“The crowd, in its collective wisdom, put these two facts together and came up with story that nicely filled in the chasm between them. Clearly the lovely Sanguinaire girl had rebuked the beastly Seelenjäger. Rejected, he became enraged and tried to force himself on her. The particulars of the story diverge from that point depending on who is telling it. The most popular version is that Eulalie’s father discovers his daughter’s humiliation, revenges himself on Bitterlich, and marries his daughter to the first man who will take her in haste before he finds out she’s damaged goods.”

“That’s appalling,” Isabelle said, cold and sick and outraged all at once. Bitterlich would never do such a thing. At least, not the Bitterlich she knew. How different had he been at age sixteen? She cringed to remember what a nitwit she had been when she was younger.

“Oh yes,” Coquetta said. “Every word of it is horrible, and therefore delicious, and far too outlandish to ever be completely forgotten. The truth, if it were anything less interesting, could not compete with the story and would never serve to banish it.”

Isabelle sought a defining flaw in the story. “If that’s true, wouldn’t Eulalie’s father have killed Bitterlich?”

“You could make that argument,” Coquetta said. “Many have, but his detractors point out that he was Grand Leon’s ‘special pet,’ and murdering him would have been a great risk.”

“But—”

Coquetta raised a forestalling hand. “Unfortunately, Capitaine, this is not a rumor you can resolve with reason. The only thing that matters is whether you trust Bitterlich more than you trust Belda.”

This suggestion left Isabelle no less unsettled. Rape was not an accusation she wanted to hear leveled at her friend. “And what does Eulalie say about all this?” Isabelle asked.

“As far as I know, she’s never said a word about it, and no one of any good taste would ever ask her either.” Coquetta said this last bit pointedly. “In fact, getting you to bring the rumor to Eulalie’s attention may be Belda’s intent. If she can get you to offend la reine vis-à-vis her confidante, it might cost your commission—”

“And she could suggest a replacement,” Isabelle said. A return on her investment, indeed.

Then Isabelle’s brain caught up with what Coquetta had said. “Wait. Did you say the comtesse is here?”

“You really have had your head buried in the military minutiae, haven’t you? Eulalie is a founding member of the Succoring Shadows and a primary sponsor of this teaching hospital. She’ll be in the first class of students and she’ll be helping Sireen dedicate the place.”

Isabelle felt suddenly queasy. “Bitterlich is supposed to meet me here.”