“He needs to be watched at all times,” I said. “There are only a handful of individuals we can trust with the task, and most of them are needed for more important ventures.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “And that includes you. My brother is bright and capable, but he was raised on a pig farm and you’ve abandoned him to impersonate a man raised with all the power and privilege the Isle has to offer. This is your plan, motivated by your desire for your son to have a chance at life after we triumph, but if there is to be any hope of it succeeding, you must remain present and involved.”

Her eyelid twitched. “There was a time I felt sorry for you – believed you were naught but an innocent victim. Of the trolls. Of Anushka. Of fate and chance.” She rose to her feet and dropped into a deep curtsey. “As you wish, so shall it be, Your Highness.”

Vincent let out an explosive sigh after she left. “Stones and sky, Cécile. You couldn’t have come sooner? Cursed woman has been staring at me as though I were a rabid dog.”

“Have you ever seen a rabid dog?” I asked, leaning down to listen to the lord’s breathing. Even in sleep, it seemed unsteady. Afraid.

“No.” He pushed away from the wall, coming to stand next to me. “But it’s a turn of phrase that I’ve always wanted to use.”

“The trouble with a rabid dog,” I said, resting my hand against Aiden’s forehead and frowning as he flinched, “is that no matter how much you care for it, you still have to put it down.” I straightened. “I’m afraid that when he wakes, there won’t be anything human left.”

It was several hours later when Vincent roused me from where I’d fallen asleep with my head resting on the edge of Aiden’s cot. Sabine stood just beyond, a lamp full of troll-light in one of her hands.

“Tristan give you that?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“No…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “But Tristan does want to see you – both of you. I’ll stay with Lord Aiden.”

We found Tristan in the council chamber in the company of Victoria, Marc, and my brother. I wanted to go to him, but there was an agitation in his movements that warned me to keep my distance.

“We need to act now,” he said with no preamble. “Allowing Roland to continue as he has will cost us more than we can hope to gain by waiting.”

“Tristan–”

“I know, Cécile.” His eyes ran over me, then he turned away as though what he saw was physically painful. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then who–”