Genevieve waited with her husband outside the king’s chambers. Altfor seemed nervous, looking this way and that like a boy afraid of being caught stealing pastries. Of course, Genevieve knew he was capable of far more than that without flinching. Genevieve watched him closely, trying to pick up on any sign of weakness.
“His majesty will see you now,” a guard said, exiting the room. He was escorting a pair of young women who looked as though they were from the cage before. Genevieve only managed to hide her disgust with an effort.
She stood with Altfor, and they made their way into the king’s chambers together.
“Embarrass me,” Altfor said, “and I’ll make you pay for it.”
Genevieve had put up with enough of his threats. “And what violence will you visit against your pregnant wife, husband? Maybe I need to worry about you embarrassing me.”
He turned as if he might strike her, but Genevieve was already stepping past him, into a room that turned out to be an antechamber to the main bedroom, and which held a large table on which a map of the kingdom was spread out.
King Carris was waiting for them, dressed casually in untucked shirt and breeches, his tunic slung across the back of a chair. Genevieve curtseyed to him, and she saw Altfor bow.
“So,” the king said, “you have come to my court looking for my help, Altfor.”
“My king,” Altfor said, “I think we can help one another. I provide the proof of the crimes that Royce has committed, and a reminder to your lords that Earl Undine went against your command that they are not to war with one another. I also know the lands around my father’s home as well as anyone.”
“You are right,” the king said with a nod. He turned to Genevieve. “And you will want your son to inherit, of course. I understand that congratulations are in order, my lady.”
Genevieve did her best to hide her surprise. Even so, the king laughed.
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, both of you,” he said. “Did you think my apothecary wouldn’t tell me every bit of business that comes through his door? I find out more about the petty comings and goings of my lords through their visits to him than through any number of spies.”
“Although I’m sure that you have many spies too, my king,” Genevieve said.
That earned another laugh from the king. “I like you, Genevieve of the House of Nors. Your husband chose well with you. Even so, Altfor, the crown requires more from you than just a cause and a beautiful wife. If you want your lands back, you will have to help with retaking them.”
“I will fight,” Altfor promised. “And I know which among the lords there will fight on our side. I can send messengers to them. I can also show your majesty which spots on the coast will be safe to land in, so that we can hit Royce’s forces from both sides.”
“Strike from the north as well as the south,” King Carris said. He stroked his beard. “Yes, I like it. The threat of my forces will draw them out, and then the bulk of them will strike from behind as they turn to face the threat. Show me where these places are, Duke Altfor, and give me the names of the lords who are still loyal.”
Genevieve waited quietly, listening as carefully as she could. Unfortunately, her attentiveness caught Altfor’s eye.
“Perhaps, my king,” he said, “my wife could be excused now that the pleasantries are done? After all, the planning of war is hardly women’s work.”
“You’re right, Duke Altfor,” the king said. “We have much detailed planning, and I’m sure that your lady wife will want to seek other diversions in the castle. Please go, my lady. My servants will find rooms for you. I promise not to keep your husband from you for too long.”
It was a dismissal, even if it was an elegant one, and Genevieve couldn’t think of a way to get around it without making it obvious that she was trying to spy on what followed. Altfor smiled at her in a way that made it clear he knew he’d outsmarted her.
Genevieve left the room, and when the door shut firmly behind her she had to resist the urge to put her ear to the door and listen. That would make what she was doing far too obvious. Instead, she wandered out into the castle’s courtyard. This was where she could find out more, wandering from spot to spot, listening as best she could while servants and peasants talked and gossiped. She could see the men gathering weapons and moving from place to place; maybe she would be able to piece together enough hints to learn what was happening.
“My lady?” a woman’s voice said. “Lady Genevieve?”
Genevieve turned to see a young woman she didn’t know, dressed in dark clothes and looking far more certain now about who Genevieve was.
“You are Genevieve?” she said. “Sheila’s sister?”
That caught Genevieve’s attention. “How do you know my sister? Who are you?”
“My name…” The woman shook her head. “You can call me Jani. It’s not my name, but… I have to be careful, you understand?”
“I understand,” Genevieve said. “My sister sent you?”
Jani took a letter from a fold of her clothes. “She wasn’t sure where you would be, but since you were trying to catch up with Altfor, I thought eventually you would end up where the king was.” She looked around sharply. “We can’t do this here.”
She led the way to a nook in the shade of an awning, where they couldn’t be seen by the rest of the people in the courtyard. She held the letter out for Genevieve to take.
“Sheila has found a place in Fallsport. Her people… the letter will explain.”
Genevieve wanted to ask Jani more questions then, but instead she took the letter almost hungrily, eager to have any news of her sister. She tore the seal on the letter away, opening the folded sheet of parchment and reading. She recognized her sister’s writing, careful and precise, as if Sheila had to concentrate on each letter. It wasn’t as if either of them had much call to write often, back in the village.
I hope that this reaches you safely, dear sister. I am safe, in the place that you planned for me to go. I have taken the money that you gave me and used it as best I can, building contacts in the city, and people who owe me favors. I am respected here now, and if you come, or if you need anything, I hope that I will be able to provide it. Please, do what you can to stay safe. I know you are set on what we discussed, but I do not wish to lose a sister. I am ready to come do my part when you call, or send those who can do it. You can trust the one who bears this letter. Tell her anything, and it will be in confidence.
Your loving sister, Sheila.
