The Golden Duchess (#3 in the GOLDEN series)

•T H I R T Y - T H R E E•

Cordelia smacked his shoulder. "Unsure? You should be certain!" She sent her fiery gaze towards Jules. "You all should be! Father committing a grave crime against a foreign monarch? Yes, he abhorred Giroma, but to stoop so low? I will not believe it."

All spun to Antoine as he coughed into his hand. "I knew Father best, spent the most time with him. Yes, he had secrets... but not that. Gregor died of an illness, as Westten Court informed us. It was in his official paperwork. No one assassinated Gregor. That stupid son of his is playing us."

"Romain implied Edouard might have hired someone to do it. To wash his hands clean of it," said Marguerite, her voice low in her throat.

When Antoine's neck whipped up and his eyes met hers, she stifled a gasp. There was the violence again—zigzagging across his face in strikes of lightning, yanking the corners of his lips down, painting his cheeks red. His fists were so tight she imagined his gloves would tear apart at any second.

"Romain? On a first name basis, are we?" His stance widened, but it wasn't one of defense; it was one of attack. "So you believe him? You would heed his words—the spoiled brat of a King we all despise—over four people you grew up with and know almost better than yourself?"

Torn between growling at him or bolting out of the clearance, she sucked in a breath and straightened up. "King Romain had some convincing points. Need I remind you your mother has been corresponding with his? Does that not appear odd to you?"

Jules' jaw sank again. "Mother corresponds with Dowager Pauline?"

"That is news," muttered Sébastien, tugging at a few scruffy hairs on his chin. "Did you know this, Antoine?"

The King huffed and writhed about, kicking at dead leaves. "I did, because Marguerite told me."

"And I told Marguerite," added Cordelia, her features still stern, "so that part is true."

"Well... that appears off to me." Jules rubbed the back of his neck. "Mother in talks with Romain's mother? Why? That strikes me as confusing. Is Pauline seeking information? Demanding that Mother confess Father's supposed crimes?"

Sébastien set his fist beneath his chin. "But could they be discussing terms of peace, too? Father was against it, but what if Mother is not? What if she and Pauline, as women, have come to some sort of agreement? What if she sent Romain here to negotiate, not to stir drama?"

Jules peered at his brother in mocking amusement. "Sure, but he is stirring drama by informing Marguerite of such things!"

"Here is something no one has wondered." Antoine sneered. "Are we certain Marguerite is telling the truth?"

"Antoine!" said Marguerite and Sébastien at the same time, both walking up to the Totresian King.

"Why would she lie?" Cordelia glanced at Marguerite, then at Antoine with tightening eyebrows. "Whatever his purpose, King Romain has caused discord between us. Was that what he meant to do?"

Cordelia, wiser beyond her years.

"Not impossible," said Marguerite, hesitating to take Antoine's hand, to haul him away from his worsening anger, to tether him to her. "I felt obligated to tell you, but what you choose to believe is up to you. My work is done."

Antoine snarled at her and flipped around, stomping up to a tree. He kicked at its trunk once, twice, three times, then snatched a few twigs and threw them across the clearing. "Obligated to cause panic among us? Because of that vile man's schemes?" He kept his back to her, but his profile showed him baring his teeth. "He likes you, and is trying to turn you against us. First Father, then me. How do you not see his game? You who always sees the patterns, always figures things out, you do not grasp his intentions?