Never did Céleste imagine she'd cry so much over a man; and especially not her own brother.
Emeric always had a temper, but this attitude, she didn't recognized. Never had he been so rash, so cruel. She had no say in her actions, her opinions, even her thoughts; and now she feared for Esther, the girl she'd pushed into Emeric's embrace without knowing his true nature.
But was this monster the real him? Or had his worries, his father's worries, brought out the worst in him?
All night, his words weaved in and out of her head, firing up with every scenario her mind could invent. In the few hours she slept, she had no dreams, but woke sweating and coughing and sobbing as if nightmares had plagued her.
In the early moments of morning, she gave up on resting and opened her curtains. She had to figure out how to meet with Sébastien, or with the King, and overturn all Emeric's nonsense. He couldn't restrict their access, could he?
Settled at the window-sill, allowing the sunlight to graze her cheeks, she sighed. Would Antoine and Sébastien visit her once Emeric showed them Prudence's note? Because he would, she had no doubt. He'd press upon Antoine the urgency, blowing the Giromian Princesses words out of proportion, and linking Céleste to them, somehow. He'd mention a coup, a conspiracy—and that would be enough to rile Antoine up.
And what would he say to Sébastien?
"That I am not trustworthy, corresponding with a foreign royal that everyone hates." A few tears slithered out and dropped into her lap. She wiped her nose, then snorted as she sat up straight. "No, they would not listen to Emeric. They trust me."
Her chapped lips and hoarse voice drew her to the sitting area to find a pitcher of water, likely brought in by a servant overnight. She poured herself a glass, downed the liquid, then poured another.
Halfway through the second cup, she realized the risk of Antoine invading was still high. Because while Céleste saw Prudence's message as an apology for leaving, Antoine would read something else in it. If anything, her letter would further encourage him to want to rescue her. He'd see her as a captive of her own mind, he'd visualize codes in her sentences, and he'd blame Romain, saying he coerced her into writing it. Her note would send him into a frenzy to recover her from those he believed to have poisoned her head and turned her against him.
I know him better than anyone thinks.
If Antoine led his men into Giroma... he'd lose. Emeric could boast about Totresian forces all he wanted, but even Céleste knew they were minuscule compared to the Giromian army.
"He will still invade. His undying love for her... no matter her rejection, her running away... it will not stop him, will it?" She flopped onto her sofa and blew out her cheeks. "He will attack Giroma to get the woman who might not want to return."
Did he understand the perils he'd put his country in by barging into Giroma and blazing up Romain's anger?
Melting into the cushions, she scrubbed her face. "I must speak with him, first. To ensure he does not act foolishly."
She jumped to her feet and dressed and dabbed powder onto her cheek-bones, rehearsing her speech in her mind—the speech she'd use to persuade whoever guarded her room to let her send a message. Or to sneak out, or to bring the King to her, or to coordinate a meeting somewhere close and in haste.
As she fastened her bodice, she winced at the vision of Emeric urging Antoine to declare war on Giroma for all the wrong reasons.
"My brother is a bully."
Someone knocked on her door, causing her to fumble with her dress sleeves as she adjusted them. Had the guard heard her plotting and summoned Emeric to scold her?
She shook out her skirts and braced for the storm. "Yes? Come in."
The arrival wasn't who she'd expected—but it was who she'd wished for, deep in her heart.
Sébastien burst into the room with a growl. He then veered around and rattled his fist at the soldier who stood watch. "I am a Prince of Totresia! Presume to bar my entry again and I will have you imprisoned, you fool!" He kicked the door closed and shuffled up to Céleste. "What on earth happened? Are you all right?"
She threw herself into his arms, and his cologne wafted into her nose. For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, she smiled. "I am fine, now. My brother happened, that is what."
"What?" He pushed her away and held her at arm's length, his eyes flashing with a flicker of rage that Céleste had rarely seen in them. "Emeric did this?" The outrage in his voice made her teeter backwards. "He gives orders and locks up my betrothed in my home? Why? How dare he?" His shoulders tensed, and Céleste pictured him shoving them into Emeric's jaw.
"He reprimanded me because I refused to heed Father's request."
Sébastien's arms twitched. "Céleste, we talked about this."
"I know, I know, but... I cannot." She hugged herself and peered at her bare feet. "I cannot renounce our friendship and shun her. Impossible. I owe her too much."
"No one said you had to mean it." Sébastien shrugged his fingers through his hair and sat on the sofa armrest. "It is a public stunt, that is all." He groaned. "You declined, so Emeric contained you here to teach you a lesson. But he seems to forget you are engaged to me. Me. The Prince. He thinks to bar me from seeing you?" He scoffed. "He is a wretched little thing, your sibling."
She held her tongue, sensing a "but" coming along.
Obey him, obey your father, play their games.
"But," he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, "I have other news that might change the tides." He gestured for her to sit near him, on the couch.
She obliged, craning her neck to look up at him as he remained on the armrest. "I must warn you about something else, something my brother might do to prod at your brother's feelings, to push him to do something stupid."
"Fine, but first," Sébastien slid onto the cushions beside her, "I must inform you that the marriage is officially annulled."
"What?" Her breaths caught in her throat. "It is over?"
Such news should have reassured her; no more Adelaide roaming the halls with her minions to stir up drama to feed to Charlotte, who would stir up more drama. Yet Adelaide's departure meant Antoine was free, with no one holding him back. It meant he had every right to be with Prudence, legally.
