Royal Fools

XIX. Ladies of Coulway

Emory stared at Fairborne in stunned silence. For a moment, his thoughts froze, then with a blink, his mind lurched and scrutinized the unspoken statement in the room. Florence's grinning face was a ghost at the back of his mind, her hysterical laughter a pulsing presence.

He smiled coldly. "I know where you're going with this." He dug his finger into Craig Martel's portrait. "You said he was a Gavarian general."

"He was. He left Gavaria six years ago. The reasons are unknown, but we're still looking into it."

"Then I see no reason for what you're insinuating. You're telling me he spent six years planning for this moment? We never had a problem with Gavaria."

Blackwood spoke from where he sat. "Yes, but they also don't have problems with the French like we do."

"We understand that the Grand Princess lied to you when you first met," Eastwell said.

His eyes snapped at the lady. "Because I lied to her first, and she didn't like it."

"She came here without warning."

"What are you trying to say? That two women from Gavaria came here to lead a bloody assassination?"

"It doesn't have to take a man to bring down a king," Greene, another Royal Circus member, wryly said.

"I'm not talking about that," he snapped. "She presented the papers, and you all determined them to be accurate."

"They were. But it still does not negate the possibility this might be planned."

"Your Majesty," Eastwell said, her voice firm and calm, "We are not treating the princess as a criminal, but we cannot turn a blind eye and erase suspicion."

"She has to be questioned," Greene suggested.

"I disagree," another woman from Belcourt said. "It's best that we keep a close eye on her. The less she knows, the better."

Emory scoffed incredulously. "This is absurd," he told Blackwood.

But Blackwood was not on his side. "I agree with everyone. Coincidence or not, we can't ignore this."

He eyed everyone around the table, then he chuckled wryly. "You've already set up everything in Coulway."

"Yes. Only a select few are aware. Those tasked to guard her don't have a clue."

"Ellise Dior."

"Some Belles, too," said Eastwell. "They'll have access to venues the princess might go."

"You'll be spying on her," he gritted out. He could already picture Florence's face once she found out.

"Unless the princess is up to something, she will not notice a thing."

His jaw tightened. "I don't like this."

"You know this has to be done," Blackwood said. And everyone around the table knew that if he told them to stop, they would. But he couldn't because, as Blackwood said, it had to be done.

"If you are to marry her, we have to erase all doubts," Fairborne said.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She can't even touch a spider," he murmured.

"Everyone thinks the same about the Belles," Eastwell said.

She was right. Belcourt's Belles were women who served as escorts to the rich and powerful men of Sutherland. For many years, they were trained by Belcourt to please and seduce men. The perfect spies.

He opened his eyes and ground his teeth. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Eastwell nodded. "We're afraid so."