Chapter 41
Yvette
Yvette stood shivering in Victor’s shadow.
He’d insisted they be a part of the small gathering of nobles that had accompanied Lord Caspian into the village for the festival.
She didn’t understand why. As much as he was trying to hide it, she could see he was clearly miserable.
He’d always hated anything he felt was common, feared it even, as if it would infect him with its inferiority.
But he loves me anyway, a small and sparing voice in her head reassured her.
He’s never looked at me like that, and there had hardly been a more common figure than herself when he had found her.
Even though she was now dressed the lady, that part of her which had sheltered in gutters and begged for bread still existed.
Normally it huddled in a dark corner of her mind, but now it perked up, surveying the Holly Festival.
The children look happy here. No one is starving, it thought.
It marveled at the smell of sweet loaves in the air and the boughs of holly that decorated the town square.
Perhaps if we had lived here, it would have been different.
Yvette hardened herself against the thought.
She still didn’t understand how that pitiful memory of herself was such a hopeful creature.
Of course nothing would have been different, Yvette scolded.
We would have been the same. It retreated to its dark corner as Yvette straightened, bringing herself back to the present.
Even as she tried to turn her thoughts away, she could still feel its weeping.
“Straighten up, sister,” Victor said.
Priscilla was standing at his side, dressed in a gown of icy blue with white fur trims. Pink rouge had been set on her cheeks to give them a winter kissed look. Her blonde hair was worked into a tight braided bun. What lovely bait.
In fact, as Yvette followed Victor’s gaze, Lord Caspian was approaching them. Keira had not been seen since last night, though the rumor was that she was still in the castle. Yet she was not here now, and that was opening enough.
“Lord Redfield,” Lord Caspian said. “Good of you to make it.”
“Of course, it is a pleasure to see such a festive spirit,” Victor said smoothly. “My sister was just telling me how much she would like to explore the town further.”
Lord Caspian turned to her. Yvette caught the slightest glimmer of hesitation in his eyes.
“I would be most- most honored if you would introduce me t-t-to your people, Lord Caspian,” Priscilla said with a small curtsy.
She watched him with her wide doe eyes, a picture of innocence. Yet, Yvette saw only a masterful move from a savvy player. She wondered sometimes how Victor didn’t see how fluent his sister was in his own games.
“Of course,” Lord Caspian relented, offering her an arm.
Yvette’s eyes followed them as they went off together. He singled out points of interest, and Priscilla looked about in wonderment, leaning into his arm to ask questions.
“You’ve been awfully quiet, pet,” Victor said. Though the remark was light, casual. She knew it was anything but. His subtle tells gave him away.
“What would you have me say?”
He turned to her, his back to the comers and goers on the street. “I understand that you disagreed with my methods last night, but this cursed silence cannot continue.”
“You don’t want to listen to me speak, yet you do not wish me to be silent? Do you see my conflict?”
Victor’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get clever now, darling,” he hissed. “You know I will do anything for this family. It is my burden and you cannot understand the weight of it.”
She had observed his efforts in the past and applauded them even. But this? Arranging the torment of an innocent woman, and for what purpose? She could not see the right in it.
He let out an agitated breath. “I will not have you stand in judgment of my actions. We both remember where I found you.”
The blood drained from Yvette’s face even as Victor turned from her. He’d said his piece. Made his point.
Try as she might to choke it down, the memory took hold of her, pulling her back to the mud covered streets of six years before. It had been winter then too. A harsher, crueler wind blew, though maybe it had only felt so through her thin linen dress.
In those days, her magic had been a wilder thing.
It had frightened her. She had been alone because it frightened everyone else too.
Though her magics had begun as matters of illusion, they grew into something wicked.
When she asked something of another, issued a command or request, they listened.
She had promised not to use her cursed tongue.
It was wrong to rob people of their will, and once the spell ran its course, they always knew what she’d done.
Of course, she’d broken her promise many times. She had used her magic to elicit the kindnesses she required in order to survive. Even that was enough for her to be run out of one town after another.
When she met Victor, it had been happening again.
A gang of boys was throwing stones at her, hitting her with sticks, egged on by others watching from their doorsteps.
She was running blindly through the muddy streets, just trying to escape, when she was nearly trampled by a horse.
