“Thank you,” she said, sitting on one of the chairs and demurely crossing her ankles.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

“I’ve plenty of dresses, Cécile.” She took a mouthful of her wine, watching me. “Although since you stole Lessa from us, I’ve had to stand for my own fittings. It’s most bothersome.”

“I don’t mean about the dress.” And I had no intention of apologizing about Lessa.

“Oh.” I saw the dark red liquid in her cup slosh as though there’d been another tremor, but the room was still.

“You thought I’d leave today, given the chance. That was why you helped us, wasn’t it?”

“I always help Tristan when he asks something of me,” she said, composure restored.

“You’d have helped even if you’d known I wouldn’t leave?”

“I’ve never said no to him before.”

I set my glass down on the table untouched. “Enough with these vague answers. You thought I would leave and that’s why you helped. Yes or no?”

Her eyes darkened. “Yes.”

“Because if I were gone, he would spend more time with you?”

“Yes.”

“You love him?”

She drained her glass and slammed it down next to mine, cracking it. I felt power and magic roil through the room. She could snap my neck without moving. Toss me so hard against the wall my bones would shatter. But I wasn’t afraid. As much as she might hate me, she wouldn’t, couldn’t, break her word to Tristan.

“Yes.”

“Because if I were gone, then there’d be a chance he would be with you instead?”

“No.”

“You’re lying!”

Anaïs shook her head and the weight of power in the room fell away. “I cannot lie. If you’d asked me if I desired to be his wife, my answer would have been different. But it has been a long time since there was a chance of that happening.” Reaching for my untouched glass, she drained it. “For one, he has never felt that way about me. And two, I am flawed. Unfit. And there was nothing I could do to make up for it.”

I choked back a laugh of astonishment. “If you’re flawed, what does that make the rest of us? I might not like you very much, Anaïs, but you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“And I might as well be the most ugly for all the difference it makes.” She touched her chest. “My flaw lies within.”

Hefty personality flaws didn’t matter much to men when the outside was pretty, I wanted to say; but I didn’t think that was what she meant.

“You know about my sister? How she died?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Marc told me. She bled to death.”

She scowled. “He would know. Regardless, since she had the blood sickness, I have it too.”

I shook my head. “You got your fair share of scrapes during the earthshake and they’ve already healed. If you had the sickness, that wouldn’t have happened.”

“Just because it hasn’t manifested doesn’t mean I don’t have it, Cécile. It’s in me. I’d pass it down to my children.” Her shoulders slumped. “I am an unfit wife, for the future king or for anyone. I have been told so to my face by the King himself.” I watched as all her cool composure fell away, her body trembled with unshed tears. “I wasn’t good enough to marry Tristan. I am not good enough to marry anyone. No one will even touch me for fear of tarnishing my reputation. I will always be alone.”