The sound of my heart was loud in my ears, the rocks solid beneath my feet. One of the unlatched stall doors swung against the wall. Tristan’s attention jerked in the direction of the sound. He frowned and looked back at me. Worried. Curious. But unconvinced and unmoved by my force of will, which was something that had never happened to me before. There was only one way to get him to cave.

“I believe you have recently been deprived of certain documents,” I said softly. “Documents that certain individuals are eager to possess.”

Fury burned through the back of my skull. Tristan became unearthly still, unblinking. “Where are they?”

I fought the urge to step back. “Safe. Hidden.”

“You surprise me, Cécile,” he said, voice frigid. “I didn’t figure you for the backstabbing type.”

I scowled at him. “I only want the truth – you are the one who is so damnably secretive. And besides, I didn’t take them to use against you. I took them to protect you.”

His eyes widened fractionally, but I felt his surprise.

“I think you had better explain yourself,” he said.

In short, terse sentences, I explained how I had wandered into the cellar and what had happened afterwards. “If I hadn’t taken them, Angoulême would have,” I said. “And I had them hidden in my skirts when he made his offer. I could have given them to him then, but I didn’t.”

“To protect yourself.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t know about… that until after. Marc told me what happens if one of us…”

“Dies.” He finished my sentence. “You didn’t know?”

“How could I know?” I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the floor. “You trolls have taken away everything that matters to me. There is no way for me to escape on my own – I need help. Angoulême offered that to me, but I know he doesn’t mean it. He hates me and means to see me dead, I can feel it.” My hand balled into a fist and I hesitated. “But I think you would help me, if you could.”

He didn’t react. I closed my eyes and tried to read his emotions, but they were tumultuous and confusing.

“Is that your bargain, then?” he asked. “My promise to help you escape Trollus in exchange for my papers?”

“No,” I said. “I want something else.”

Silence. I didn’t bother opening my eyes to look for clues on his face. They wouldn’t be there – he had been at this game for far too long. All the clues I needed resided in my own head. Tristan was nervous. He had thought he could predict me, control me, but I’d just demonstrated otherwise.

“What?”

“I want you to tell me what those papers contain. I want to know why they are so important to you. Why they are so important to Angoulême.”

He laughed. “Of all the things in the world you could ask for, that is what you want?”