His long-lost brothers. Their abilities. Their very existence.
And I’d given my word I’d keep their secret.
For one day.
I could feel Viktor with us, somehow, somewhere. His eyes were at the back of my neck, keenly watching on from a hidden distance, making sure I kept my oath, assuring himself that he and Julien were safe.
“Verity?” Alex prompted, looking worried by my silence.
I offered out a weak smile, my stomach roiling with the lie. “No. No, nothing like that. I slept like the dead.”
“How do you find the fish this evening?” Dauphine asked, far down along the opposite end of the formal dining room. I could barely see her around the staggeringly tall vases of flowers.
Earlier today—while I’d been learning the existence of Alexander’s brothers—an army of wedding designers had gone through Chauntilalie with their ideas for the best table settings and arrangements. We were meant to be trying everything out this evening, each sitting in front of a completely different set of dishes and cutlery, decorations and goblets.
I was inclined to choose my seat’s arrangement. Giant puffs of petal pink pampas grass sprung from vases on either side of my plate, allowing me a false sense of safety. I could hide away in their frothy depths, keeping a careful watch on both Dauphine and Gerard.
“Verity?” Dauphine prompted. I could see from the twitch at the corner of her lips that she wasn’t pleased to have had to ask twice.
I glanced down at the untouched salmon on my plate. A thick crust of yellow flowers had been seared to its side.
My stomach was a mess of anxious knots and I’d spent most of dinner pushing courses from one side of the plate to the other. It was exhausting to pretend that this was a normal night, that I’d not found out my future mother-in-law was a murderer, that my father-in-law-to-be was a mad scientist, experimenting on girls and babies as if they were no more than plants in his greenhouse. As if I hadn’t learned he might have the same nefarious plan for me. As if I’d not met two brothers Alex never knew existed.
Now I jumped at every unexpected movement from the periphery of my eyes, certain Gerard was coming at me with a pair of manacles and an arsenal of potions and drafts. Looking at Dauphine made my sternum ache. I could almost understand the jealous rage she must have felt when discovering Constance, but how could a mother bear to cast away her own children? I did not honestly believe the gods meted out punishments or blessings based upon behavior but in the deepest, darkest part of my heart, I was glad she’d never had any other babies.
“I was thinking it might be a nice selection for the wedding reception,” Dauphine continued. “It’s certainly different, but is it right?”
“We don’t serve fish at weddings,” Marguerite spoke up, indignant.
Her setting was full of ivory and silver, patterned in sharp angles. I’d never seen a more menacing arrangement of vases and cutlery. I studied the sour old woman, wondering what she knew of Julien and Viktor. Had she lived at Chauntilalie then? Was she aware of her two missing grandsons? I couldn’t believe it possible. If Gerard had truly sent them away because of their abilities, I’d guess he’d tell as few people as possible. He’d want his sins kept secret.
“Cold-blooded and unfeeling beasts? To celebrate a life of love?” Marguerite carried on and the ruby droplets hanging from her ears bobbled back and forth with surprising force. “We will feast on swan, as we always have.” She took a sip of her wine as if the matter was settled.
My insides curdled, imagining a slaughterhouse of the great white birds. The image morphed, turning into the memory of Constance wheeling round at me, exposed sinews and bloodied sheers gleaming.
“I think fish is a fine idea, Mother,” Alex disagreed, lost in a sea of green goblets, black flatware, and twisting bamboo. “I’m sure Verity’s family would welcome such thoughtful hospitality. It’s kind of you for thinking of them.”
I plunged my rose-gold fork into the flaky cut. My hands trembled. “Are these fennel flowers?”
Dauphine nodded, pleased I’d recognized them. “They represent endurance. Each course will be a new wish for your marriage.”
“How lovely.” I took a bite of the fish, determined to save as many swans as I could, even though everything I ate tasted of ash.
Marguerite sniffed and we lapsed into silence. It felt as though everyone’s mind was elsewhere this evening. Alex crossed his fork and knife over the empty plate and they rang unusually loud. He looked over to me, a guilty smile on his lips.
“Have you received any of my sisters’ responses yet?” I asked when the quiet grew too long.
There had been so many invitations sent out—each made of pressed flowers thin as onionskin paper, dipped rose-gold edging and lined with a row of pearls as a nod to me—that seven footmen had ridden into town, their satchels bursting with the precious stationery.
“I haven’t seen the post today. Have you, darling?” Dauphine glanced at Gerard, tilting her head to be seen around a cloud of peonies.
Gerard looked up from his plate. He’d been quiet most of the evening, setting me further on edge. His eyes were glazed over and distant, clearly working through something in his mind and patently ignoring the arrangement of uninspired roses surrounding him. “Yes, yes, I believe I have. Three letters, I think.”
Three.
Beneath the table, I ticked off their names on my fingertips.
Annaleigh.
Mercy.
Honor.
It had to be.
I’d known not to expect anything from Lenore, but where was Camille’s reply? Would she really not come, just to prove she was still upset with me? The wedding was only a week away. No matter what happened in the days between now and then, at the very least, Annaleigh would soon be here. She’d never disappoint me.
Dauphine’s mouth dropped with surprise and anger, a dark cloud hiding the sun on an otherwise brilliant day. “Three! You were supposed to send along any responses, not keep them squirreled away. Bastian and I have lists—so many lists—and if we don’t know how many guests are attending, then we can’t plan for the—”
“They’re in my study,” he said, cutting her litany blessedly short. He took a great bite of the salmon, drawing out the silence. “I’ll make sure to bring them to you.”
My heart thudded out of rhythm in my chest. The study!
“I could go get them,” I volunteered, pushing my chair from the table, my flatware clattering loudly. “It would be no trouble at all. I’d just need the key…”
Gerard blinked at me, his expression unreadable.
“We’re in the middle of dinner, child,” Marguerite gasped, peering up at me with horrified wonder. She glanced to Alex. “Is she always this excitable? Such fuss over a handful of letters.”
“Dauphine said how important they were…” I looked to her for help.
“Well, they are, of course,” she said, her eyes still sharp on Gerard. “But you needn’t miss a meal over them.”
“Don’t concern yourself, Verity,” Gerard said, waving me back down. “It isn’t worth fussing over.”
The servers arrived and changed courses.