“From what Christophe told us, it sounds as though it was inevitable.” She withdrew her hand from the jar. “If you’ve come for absolution, you’re wasting your breath, child. You made your decision, and now is not the time to beg for forgiveness, it’s time to make things right.”

“I’m trying.” I sighed and sat down on a cot, my body so very weary. “I need a favor.”

“Oh?”

“There’s a spell I need cast.” Pulling a scrap of paper from my pocket, I fiddled with the corners.

My gran sniffed. “From what I’ve heard, you’re more than capable of doing your own casting. And more than willing to delve into magics that you shouldn’t.”

“This isn’t anything like that,” I said. “And I need your help because the spell is for me.”

She eyed me up and down. “What is it you need done?”

I’d been thinking about this since I made the decision not to go back to Trianon. Staying was a risk, because of a surety, the Winter Queen would figure out I was here, if she hadn’t already. My name had been used, and she would know these were my family members. My people. I couldn’t trust that Vincent and Victoria would always be there to watch over me.

“I need you to help me forget something,” I said, my heart heavy as I focused on Tristan. Cold. Emotionless. “I need to forget a name.”

I was staggering on exhausted feet back to the cabin to get some sleep when my sister stepped into my path. “Cécile? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Nodding, I motioned for Vincent to give us a moment, then closed the distance between us. “You look frozen,” I said, taking her hands, which felt like icicles, between mine and squeezing them. Her blonde hair was so coated with frost it appeared white, and her cheeks and nose were cherry red. “Come inside with me to warm up at the fire.”

“In a bit.” Her teeth chattered. “I wanted to say sorry for how I acted. I should’ve heard you out before reacting the way I did.”

“It’s all right,” I said, wrapping my arms around her in an attempt to ward away the chill. “I don’t blame you for being upset. No matter how you look at it, our mother is dead.” My eyes burned. “And I’m so sorry for how you found out.”

Her arms tightened around me. “I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I don’t see how we can win without help.” Her voice took on a desperate edge. “Why won’t Tristan leave Trianon to fight his brother?”

Stones and sky, but I was too tired for this conversation. I could barely think straight, and I was wary of saying the wrong thing and setting her off again. “He can’t, Joss. At least, not yet.”