Tristan had his boots up on my desk, lists of market prices held in one hand. “I do make your life more difficult,” he agreed, cloaking the room with magic. “But in this case, I’m making it easier.”

“How is that?” My voice was acidic, and I flung myself down on a chair, the wood creaking. “I’m supposed to be spending time with her, but she ran out like she wants nothing to do with me.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “That’s not why she ran off.”

“Really?”

“Stones and sky, but you are as blind as a bat when it comes to her.” Tossing the lists on my desk, he leaned forward. “Whether she realized it or not, her arrival was timed to coincide with you meeting with the traders. And whether you realize it or not, she’s more than capable of listening to a conversation while seeming to be embroiled in her work. She does it frequently.”

I glared at him. “You were spying on me?”

“I spy on you all the time. You and Jérôme might’ve been vague, but Pénélope isn’t stupid. She knows you were up to something – a fact you all but confirmed in your attempts to apologize for my poor behavior.”

“How is that helpful?”

Tristan made an exasperated noise. “It’s helpful in that it gives her something useful to report back to her father, but nothing so damning that we need worry about being discovered. She’s bolder when she’s angry, and I can all but guarantee that she’s off to find Christophe to exchange that sketch for information about what they’re bringing in for you. He dislikes me enough and wants the portrait badly enough that he’ll tell her that it’s all very cloak and dagger, which will arouse her suspicions even more. And if he hesitates, well… Pénélope is probably the most beautiful girl he’s ever spoken to. She’ll get the information out of him.”

My fingers ran cold. “Tristan, they’re retrieving pamphlets. If they’re caught bringing them into Trollus…”

“That’s why you’ll have Esmeralda delay the pamphlets and order something more innocuous to come via the Girards. Indecent drawings or something like that, so it makes sense they’d be ordered in Trianon rather than produced by the guild. I’ll have the twins take the delivery, and they can use them for some form of prank or another. But it gives Pénélope some evidence that we’re willing to break my father’s laws.”

It was a good plan. A really good plan. Of course it was, given that Tristan had come up with it. I picked at a scratch on my desk, knowing that I should be relieved. But I wasn’t.

“This is what we need to do to keep her safe,” Tristan said, removing his boots from my desk, his tone serious. “We toe the line and trust that she’s smart enough to make use of what we give her.”

“How long will it work?”

“As long as we need it to.” He leaned forward. “And once I’m on the throne, you have my most sincere word that I’ll pluck her out of that home and ensure her safety, no matter what Angoulême thinks about it. Then you two can… Well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”