hurt.”
Marian bowed her head, covered her mouth with one hand, and closed her eyes. “No one thought to tell me my daughter was at war?”
“Emilie thought you would make her leave and have me arrested,” I said. “She’s a really good hack.”
“Who are you?” Marian asked.
“Annette.” My hands went to my throat, and I spun the moon between my fingers. “I’m from Vaser, and I was in Bosquet the day Emilie arrived. She saw me reading a flyer advertising that Estrel was in town, asked me to swap places with her, and it was too good to pass up. I wouldn’t have been able to study otherwise. There wasn’t money for it.”
“You’re the one who’s been writing the letters to me, aren’t you?” Shook her head, eyes rolling back. “I should’ve known. They were far too polite.”
“Emilie told me what to write at first when she was still at university,” I said. “She’s getting all that money you sent too. That was for her. She and another girl were the only female hacks and had to pay for the whole dormitory.”
Marian was quiet for a while and looked over me. “She’s very skilled at the midnight arts, then?”
“More so than you can imagine.” Estrel laid a hand on my arm.
I flushed a hot, splotchy pink, and Marian chuckled.
“Well,” she said. “At least there’s that redeeming fact. Someone is learning something.”
“Annette is as gifted at magic as I am, and she has the mind for further education. If Laurence du Montimer hired Emilie, she is certainly as gifted in magic and medicine. Would you really deprive them both of learning how to control their abilities and risk them wearing down?”
“There is always that risk,” Marian said. “And with Emilie using the noonday arts, that risk is far greater for her.”
Estrel let out a little, awkward laugh. “No, you don’t understand. Laurence and I, for all our differences, only teach people who are as powerful as us or could be, because given the types of magic we practice and the amount of power we regularly channel, it’s dangerous if they aren’t. If Emilie is with Laurence, she is far enough above other teachers,
including the ones she would’ve had at Vivienne’s. She would have worn out young, regardless, because of her innate abilities.”
Marian tensed and eventually said, “You should not have threatened me.”
“I’m sorry, Madame.” Estrel bowed her head. “But we both know that in the current air, if you turn Annette in for thievery or impersonation, she will be killed.”
“I’m not in the habit of having children killed, Estrel.” Marian let out a large breath, shoulders slumping but only slightly. “I need to speak with Laurence.”
“I can’t do that right now,” Estrel said.
“Don’t play coy,” Marian said. “I know you talk by scrying because letters are too slow. His mother says he complains about you constantly breaking his mirrors.”
“That’s his fault,” Estrel said, sneering. “He’s not channeling with the ethereal make-up of the mirror in mind and—”
Marian held up one hand. Estrel swallowed.
“Right. Sorry,” she said. “I know he’s scrying this meeting tonight to make sure the announcement is read for His Majesty. Give me a moment. I doubt he’s noticed that his hack is lying about her name, so I won’t give it away.”
Estrel turned and pulled out a small mirror.
Marian sighed. “Do you like school, Annette?”
“Very much.” I nodded and ducked my head. “I never thought I’d get to study everything. I thought I’d be a hack, but then even that was expensive. And the girls I’m with are nice. It was hard making friends in Vaser. There weren’t many people my age.”
“Do you like this dress?” Marian picked up the sleeve of my—no, Emilie’s—gown and rubbed it between her fingers. “Emilie hated it.”
“I like it,” I said softly.
Marian laughed. “Good. Does your family know where you are?”
“No, they assumed I ran away.” I didn’t shrug. Vivienne would’ve killed me.
Her hand dropped, and she stared at me, face inscrutable, until Estrel turned back to us.
“Emilie is fine.” Estrel turned the mirror facedown against her dress. “I’m not quite sure Laurence and I scryed at the right moments for him to catch all of my question, but he did say that ‘Emilie Boucher is training to be my assistant, and that should be enough,’ so I think she’s doing well.”
“Good.” Marian’s hands came together beneath her chin in silent prayer. “You are both sitting with me until this is over, and afterward, you are telling me exactly where Emilie is so I may write to her.”
I nodded. Estrel bowed her head.
“Of course, Madame,” Estrel said. “Let me get rid of Laurence.”
She turned back around to her mirror. I peeked over Estrel’s shoulder. The image in the mirror was blurry since it wasn’t something I had scryed, but in it was a reedy man in red velvet. He held a silver mirror in his left hand.
“Why was I invited to this?” Estrel said, watching him in the mirror. The amount of magic channeling through her and into the glass made my teeth ache. “I hate things like this, and nearly everyone here hates me.”
“I know.” He was haughty, chin up and grin more sneer than joy, and he sipped a glass of red wine.
“I cannot believe you stooped to this level solely to annoy me,” she said, tugging at the low collar of her pine-green dress.
He gasped and clutched his heart. “Annoy you? Perish the thought. I don’t think of you at all most days.”
“Who will you be scrying during the announcement?” Estrel looked out over the crowd. “Monsieur René du Ruse?”
“René.” Laurence nodded, suddenly serious. “His Majesty is about to start. I have to go.”
He pressed his hand to his mirror and the magic faded. Estrel turned hers over, so the reflective side was pressed to her skirt.
