The Hemlock Queen by Hannah Whitten

Author:Hannah Whitten [WHITTEN, HANNAH]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

There are two stages to truth. When you first know it, and when you finally speak it aloud to another.

—Alia Meroux, Auverrani poet

That was all the greeting they got. Bellegarde stood aside, nearly hiding himself behind the door. Bastian and Lore entered first, wordless. Bellegarde barely acknowledged Lore but gave Bastian a deep bow.

“Stop,” Bastian said, his voice hoarse.

Bellegarde did, his back at an angle. He didn’t raise his head, but he did lift his eyes, narrowed in the gloom as he watched his King. They darted from side to side, searching Bastian’s face, and came away disappointed.

“As my King commands,” he said, and landed hard on King, as if something else should be there along with it and he was upset it stood alone.

What the fuck is his problem? The thought was idle, one that slid through Lore’s head many times on any given day.

The Kingling isn’t playing along, came Nyxara’s voice in answer. He made us get here late, when the sun is gone, when Apollius’s hold isn’t as strong.

Lore’s eyes widened, a look of quick confusion that she turned her head to hide. That was rhetorical, she said to the goddess in her head. But thank you.

Something like a laugh feathered through the back of her mind.

Alie walked over the threshold, a footman carrying her trunk behind her, and sighed as she gave the foyer a once-over. “Are times so hard you can’t spare a lamp, Bellegarde? It’s darker than the bottom of a wine barrel in here.”

If his daughter calling him by his surname rather than Father bothered the lord, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even look at her as he pivoted on his heel, striding to one side of the massive staircase curving like a horseshoe over the back of the room, leading to the second floor. “There’s plenty of light where I spend my time,” he answered, though he managed to make it seem like he was simply thinking aloud rather than addressing Alie. “Seeing as I am the only one living in Courdigne at the moment, more light seems a waste.”

So when Bellegarde was confined to his estate, he’d lost all his servants, too. Lore was surprised the man hadn’t starved to death. He didn’t strike her as self-sufficient.

The news didn’t seem to surprise Alie. Her lips twisted to the side, almost pleased.

Bastian said nothing, turning to follow Bellegarde to the stairs. He dropped Lore’s arm, but it was just so he could grab her hand instead. His palm was clammy.

Bellegarde glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flicking down to their clasped hands, then back up to Bastian. The dim light hid most of his expression, but the corner of his sneer was unmistakable.

“Congratulations,” he said, sounding anything but congratulatory. “News of your betrothal has reached even the ears of the exiles.”

“Good,” Bastian said.

Shadows slid over the lord’s face as he looked to Lore. If he’d had his way, she would be long gone.

Lore twitched her finger, making the golden gem on her ring catch the light.

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