He shook his head. “There wasn’t a chance, and I told her so. Told her I’d do everything in my power to keep both my sisters far away from her. And not an hour after our argument, I found myself halfway to the Hollow dead set on bringing Cécile back with me. Even though I knew that wasn’t what I wanted.”

Unease weighed me down as I realized the implications of his tale.

Fred rubbed his thumbs against his temples, jaw clenching and unclenching. “I knew what she was, then. And I knew that I needed to get away from her, so I moved into the barracks and refused to see her.” He swallowed audibly. “Days later, my horse died. My bunkmate fell ill. And then there was a girl I fancied, and she…” He broke off. “She flung herself off a bridge in full sight of witnesses. For no reason. None at all.”

He lifted his face to meet my gaze. “She didn’t need me to convince Cécile to come to Trianon, but that didn’t matter to her. Anyone who isn’t a slave to her will is her enemy, and she lives for taking revenge. And I knew if she caught me trying to stop Cécile from moving to Trianon that the consequences would be disastrous. Next, it could have been my father falling in front of a wagon or Josette… I couldn’t risk it.”

Gone now was any doubt that Genevieve knew of her powers and how to use them. But more than that, Fred’s story spoke of a personality, a way of being, that was eerily familiar. Warnings ran through my head, an idea, a notion that had never crossed my mind before abruptly coming to the forefront. That our target was hidden right in front of us.

But how? Genevieve’s birth and life were documented and known with certainty. She was not five centuries old, and that was fact. So she could not be Anushka. It was impossible. It had to be something else – that Genevieve was under Anushka’s compulsion. That the other witch was affecting her behavior. But why? What was the point of doing so, when all she needed was Genevieve’s life?

Tristanthysium, be wary. One of our friends is foe. Trust no one. Cécile’s voice interrupted my thoughts, demanding my attention. I waited, but nothing further echoed in my ears. Swearing, I started down the hall toward the ballroom, but Fred caught my sleeve. “When this is over, promise you’ll take Cécile away from her. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”

If only I could. “I’ll do everything in my power to protect Cécile. No one is more precious to me than her.”

Although at the moment, no one was frustrating me more than her. Why was Cécile being obscure? Did she mean Genevieve? Was that what she’d discovered? But then why not tell me clearly?

I ground my teeth together. It was almost time to consider my alternative plan of action.