I shuffled about in the snow. “I’d keep you here, if I could. Better to have all three of you taking down Angoulême’s forces, but I can’t leave Tristan alone in Trianon with only Sabine to watch his back. Especially given she’s more likely than most to stick a knife in it.”

“Queens don’t explain themselves.”

“I know,” I said. “I’d send one of the twins, but it seems wrong to separate them after everything they’ve been through. And Tristan is more likely to listen to you than them, anyway. Someone needs to keep him behind those walls, and there’s no one better suited to the task than you.”

“Cécile…”

“You need to make him understand that one of us needs to be out here visible and fighting. If we both stay hidden within the safety of Trianon’s walls, we’ll lose the support of the rest of the Isle. And out here, there are things that I can–” I broke off, hugging my arms around my ribs. “You’re sure you can make it back to Trianon in the dark?”

“Better in the dark than that cursed sun.” I couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but I didn’t need to to know that he was smiling. “I’ll manage. Stay safe, Cécile.”

Inclining his head, he turned to go, but I caught his arm. “Tell Tristan that…” I love him. I bit down on the words. Queens didn’t send sentimental messages, and with what I’d been feeling from Tristan since dawn, I didn’t think he’d care anyway. “Tell him to think of a way to find Angoulême. Now that our plans are awry, it’s our best chance of stopping Roland.”

He nodded once, then disappeared into the dark.

“Gran?”

She looked up from the supplies she was organizing into neat piles on the cabin shelves. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“I can’t find Joss.” I’d spent the last half hour searching the camp for my sister, but no one had seen her since dusk.

My gran jerked her head up. “Is her horse gone?”

I shook my head.

“Then like as much she’s avoiding you.” She set a jar on a shelf, but her hand remained on the lid as though she’d forgotten what she intended to do next. “I’ll find her and explain the full truth of what happened to Genevieve. She’ll come around.”

If that had been the only thing Joss was upset about, I might have agreed. But it wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know that all of this is horrible, and that it’s my fault.”