The King's Eye

Chapter 33

Jacques

One by one they entered the room, half of them liars like me. Les Oreilles had once been impenetrable. The loyalty to the king had not been questioned, honesty was a given, our morals were tied to divine right. It was said that the Sun King had been so particular about who became his eyes among the halls of Versailles that he often planted traps to catch any vermin that tried to lurk among the ranks. Unfortunately in the two years I had been in the palace, his great grandson had trusted too much and was paranoid too little.

I had become the trap that laid in wait.

My fingers tapped against the wooden table, drumming to a tune that had haunted me since childhood. The words long escaped my mind, but the soft hum of them embraced me warmly. Sophie was that lullaby for me. Her presence a feeling of peace and normalcy I did not deserve, but if I were to pray for anything it would be for her to forgive me. Selfishly I had wed her, fearing once she knew everything that she would run away.

It hadn't been a lie, though. I would do anything to protect her.

Elodie sat across from me, her eyes barely looking at me as she positioned herself. It was the lack of presence at my side that stilled my heart, though. My brows narrowed.

Her pale eyes looked at me with confusion. "What is wrong?"

"It's probably nothing," I said, shifting my gaze to the doorway. Where was my wife?

A steward I didn't recognize entered the door, his shrill voice making him sound more like a woman than the man that stood before me.

"Do not announce us," his majesty growled, brushing past the confused man.

Her majesty glided past them, a broad smile painted onto her face. "Bonjour," she chimed. With a slight bow of her head, she took hold of her dress and piled the skirts she wore onto a chair at the head of the table. "I hope everyone is feeling higher spirits today."

"I would like to resume discussions about the declaration." His majesty's voice seemed regretful as he said, "You may have been right, Jacques."

I felt myself scoff, but still couldn't focus. Movement at the door, made me flinch. Sophie's feet were rocky under her as she brushed past the steward, whose face had paled.

Stumbling through the threshold, she tripped onto the floor. I couldn't move fast enough, the moments blurring as I ran to her. "Sophie." My voice was distant like I was underwater:

"My tardiness is inexcusable, your majesty." Her voice was quiet, a slurred jumble that was barely comprehensive.

It was when her ocean blues that were now reddened and surrounded by seas of purples and blacks looked at me that everything else stopped. "Who did this to you?"

She didn't say anything, but flinched at my touch. Reeling back as if I would harm her. Bruises in the shapes of gripping hands formed on her forearms.

"Who the hell did this?" I hadn't realized it, but I was shouting. The room suddenly quiet around us. Blood crusting her nostrils and mouth sent me off. "Sophie, I swear—"

"Francis," she croaked. "It was Francis."

That was when everything turned red. Storming past the steward, his majesty yelled after me. "Jacques, where are you going?"

I didn't look back as I unsheathed my dagger. "To kill the Duke of Guyenne."