It gives him more motivation than ever to go after her.
"Oh dear. This is complicated." She stood up and rubbed her stomach. "When Antoine reads it..."
"When he reads what?" Sébastien rose and planted himself in her way, stopping her before she started pacing. "This should be a joyous moment. That reluctant family agreed to let him get rid of her! She is leaving!"
Céleste struggled to contain the scream she wanted to release. "Prudence wrote to me." Sébastien nodded, unfazed by the news, as if expecting it. "She said things that my brother, who stole the message from me, misinterpreted. He then locked me in here, and I worry he will show the note to Antoine—"
"—what did she say?" He stepped backwards, but didn't break eye-contact. "What could have been misinterpreted?"
She recoiled. "She implied I was in danger here, at the castle. With your family. I do not think she is aware of your mother's departure, and so she feared vipers surrounded me."
He cocked his head. "In danger? With us?" He set his fists on his hips. "Why would she say that? That could not have been her. She would never."
Every swallow burned Céleste's throat. "It was her. Her handwriting. I know it well." She walked around Sébastien and meandered to the middle of the room, keeping her back to him. "She had alluded to such worries before she left, I recall. But the King will agree with you, he will see Romain's hand in this, and my brother made it clear he would not convince him otherwise. He will insist on invasion, advise it." She winced. "And Antoine, in his desperation to retrieve her, will go in blindly to fetch her. You saw him, the other day... he is distraught, on a mission—"
"—and he will get himself killed." Sébastien's short tone prompted Céleste to whirl around and witness his expression turning into a frown. "He is still convinced she went there against her will."
"Precisely." Céleste shimmied up to him and grabbed his upper arms, squeezing. "Do you think he has seen the message? Did Emeric come to him yesterday or early this morning?"
Sébastien escaped her grasp and fell onto the couch. "Antoine spent the afternoon with Jules for wedding details."
Sitting by him, Céleste massaged his shoulder. "And my brother?"
Sébastien cupped his knees and leaned forward. "I did not see him until today, during the council where that family conceded at last. He was there, but left without a word. Antoine and I spoke in his office, and he mentioned Giroma, and apologized for convening the military... but did not speak of invading. He expressed his pleasure at purging himself from Adelaide."
"Good." A tiny wave of relief slowed Céleste's erratic heartbeats. "You must intercept Emeric and take the note from him."
"That might prove difficult," said the Prince, covering his face with his hands. "Adelaide is leaving today as soon as her things are packed. The King and the highest nobles are to escort her transport to the city's exit. Antoine did not invite me along, and he is sharing a carriage with your brother."
Céleste shot up and stomped her feet. "You must follow them! Insist on being there!"
"I would, but Antoine had specific instructions for me to investigate another matter." He straightened up and squinted at Céleste. "The leading man of that family, the one who resisted the annulment... he suggested something about Adelaide not going home. Her father sent a messenger to them to organize a transport elsewhere, but we do not know where."
Céleste scratched the back of her head. "Where else would she go but home? Discarded, unloved... surely she would rush to her father's estate, no?"
"Yes, well, her father is not a pleasant man, from what I hear, so perhaps he does not wish for her to come home because he is ashamed of her."
His words drowned out and muffled as a different voice filtered into Céleste's mind. One that stabbed at her insides and sent shocks of pain through her brain.
"A feat that would be—divorcing one King to marry another!"
"Oh, no." She clapped a hand over her mouth and marched to and fro in front of her bed. "Oh, no, no, no."
Sébastien breezed over to her and gripped her shoulders, preventing her from becoming dizzy from her pacing. "What is it?"
She clenched her gut and gritted her teeth. "I had tea with Adelaide the other day." She wrinkled her nose as Sébastien grunted. "Yes, unpleasant, for sure. She apologized for her plots, but also..." Her innards twisted, twinged, knotted. It all made too much sense now. "She mentioned other prospects. Other crowns. And Charlotte, oh Charlotte, always one step ahead..."
"What transpired with Charlotte?" Sébastien narrowed his gaze. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. It is something she said at tea on a different day. She thinks Adelaide is going after another crown too, though she presumed Spain or Italy." Céleste set her fist under her chin to keep it from collapsing. "But what if Adelaide ran after the other King who dismissed her? What if she, and her father, want another chance with Romain?"
Sébastien seized her cheeks and forced her to look at him. "You say Adelaide wants another crown. Charlotte believes it, too. And then this morning I hear Adelaide is not returning to Avignon... so she will be en route to the King she hopes to seduce? Or has already seduced?" He released her and smacked his own cheeks, causing him to moan in pain. "Merde." His eyes widened as scarlet marks formed over his skin. "Adelaide and Romain, then?"
"She wanted him before, no? Do you recall how she devoured him at the balls?" Céleste clicked her tongue. "Charlotte thinks Romain would decline her again, but who knows, with all that has taken place recently? Just to spite Antoine..."
Sébastien backed away, clasping his hands behind his neck as he glared up at the ceiling. "Spain and Italy are too far for her. Neither have available royals, as far as I am aware. She would not take a French royal, since her father wants external alliances. And England," he chortled, "England is out of the question. Yes... yes, Adelaide is heading to Giroma. I am willing to bet she wanted the annulment, and this was all planned out."
Céleste joined her hands in prayer and pressed them to her lips. "Adelaide will wed Romain, become Queen of Giroma, and once more become a threat for Prudence. I must respond to her letter!"
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