The bolt slid, and I broke off the thought. The door opened to reveal Monsieur Johnson, resplendent with a sprig of rowanberries on his collar. “Ah, Cécile, you look marvelous!” he said, beaming from between the two guards who flanked him. “You must come with me; we are about to begin. Are you ready?”

I nodded, though I wouldn’t be ready if I had a thousand years to prepare. This would be the performance of my lifetime.

Chapter 53

Tristan

Tristanthysium… My name twisted through my mind, and I tensed, waiting for the answer my people had sought for centuries. But Cécile said nothing more. Which made me very worried.

“Tristan?”

I refocused, realizing Fred had spoken to me. “Pardon?”

“Someone will realize I’m not him.” Fred rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, then tugged at the sleeves of his borrowed coat.

“Unlikely,” I said, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand. Something had happened to Cécile – something that had shocked and horrified her, and only the knowledge that she was physically unharmed kept me from running her direction. She’d called my name, but given me nothing more. “No one knows such a thing is possible, so why would they suspect anything?”

Fred nodded, but his Aiden-mask betrayed his doubt.

“Make sure the castle is locked down,” I said, repeating the plan we’d discussed this afternoon. “The gates closed. No one enters and no one leaves. And above all, keep Marie from interfering.”

“All right.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t care much about what happens to Genevieve, but promise you’ll keep my sister safe.”

I needed to get back to the ballroom, but I felt the need to understand the nature of the conflict between Genevieve and her son. “What did she do to you to make you hate her so?”

Fred went very still, then he quietly replied, “It’s not so much what she did as who she is.”

I waited for him to continue.

“I didn’t hate her before I came to Trianon,” he finally said. “Quite the opposite. I thought she was magical – this beautiful nice-smelling woman who came and went like a dream. And when she told me how wonderful my life would be if I came to live with her, of course I couldn’t say no. But…” he broke off. “It wasn’t enough for her. She wasn’t satisfied with me leaving the Hollow, she wanted me to turn my back on everyone I’d grown up with. Loving her wasn’t enough: she needed me to hate my father. Not just to see her side, but to take it. There was no middle ground, and when I tried to find it…”

“She made you pay,” I finished for him.

Fred nodded. “It seemed every time I tried to make plans to go home to visit, something would interfere. I didn’t think much of it at first, but eventually I saw a pattern. That she was orchestrating it. And when I disagreed with her or went against her wishes, something would go wrong. My horse would turn up lame. Possessions would go missing. I’d get sick. But the worst thing was her obsession with my sister. She wanted to know everything about her, and most of all, she wanted me to convince Cécile to come to Trianon.”