Ludivine reached for Rielle, but Rielle flinched away, and Ludivine withdrew at once.
“Corien, however, desires revenge above all else,” Ludivine said quietly, “and it isn’t fair that you should suffer for it. I will do what I can to stop him because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Really?” Rielle raised an eyebrow, determined to remain unmoved at the sight of Ludivine’s tear-filled eyes. “How noble of you.”
Ludivine’s expression crumpled. “My dear, I’m sorry I’m not a stronger ally. I know it is difficult for you. I feel it every time he speaks to you.”
“Corien—the angel from the attack?” Audric looked first to Ludivine, and then to Rielle. “What does she mean, Rielle? He speaks to you?”
Rielle’s panic rose swiftly. He will be furious when he finds out.
No, he won’t, came Ludivine’s firm reply. He loves you.
But for how long?
Forever. He will love you forever.
“Months ago,” Rielle began, her voice unsteady, “on the day of the Chase, I heard a voice in my mind.”
Don’t tell him everything, Ludivine suggested. Spare him the worst of it.
The worst of it: That dark vastness, the throne made of bones. Corien’s name on her lips as she awoke lonely in her bed, and the ghost of his hands on her skin.
Rielle swallowed, shame burning tears from her eyes. “He visits me in dreams—and sometimes when I’m awake. He talked to me during the trials. He tells me…”
Go on, Ludivine urged gently.
Rielle touched her temples, swallowing hard.
Audric knelt before her. “What does he tell you? How can I help?”
She met Audric’s steady dark eyes through a haze of tears. “He wants me,” she whispered. “I don’t know what for. He wants me to go to him. He says he won’t always be so patient. He tried to make me leave with him, the day of the fire trial. I wouldn’t. I burned him, but…I can’t say if that will stop him.”
“It won’t,” Ludivine said, “but he won’t recover from that for some time.”
Rielle threw her a dark look. “So you say.”
Ludivine looked as though she’d been slapped. “You don’t trust me anymore.”
“I should think that much would be obvious by now. And anyway, can you blame me for that?”
“I understand. I’ll have to earn back your trust.” Ludivine nodded, pressed her lips tightly together. “I can do that. I will do that.”
“My God.” Audric’s worried expression tore Rielle’s heart in two. “Rielle…why didn’t you ever say anything about any of this?”
“I was frightened. I didn’t know what you’d think of me.”
He cradled her face in his hands, catching her tears on his thumbs. “I could have helped you.”
“I hate him,” she whispered, and it was true. But it was not the whole truth, and she despised herself for it. “And I don’t know how to be rid of him.”
“We will find a way,” Ludivine said, coming to sit beside her.
“Have you been in her mind as well?” Audric asked sharply. “Like him?”
Ludivine met his eyes. “Yes. For three years now, though I have been near her for much longer.”
“And does Corien know about you? That you’re here, in Ludivine’s body, protecting Rielle from him?”
Ludivine nodded. “He does.”
“And I would imagine,” Audric observed, “that he isn’t too happy about you working against him?”
“He considers me a traitor to my kind.” Ludivine squared her jaw. “A title I am happy to bear if it keeps Rielle safe.”
Audric glanced at Rielle. “You said you’ve been looking after her for years. And then you mentioned your…Ludivine’s fever. You mentioned…” He looked slightly ill. “Taking her place.”
“Ah. Yes.” Ludivine stood. “When we were locked away in the Deep, we lost our bodies and existed only as our thoughts.” She said it matter-of-factly, as though being stripped of one’s body were a small thing. “Once Corien and I escaped that place, we were able to take possession of human bodies that had been recently…vacated.”
Rielle’s stomach churned. She stepped away from Ludivine, trying to keep her mind as numb and clear as possible. If she thought too closely about Ludivine—her Ludivine—long dead, and her body now possessed by this other Ludivine, this creature, she felt dizzy and frantic, like she was hurtling toward a cliff’s edge.
“Sweet saints,” Audric whispered. “You mean you possessed these bodies and now live inside them, controlling them.”
Ludivine nodded. “Essentially.”
“Can you do this…forever?”
“Once I took hold of this body, it stopped growing, and it will remain like this as long as I am inside it.”
“Even if you fall to your death,” Audric whispered, a sad smile on his face.
“Even if I fall to my death.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say to you right now. I can’t decide which I feel more deeply—anger or fear or, quite frankly, fascination.” He glared up at her. “You shouldn’t have lied to us for so long. We deserved better than that.”
Ludivine nodded. “I know. You’re right. I was only…” She hesitated, with a sad smile. “I was afraid of losing you.”
“We were not yours to have,” Audric replied sharply.
Ludivine let out a soft sob. She reached for their hands, and when they did not pull away, the look of relief on her face was so profound that Rielle had to avert her eyes.
“Please know,” Ludivine said, “that the things we have shared, these last few years, are real and precious to me. I’ve lived at your sides since you were small, I’ve watched you grow, and I grieved deeply when Ludivine died. It was of great comfort to me that I could bring her back to you, even in a small way. And, my darlings,” she whispered, “please do not doubt that I love you. In my long lifetime, I have never loved anything or anyone as I do the two of you.”
“I cannot say the same to you.” Audric laughed harshly. “I don’t even know what to call you. Do you have an angelic name?”
“Ludivine. I beg you to call me Ludivine. My angelic name is no longer relevant—and not a word I care for. I know I don’t deserve to ask that of you, but it is who I am, she is who I have become—”
“Please.” Audric cut her off. “No more of that, not right now. I need… I have to think about this.”
She nodded, smiled bravely. “Of course. I understand.”
Please don’t shut me out, Ludivine thought to Rielle. The world depends on it, but more than that, I cannot bear—
Don’t be afraid. Rielle tried to send her a feeling of love, faint as it was—and even though she wasn’t sure Ludivine deserved it. But she could no longer bear the weight of Ludivine’s quiet despair without offering her a slight ray of hope. You will not lose us as easily as that.
“I should tell you,” Ludivine added quietly, “that though I am not much more than a child in your terms, and not as powerful as Corien, I am a good deal stronger than most of our kind. The majority cannot take hold of a human body like this, at least not with such…effectiveness.”
For that, she thought to Rielle, they would need help.
Rielle stared at her, the realization seeping into her slowly and leaving room for little else. They will need…me.
? ? ?
One week later, Rielle stood before the floor-length mirror in her rooms, adjusting the heavy black folds of her gown.
Outside, a star-scattered lavender sky faded to a cloudless night. Atheria stood solemnly on the terrace, looking down at the city. Soon the temple bells would ring, and the procession of King Bastien’s body up the streets of me de la Terre would begin.
Ludivine emerged from the bathing rooms, golden hair in a crown of braids around her head. Her own mourning gown, like Rielle’s, fastened high at the throat.
“Are you ready?” Ludivine asked, tugging on her gloves.