There was so much in there that was couched in careful language, presumably in case someone got hold of the letter. It didn’t mention Genevieve by name, and didn’t give any indication of the deadliness of what she and her sister had planned. There was enough in it, though, that Genevieve was sure it was a genuine letter from her sister, and that made relief flood through her. Sheila had made it to Fallsport, and it seemed that she was not only safe, but thriving.
“If you wish to go to your sister, my lady,” Jani said. “I will find a way to get you to her.”
It was tempting—so tempting that for a moment Genevieve almost took her up on the offer. But she hadn’t fled before when she’d had the chance, and she wasn’t going to flee now.
“I need to be here,” Genevieve said. “I can do the most good here, but you can do something for me. I overheard information, and I need to get it to Royce.”
“Sheila can get information to anyone,” Jani promised. She held out a quill and an ink pot. “Set it on the reverse of the letter. I will get it to her, and she will get it to Royce. Then I will return, and if you change your mind…”
Genevieve took the parchment from the courier, trying to work out the best way to set down what she’d learned. She quickly realized that there was no cunning way to say this without saying it, as Sheila had. Instead, Genevieve set down what the king and Altfor had said, hoping that it would be enough, even without the detail.
The king and Altfor plan to use ships to attack from the north, with a southern force as a distraction. They are trying to identify lords who will join their attack. I… tell Royce that I love him.
Genevieve hesitated, and then scratched through that part. She couldn’t put it in writing, not even to her sister. Folding the parchment, she passed it to Jani.
“Have Sheila get this to Royce, and quickly. He needs to know about this before the king attacks.”
“I will do all I can,” the courier promised. “Are you sure that you do not wish to leave?”
Genevieve shook her head. “I’m needed here. Now, I’d better go; when Altfor finishes with the king, he’ll be looking for me.”
***
Genevieve found a servant to take her to the rooms that the king had promised, and when the woman led her there, she found them to be spacious, open, and elegant. They were also far from the courtyard and the gossip that it promised, the lack of information making her fingers itch with the urge to be doing something.
Instead, she had to make herself sit, waiting for the moment when Altfor would return. It seemed like an age before he did so; an age set sitting and wondering if she’d done the right thing by sending what she had to her sister. Had she put too much in writing, or not enough? If she’d managed to listen for more…
“Genevieve, where are you?” Altfor called out, slamming open the door. He’d clearly been drinking with the king, and there was a dangerous flush to his cheeks as he entered. “If you’re my wife, then I mean to have you as my wife.”
Genevieve stood, moving to meet him. Perhaps once she would have stood quietly for him, but not now.
“Perhaps you should try treating me as your wife,” she said.
Altfor raised his hand as if he would strike her, but Genevieve stood there calmly, forcing herself to give no ground.
“The laws are still clear,” she said. “I am your wife, and a noble. Strike me, and I’ll see that every noble here learns that Altfor of House Nors is a man to beat his pregnant wife.”
Altfor paused, and then lowered his hand.
“Very well,” he said. “But if you think that we are somehow equals in this marriage, you are mistaken, Genevieve. You are mine, as much as you were on the day my father gave you to me.”
Genevieve continued to stand there. “I came back to you, didn’t I? I sought you out. We don’t have to be at odds.”
“You make it sound as though you’re suddenly in love with me,” Altfor said. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? He’s the one you love, isn’t he?”
Genevieve couldn’t deny it, couldn’t say outright that she didn’t love Royce. Even so, she did her best to make Altfor believe that it was him she cared about.
“You’re the one I followed,” she said, hoping he would never learn the way she’d gone to Royce first. “You’re the one whose child I carry, and whose wife I am. We are stronger together. I can help you with the king, and our child—”
“The child you carry is the only reason I don’t teach you your place,” Altfor said. “That is what you are: a receptacle to carry my heir. Yes, you are my wife, and you will stay by my side, but let’s not pretend that this is a true marriage now. I will keep you, and I will treat you as a wife in public, but in private… you are mine, and I will treat you any way I wish.”
“Try,” Genevieve said, drawing her eating knife.
Altfor laughed at that. “Maybe another time, when there’s no chance of hurting my heir. In the meantime, you’re safe enough. You can watch the other women I take to my bed. As I recall, that amused you well enough the last time around.”
Genevieve gritted her teeth and tried not to think about catching Altfor with Moira. The betrayal there hadn’t been him; it had been that she’d thought Moira was her friend. Genevieve forced herself to smile.
“I am happy for you to do as you will,” Genevieve said. “As your wife, I’m sure I support you in all things.”
“Happy,” Altfor said, with a smile that said he didn’t believe it. “And since you’re my wife, I’m sure you support me in my efforts to get my lands back as well.”
“Of course,” Genevieve lied.
“So you will be happy to accompany me and King Carris as we proceed to the north to slaughter the traitors there. You will be happy to watch them punished as all traitors must be, with death.”
Genevieve made herself nod. “As you wish, my husband.”
“No, as I require,” Altfor said. “Say it.”
“As you require,” Genevieve replied, but she was already thinking of all the ways that she could use the situation to help both herself and Royce. She’d only been able to get a little information about what the king planned today, but like this, here with Altfor, she would be able to get more.
As Altfor reached out for her, Genevieve just had to remind herself that all of this was so she could find out what was needed. She would get the details of the attack, and send them to Royce…
…and then she would stand by happily while she watched her “beloved” husband killed by the man she actually loved.