She’d looked up to see Victor there in his blood red cape, his guards around him, and Yvette had made a choice, a horridly selfish one.
“Please help me, sir,” she had said, knowing exactly what she was doing.
“Help the girl up at once,” Victor had said to his men.
Once she was seated on the saddle in front of him, she marveled at the beauty of his face.
His fine clothes and golden hair had seemed like a dream, such a harsh contrast to her bruised skin and muddy dress.
He truly was her knight in shining armor.
Then she’d done the most selfish thing imaginable.
“Never let me go,” she’d whispered. In that moment, Yvette knew she was working a deeper magic than she had ever felt before.
It was a wish from deep inside her heart that she was sowing within him as well.
Yvette had watched his pupils widen as her words took root deep within him. “Never,” he’d murmured back.
From then on, it had been life in the castle, enjoying every comfort.
She had also experienced new hardships. The cruelty of Victor’s father hung over her until his death.
She’d seen Victor’s demons, and she would endure them, as penance for what she had done.
She supposed he imagined that this memory held shame for her because of how wretchedly poor she had been.
But it was guilt, not shame, that haunted her.
She had tied his heart to her own to feed her desperation, because more than anything, she had needed someone to love her. To never let her go.
She’d refused to use that power since. Victor had encouraged her to discover the bounds of her magic, and she had happily explored it.
Though he knew that she possessed some influence over the mind, she’d never let him know the extent of it.
It was a monstrous gift that he would never understand the toll of.
He lusted after power too much as it was. She would not let it destroy him.
Yvette looked on at him with a softness in her eyes. Suddenly she could not stand for him to be upset with her. For all his faults, she loved him. She needed him to love her. Her fingers brushed the soft velvet of his cloak.
He turned to her, his brow lifted in surprise. His face was so handsome it stopped her heart. A bizarre and sudden desire came over her to bury herself in his arms. A need so strong that a tear came to her eye.
“Oh, pet.” Victor stroked the tear from her cheek.
“Have I forgotten again what a gentle creature you are?” His eyes searched her, scouring her from the inside out with their tenderness.
“I can get lost in my games, can’t I?” His fingers traced her arm until they reached to smooth against her jaw.
He sighed. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
Yvette nodded into his hand.
“Good.” He angled her chin down and kissed her forehead. “I need you with me, darling.”
He released her, attention turning from her as Lord Caspian returned, Priscilla on his arm. She was speaking softly, his ear angled toward her, though she fell quiet by the time they approached.
“Did you have a pleasant time?” Victor asked.
“Oh yes, the- the village is ab-absolutely charming. Lord Caspian indulged so many of my questions. I am afraid I-I may have been a handful.”
“Of course not, my lady.” Lord Caspian bowed.
“It is only that if-if I am to one day be the lllady of-” she raised her gloved hand to her lips and blushed. Such artful manipulation. So sweet and demure. “I only mean that your people are a treasure, and it is a pl-pleasure to know them.”
Clearly she had targeted Caspian’s love for his people.
If she loved them too, could she get him to show similar affection for her?
It was a clever gambit. It would have almost certainly worked before Keira’s arrival.
Now though, Yvette watched as he retreated in his mind. She was playing too obvious.
Lord Caspian cleared his throat. “Lord Redfield, I would like to speak with you about the… arrangement. Tomorrow perhaps?”
“Yes, of course.” Victor bowed slightly in agreement without missing a beat.
Yvette could see the ice in his gaze as Lord Caspian retreated.
“I-I-I did my best, b-brother,” Priscilla said as he left them, a hint of tears in her voice.
“Of course, sister,” Victor said, offering her a brief and bitter smile. “Allow me to handle the matter from here.” He turned to Yvette, catching her eye. “It seems I will be requiring your methods after all, darling. Will that be a problem?”
Uneasiness pooled in her stomach. She’d used her magic to help him time and again, but it had always been against despicable people who she felt no qualms stealing from or even seeking deserved justice. But Lord Caspian was a perfectly good person.
“No more games, I promise,” he whispered. “We’ll finish this and let it be done, hmm?”
Yvette nodded finally. Victor would get what he wanted with or without her. She just wanted this to be over. Perhaps she could at least finish this with a touch of mercy.