“I’m not—”
“Stop lying to me.” Ludivine rose to pace across the room. When she turned back, her face was flushed, her eyes bright. “How could you have kept this from me? We trust each other. I would never have let anything happen to you.”
“It was not your truth to know,” Rielle said tightly.
“And what truth is that? What happened out there? What are you?”
That was a blow. Rielle’s voice unraveled. “I wish I knew.”
“The prophecy says…” Ludivine paused, gathering herself. “‘They will carry the power of the Seven.’ The two Queens are foretold to be able to control all the elements, not just one.”
Rielle let out a harsh, tired laugh. “Are you really explaining the prophecy to me?”
“People will think you are one of them.”
“I’m well aware of that, Lu.”
“Rumors are already circulating. The city—”
“Is terrified?” Rielle rubbed shaky hands across her face. “They’re not alone.”
“I thought we had no secrets between us.”
“I can make it go away. I just…need more time.”
“Make it go away? What, as though this power you have is a bad mood? Those are your father’s words.”
Rielle closed her eyes. “Father. God help me.”
“He is with the king now.”
Rielle quailed at that, but she forced up her chin. “I won’t let them kill me.”
Ludivine’s expression softened. “Rielle…”
“They can try, and I’m sure they will. But I won’t let them.” She stood, her head throbbing.
Ludivine gently caught Rielle’s wrist, then cradled Rielle’s face in her hands. Rielle let her eyes fall closed. Ludivine’s scent—lavender oil and clean skin—enveloped her in memory: Morning walks in the gardens, their arms linked. Childhood nights curled up between Ludivine and Audric by the wide hearth in his rooms.
“I won’t let them hurt you either,” Ludivine repeated, her voice firm and clear. “Never. Do you hear me?”
Rielle tried for lightness. “Oh, and what will you do? Sweet Lady Ludivine would not hurt even a fly, I’ve been told.”
Ludivine smiled. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rielle stopped her. The moment of calm had brought forth a memory.
“Someone spoke to me,” she said abruptly.
Ludivine frowned, blinking. “What?”
“Before. I saw the fire, and I couldn’t stand up. Audric caught me, and…then I heard someone speak to me.”
“You mean, Audric spoke to you?”
“No. Someone else. It was…” Rielle paused, trying to recall the exact feeling, and her skin thrilled as though someone had drawn a feather across her belly. “It came from inside me.”
Ludivine arched an eyebrow. “Audric’s healer did say you might have a slight fever.”
“No, Lu, I’m telling you—”
Someone pounded on the outer door of Ludivine’s apartment, prompting the maid from before to hurry in a moment later, her eyes wide. She glanced over her shoulder. “Begging your pardon, my lady, but you have a visitor…”
Ludivine kept Rielle’s hand in hers. “Lady Rielle is not ready to receive visitors just yet.”
“Apologies, my lady, I tried to tell them—”
“It’s the king,” Rielle said. “Isn’t it?”
The maid would not meet her eyes. “We were ordered to send word as soon as you’d awoken, my lady.”
“His Majesty has many questions, Rielle,” came a voice she knew well.
Lord Commander Armand Dardenne strode in from the sitting room, pushing open the door to Ludivine’s bedroom without bothering to knock. He was steel and iron, every inch of him impeccable. He regarded his daughter with all the warmth of a statue.
She started forward. “Is Tal—？”
“Grand Magister Belounnon has already been questioned by the councils,” he continued, “as have I. You’re next. Make yourself presentable.”
Without another word, Ludivine and her maids helped Rielle behind the dressing screen and into a muted dress of dusky blue and ivory, with a high collar and ribboned sleeves. It was pretty enough to charm, demure enough not to offend.
“Should I be angry that you sent your maids to root through my wardrobe without my permission?” Rielle murmured with half a laugh.
“I couldn’t care less if you’re angry or not,” Ludivine said, straightening Rielle’s skirts. “All these years of my guidance, and I still don’t trust you to pick the appropriate gown for any occasion.”