“Yours is a lot clearer than mine,” I said.
Estrel laughed. “Laurence and I have been practicing this for years. You’ll get better.”
“And I could talk to you no matter where you were,” I said. “Right?”
“Yes.” Estrel smiled. “But I think you will be stuck with me for some time.”
As if that were a bad thing.
Behind me, Marian cleared her throat. Estrel and I turned to face the rest of the room. A chime rang out.
Chevalier Waleran du Ferrant was certainly handsome like most nobles tried to be, and he spoke like he was the king. He was white-headed and gravelly voiced. I let my eyes unfocus so I could listen.
“My court, my friends, I come to you as the voice of the Premier Noonday Artist of the Realm, His Most Bright Majesty, Henry XII, by the grace of our Lord Sun and his Mistress Moon, King of Demeine. This week, in the ninth month of our three hundred and forty-second year Past Midnight, we have finally taken back the land stolen from us by Kalthorne. Segance, once a home for our countrymen, was brutalized and wasted under Kalthorne’s rule, but our people have been returned to us. I come to you tonight, though, with even more heartening news—the portents of Lord Sun and Mistress Moon have instructed us that now is the time to rid this world of this great Thorne in our side once and for all.”
Estrel let out a growling exhale and stiffened.
There were no such portents.
“Our Demeine shall never suffer siege again but rise with the sun every morning and with the moon every night. Demeine will prevail. This treachery will never threaten us again.” Chevalier du Ferrant threw his hands up as if in celebration or passionate prayer, and there was a soft cheer from the crowd gathered. “His Majesty, who served us so diligently and strongly in the war against Vertgana that his powerful grasp of the noonday arts wore him down completely, led the charge against Kalthorne in Segance, his vitality restored by the grace of our Lord Sun.”
It was good that Isabelle wasn’t here. If someone said that after killing Macé or Jean, I’d have killed them. I was certain she would’ve too.
“There is no progress without sacrifice, just as there is no power without sacrifice,” he said, hands fisted at his sides. “We will bring Demeine to a level of power the world has never seen. Are you with me?”
People cheered and clapped, and I brought my hands together once. Estrel didn’t even do that.
Power had a cost, but our folks were the ones who always had to pay it.
He held up the glass of black wine to us and those near a server held up their own glasses.
“Demeine!” he said. “Grace, honor, legacy!”
The room repeated the phrases, glasses high, and drank.
It went quickly after that, the evening devolving into a party. Marian hugged me when Estrel said we should leave. A real hug.
“I’ll keep an eye on Emilie,” I whispered, not sure what to do.
She patted my cheek but couldn’t form the words.
Estrel escorted me out of the room, and her hands curled around my shoulders. “In the morning, we need to talk about what to do when you are found out and go back to being Annette Boucher. If we get things right, I think you may get away with this.”
“I’ll do everything right,” I said. “I promise.”
“I believe you.” Estrel led me back to my room and stopped at the door. “But if you make a mistake, you’re still my apprentice and it will be all right.”
I nodded. We’d find out if it would be all right in a few hours.
* * *
The next morning at dawn, Estrel shook me awake. “We have to leave. They’re scouring the city for Laurel.”
“What?” I sat up and turned an ear to the window. Shouts and screams echoed down the streets. “What happened?”
I knew what had happened. The posters were up, Laurel had spread the news of what His Majesty had done, and people were angry.
We would be our own.
Twenty-One
Emilie
“There was a poster on the opening to my tent this morning.” He glanced around. There was no one about. There should have been people working, talking, preparing to switch shifts. “His Majesty’s personal guards came through and ripped it down.”
“A poster of what?” I closed my eyes and tried to feel out the magic being used in the camp. Nothing—as if Lord Sun had taken a hand and swept it all away. Someone was making it harder for noonday artists to channel magic. “Pièrre and Waleran are doing something to prevent us from channeling.”
I had heard of battle magic’s various uses but never studied them. Only nobles studying to become chevaliers had access to those texts.
“They’re going to blame hacks. That’s why I’m here. Make sure you’ve got your things in order if they question you.” Louis exhaled. “What if they try to scry the past to see who did it? Whoever did it will be in danger.”
His black eyes caught mine. I ducked.
“Scrying the past is exceptionally hard,” I said, “and so far as I know, Estrel Charron is the only one who can do it accurately right now.”
They would probably ask her, but surely someone with her background wouldn’t turn Laurel in.
“Small blessings for traitors, ay?” Louis nodded for me to follow him. “I need your help with rounds—you can adjust alchemistry, right?”
“Sure.”
The low hum of whispering filled the infirmary. This early, it was all common soldiers and hacks. Louis led me to a soldier in one of the middle beds. I sat next to him.
I had only spoken to Louis a few times before this morning. At university when Physician Allard had returned to pick his new hack, Louis had spent the day answering students’ questions about the physician’s work. Laurence had taken us into Delest that day. Louis’s constant channeling for Allard had worn down his hands so much that he almost always wore a pair of dark brown leather gloves the same tone as his skin. He had said he was going to retire soon.