Grave Mercy (Book I) (His Fair Assassin Trilogy) by LaFevers Robin

Author:LaFevers, Robin [LaFevers, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2012-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

The newly adjourned courtiers erupt in excited, nervous voices. Crunard motions for the guards and they throw open the large doors at the back of the chamber so the nobles may begin filing out of the room. I do not have a clear plan, but unable to help myself, I move to follow d’Albret. I am like a small boat moving against the tide of the crowd, but I ignore the bumps and stares that come my way, my attention never leaving my target.

A practical knight at arms opens the small door to the side of the chamber in order to allow some people out that way. D’Albret moves in that direction, and so I too begin making for that door, silently cursing the laggards and dullards who stand between me and d’Albret. I cannot accept that Mortain has not seen fit to marque d’Albret for his threat—for after all, he is half Breton and owes some allegiance to the rightful duchess.

When d’Albret steps out into the hall beyond, he is surrounded by nearly a score of his own men-at-arms. Merde. I cannot take on that many armed men.

“Demoiselle Rienne!” There is a tug on my skirt and I glance down to find a young page. “What is it?” I ask.

“Chancellor Crunard requests you attend him immediately.”

I cast one last frustrated glance at d’Albret’s retreating back, then give my full attention to the boy. “Did he say what it was about?”

“No, milady, but please come.”

Hoping that the chancellor has received news from the convent, I let the boy lead me to his chamber. The page knocks once on the door, then opens it. If Chancellor Crunard is ruffled by the disastrous Estates meeting, he hides it well. “Come in, demoiselle,” he says as the page scampers away.

His desk is nearly as large as a bed and has a neat stack of correspondence on one side and three maps on the other; there is also a small pot of ink and a handful of quills. He does not offer me a seat. Instead, he rises and moves to the window. After a long moment of silence, he turns to face me, his expression impassive. “Where were you hurrying off to?”

I meet his gaze steadily. Only my promise to Duval of utmost secrecy prevents me from telling him of the duchess’s newest suitor and the hope he offers her. “To see if I could convince Mortain to give me permission to remove Count d’Albret.”

He blinks in surprise. Whatever he expected me to say, it was not this. His face relaxes and I detect a glint of humor in his eyes. “By all means, search d’Albret for one of those marques. Then we can be done with him and move on to equally pressing problems.”

While I am surprised to learn that Crunard knows of the marques—he is even more in the abbess’s confidence than I realized—I am pleased that we are in agreement on this. He turns back to the window. “Have you learned anything further of Duval and his true motives?” he asks.

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