Blanche put a hand to her throat, but the Queen managed a chuckle.

“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I?” she asked. “De Vrailly won’t give me a day to rest.”

Ser Gabriel was cutting sausage with his eating knife. “I fancy it is the archbishop at the root of this, and not poor de Vrailly.”

“Poor de Vrailly?” Desiderata asked, and the open malice in her voice was the Queen that Blanche knew. Human. And angry.

“He’s a pawn,” Ser Gabriel said. “We are all pawns.”

“Now you sound like de Rohan,” she said. “Yes, I can ride tomorrow. Or right now, if you let me have more cheese first. Promise me you’ll feed Blanche, too. She’s done nothing but ride and work all day.”

Ser Gabriel nodded. He put the last piece of cheese in her mouth as if she was an infant. “I can give you about eight more hours,” he said. “Unless the news is bad.”

“Worse than the death of your mother?” Desiderata asked. “I’m sorry, that was pert.”

Ser Gabriel managed a smile. “Yes. Many things could be worse. Mater and I seldom saw eye to eye.”

“You saved me,” Desiderata said again. “I will never forget it.”

Ser Gabriel chuckled. It was a dark sound with no pleasure in it. “Can I tell you something?” he asked. He was cutting the apple into slices.

Blanche suspected that they’d forgotten she was there, but as a servant to royals, she was used enough to the feeling. But the Red Knight’s manner scared her.

The knife paused on the apple.

“Yes, if you will,” Desiderata said.

“My mother wanted me to be King,” he said.

Desiderata’s breath was loud.

The small eating knife rested against the apple’s skin. And cut.

“It is the deepest irony,” the Red Knight said, “that on the very night of her death, I have you and your babe under my hand.”

He reached out, a piece of apple pressed to the knife blade by the pressure of his thumb. The knife blade passed within a fraction of an inch of the Queen’s mouth and all but rested on her cheek as he pressed the apple slice between her lips.

The Queen’s eyes were locked on his.

Sweet Christ, he seemed so nice.

Blanche was moving, but she was too far away.

“You never wanted to be King,” Desiderata said. If the knife troubled her, she didn’t give a sign. Blanche’s lunge was checked by the pail of water, over which she tripped.