“Well, sweet saints, Lu!” Rielle rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Why didn’t you ever say anything to us? I didn’t think… I mean, I hoped, but…”
Ludivine’s smile was wicked. “Watching you may have been exhausting, but it was also entertaining. I could hardly resist that. Court is dull as toast most of the time.”
Rielle threw up her hands. “What, and you would’ve waited to tell us the truth on the day of your wedding, I suppose?”
“Oh, I would have long before that.” Ludivine drew Rielle’s arm back through hers and continued down the stairs. “But why ruin my fun? Though I confess,” and here Ludivine’s voice became quite grave, “I regret my choice not to tell you that I knew sooner. I could have saved us all a lot of trouble. And now…”
“What will happen?” Rielle asked as they walked down another quiet residential street. “Now that your father has seen.”
“He will speak to the king, of course,” said Ludivine, “and ensure that the betrothal agreement remains intact.”
Rielle’s throat constricted painfully. “Of course.”
“I don’t expect he will make life pleasant for you. Neither will my aunt, the queen.”
“Have they ever made life especially pleasant for me?”
“A fine point.” Ludivine squinted down the darkening road, looking up and down the rows of tall stone houses. “But, truly, Rielle…please don’t test anyone, not right now. Not with things so tense and fragile. Wait until my father’s temper cools before trying any grand defiant gestures.”
Rielle glanced sidelong at Ludivine, her nerves drawn suddenly even tighter. Ludivine couldn’t know about the plan she was crafting for the shadow trial, could she? “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Be a proper candidate. Obey the Archon.”
“And stay away from Audric?”
Ludivine turned, her face full of pity. “I don’t ever want to ask you to do that.”
“But I should,” Rielle whispered. Her voice felt so thick with sadness that it was difficult to speak. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”
“As I understand it,” Ludivine replied wryly, “kissing involves not just one person, but two. If there is blame to be placed, it isn’t only for you to bear.”
Rielle followed Ludivine down a thin garden path. A stone archway choked with flowering vines marked the entrance to a tidy square courtyard. Beyond the courtyard stood a wide black door with a brass knob. A tarnished silver plate nailed into the stone above showed crude etchings of a mortar and pestle and a cluster of bundled leaves. Ludivine stopped beneath the archway.
“My darling,” she murmured, her gaze soft on Rielle’s face, “please don’t let your heart grieve. Do you completely wring out my nerves? Yes, every day. But I love you as much as I ever have. And we will find a way to work this out. I will not see you live your life with a broken heart on my account.”
Rielle pulled her into an embrace so fierce it knocked back both of their hoods. “Is it possible,” she mumbled, “that you’ve taken me to this strange, dark house in the middle of the city to do away with me?”
Ludivine laughed. “After all those nice things I just said, you have to ruin the moment.”
“Perhaps you said all those nice things to get my guard down.”
“A fine plan, but alas, this is not as exciting as all that, I’m afraid. I’ve brought you to Audric’s healer.” Ludivine ducked out from under the archway and crossed the courtyard. “Audric much prefers him to his father’s healers up at Baingarde. He’s a good man. Discreet, no-nonsense. And, for all our sakes, I’d like to know that, going forward, your body is protected. Just in case.”
Rielle stopped midstride. “You brought me here so I could buy a contraceptive tonic.”
“Did you think to buy one for yourself?”
“I…” Rielle flushed once more. “I didn’t. I suppose I was still rather caught up in all the…” She gestured helplessly.
“The kissing?” Grinning, Ludivine knocked on the door. “Understandable. That’s what friends are for: to do the thinking for you when your own mind’s gone fogged.”
The door opened, revealing a ruddy-faced older man of middling height and weight, with shaggy brown hair, a slight beard, and piercing blue eyes. He held up a candle, squinting.
“Ah, Lady Sauvillier. Good. And…” He looked to Rielle. His eyebrows raised slightly. “And the honored candidate herself. What a night for me. My name is Garver Randell. Garver is acceptable. Follow me.”
Rielle glanced at Ludivine, who hid her smile behind her hand. No-nonsense indeed.
He ushered them inside, through a small entryway and into a quiet room lined with shelves of vials, jars, and labeled boxes. Through a door in the far wall, Rielle saw a softly lit staircase and another, smaller room. The sounds of someone sweeping and a child’s cheerful humming drifted out to meet them.
“My son’s around here somewhere. He’ll fetch it for you.” Garver found a seat by the crackling fire. “If I have to search through these shelves one more time today, my eyes are bound to pop out of their sockets.”
“Here, Father!” A small boy hurried out the lit doorway into the main room, a broom clutched in one hand. “What do you need?”
“A packet of contraceptive powder for Lady Rielle.” He glanced back at her. “I’ll give you a month’s worth. You’ll have to come back for more.”
Rielle saw the boy’s eyes widen at the mention of her name.
“I hope, Garver, that I can count on both you and your son to be discreet in these matters,” she said.
“Do you think I’d be in business, Lady Rielle,” Garver replied mildly, “if I were in the habit of walking around Âme de la Terre spreading news of what medicines people take?”
“No,” Rielle said, with some difficulty, “I suppose not.”
Garver’s little son had already found the packet in question, packaged it in a small, plain box, and brought it to Rielle.
“Here, my lady.” He held up the box, his cheeks bright red. “That’ll be five coppers—”
“I’ll waive the cost this time,” Garver called from the fire. “You did well at the metal trial, Lady Rielle. It’s the least I can do.”
“We were there,” the boy blurted out, seeming ready to burst. His eyes shone. “At the end, with all those swords… My lady, we were screaming for you. Did you hear us shout your name?”