“Well, I—I just thought I might—” Her face flamed. “Perhaps I’m not wanted by the Crown, but my father will eventually search for me. Jean Luc has spies throughout the kingdom. Should I not take precautions?” At our impassive stares, she lifted her chin defiantly and repeated, “Cosette and Louise wear trousers.”

Beau spread his hands with a smirk. “And there it is.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your Majesty, please take no offense, but you are a good deal less pleasant than I would have liked to believe.”

Still chuckling, he slung an arm over Coco’s shoulder. “None taken, I assure you.”

Coco pushed him away. “He gets that a lot.”

Crooking his finger at Célie, Beau led her into the first village.

We’d decided the two of them would search for black pearls. Though not ideal, Coco and I needed to remain with Nicholina. We couldn’t easily drag her through the streets with bound and bloody hands. I shuddered to think of her actually speaking if we did find someone who sold them.

By the third village, I’d heard enough of her to last a lifetime.

She reclined atop a rock on the edge of the forest now, moaning and tugging against her rope. Her hands hung limp and useless from her wrists. Like bloody carcasses. “We’re hungry. Shall we venture into just one hamlet? Just one? Just one, just one, to have some fun?” She cast me a wicked glance. “Just one to find a sticky bun?”

I looked away from her blistered hands. Couldn’t bear the sight of them. “Shut your mouth, Nicholina.”

Coco lazed within the roots of a knotted tree while we waited. She picked at the fresh cut on her palm. “She won’t stop until you do.”

“Oooh, clever mouse.” Nicholina sat up abruptly, leering at me. “We don’t just live beneath her skin, no no no. We live beneath yours. It’s warm and it’s wet and filled with short—angry—breaths—”

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking—”

“You’ll do what?” With a cackle, she pulled at her ropes again. I pulled back. She nearly toppled from the rock. “Will you harm this pretty skin? Will you strike this freckled flesh? Will you punish us, oh husband, with a good, hard thrash?”

“Ignore her,” Coco said.

Heat suffused my face. My neck. My hands clenched the rope. I could ignore her. I could do it. She wanted a reaction. I would give her none.

Another handful of minutes passed in silence. Then—

“We need to relieve ourselves,” Nicholina pronounced.

I scowled and shook my head. “No.”

“Perhaps in the trees?” She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Perhaps they deserve it. Naughty, naughty trees. Perhaps they’ll observe it.” Rising to her feet, she cackled at her own perverse joke. I tugged her rope irritably.

“I said no.”