“First I was subjected to witchwater falling from the tower. Now there is a dragon in my hallway.
This is what comes of having witches in the family.” Ysabeau appeared in a pale silk suit that perfectly matched the color of the Champagne in the glass she took from Victoire. “There are days when I cannot help thinking the Congregation is right to keep us apart.”
“Drink, Madame de Clermont?” Victoire turned to me, rescuing me from the need to respond.
“Thank you,” I replied. Her tray held not only wine but also glasses filled with ice cubes containing blue borage flowers and mint leaves, topped up with sparkling water.
“Hello, sister.” Verin sauntered out of the salon behind Ysabeau wearing knee-high black boots and an exceedingly short, sleeveless black dress that left more than a few inches of her pearly white legs exposed, as well as the tip of the scabbard strapped to her thigh.
Wondering why Verin thought she needed to dine armed, I reached up with nervous fingers and drew the golden arrowhead from where it had fallen inside the neck of my blouse. It felt like a talisman, and it reminded me of Philippe. Ysabeau’s cold eyes latched on to it.
“I thought that arrowhead was lost forever,” she said quietly.
“Philippe gave it to me on my wedding day.” I started to lift the chain from my neck, thinking it must belong to her.
“No. Philippe wanted you to have it, and it was his to bestow.” Ysabeau gently closed my fingers around the worn metal. “You must keep this safe, my child. It is very old and not easily replaced.”
“Is dinner ready?” Baldwin boomed, arriving at my side with the suddenness of an earthquake and his usual disregard for a warmblood’s nervous system.
“It is,” Alain whispered in my ear.
“It is,” I said brightly, plastering a smile on my face.
Baldwin offered me his arm.
“Let’s go in, Matthieu,” Ysabeau murmured, taking her son by the hand.
“Diana?” Baldwin prompted, his arm still extended.
I stared up at him with loathing, ignored his proffered arm, and marched toward the door behind Matthew and Ysabeau.
“This is an order, not a request. Defy me and I will turn you and Matthew over to the Congregation without a second thought.” Baldwin’s voice was menacing.
For a few moments, I considered resisting and to hell with the consequences. If I did, Baldwin would win. Think, I reminded myself. And stay alive. Then I rested my hand atop his rather taking his elbow like a modern woman. Baldwin’s eyes widened slightly.
“Why so surprised, brother?” I demanded. “You’ve been positively feudal since the moment you arrived. If you’re determined to play the role of king, we should do it properly.”
“Very well, sister.” Baldwin’s fist tightened under my fingers. It was a reminder of his authority, as well as his power.
Baldwin and I entered the dining room as though it were the audience chamber at Greenwich and we were the king and queen of England. Fernando’s mouth twitched at the sight, and Baldwin glowered at him in response.
“Does that little cup have blood in it?” Sarah, seemingly oblivious to the tension, bent over and sniffed at Gallowglass’s plate.
“I did not know we still had these,” Ysabeau said, holding up one of the engraved silver beakers.
She gave me a smile as Marcus settled her into the spot to his left while Matthew rounded the table and did the honors for Phoebe, who sat opposite. “I had Alain and Marthe search for them. Philippe used them at our wedding feast.” I fingered the golden arrowhead. Courtly Ernst pulled out my chair. “Please. Everybody sit.”