Page 51 of The Court of Venus

“No. I forbid it.”

“No?”

“No. She is the most dangerous person at this entire court.”

I snorted. “And what, pray tell, did she do to make you fear her so?”

“She provided evidence against Alice Seton, her own sister, and her father, too. That’s why she alone was pardoned. That’s why her entire family is dead.”

My breath hitched. I hadn’t known.

Roland batted a branch out of the way, his voice low. “The rumored motivations vary. Some say she was jealous of Alice’s status as the king’s mistress and believed the king would have her instead.” A wave of his hand. “I’m not so sure about that one. Others say she was convinced by a lover, or spite, or was driven insane. But I know Kitty Seton longs to be asked questions. People like her adore interrogation, Mouse. It’s the only time in their sorry lives the focus is on them. That’s why I think she betrayed her family—so she could elbow her way into the story. So she could be the one telling it.”

That’s when I understood. Kitty stared after him with such longing, and he knew her personality so intimately, because they had once been lovers. “Oh, Roland.”

We had come to a fountain in the center of the knot garden. He sighed. Dreading whatever he was about to say. “I was fourteen. The Setons were at the height of their influence, and I thought she was very pretty. I didn’t know her true nature. Do me a favor, won’t you, and forget? Don’t—Don’t remember me as I was then.”

Roland at fourteen. Me at ten. How could I ever forget? He’d just called me Mouse for the first time, and the gangly limbs of his boyhood had begun to fill out, the pimples on his cheeks fading, and all at once he was someone I couldn’t bear to look at.

“I’ve endured this tournament, this court—I endured that so I could find answers. She must have them.”

Instead of arguing further, he changed the subject. “Did you make any progress with Eleanor’s book?”

I told him how many hours I’d spent with it, with little to show. “We need a Mercury.”

“Hmm,” he said, “we always need a Mercury, don’t we? Oliver will have a price. There’s always a price for magic.”

“And what’s your price?”

He pondered this for a moment, then held up his ring. “Influence. Yours?”

“A home, I suppose.” I shrugged. “Safety.”

“Oh, Mouse, what a tragic answer. We should have named you Crab instead, for how much you love your shell.”

I ignored this. “What do you think Oliver’s price is? Can we pay it?”

A hand shook through his hair. He grew agitated the longer he thought through my question. “I’d say same as mine. Power. Assurance. He longs for a seat on the privy council. A place here at court. Let’s hope he’ll settle for something smaller from us. He’ll swear an oath soon enough, the way he’s competing in the tourney. I always underestimate Mercury.”

“He saved your life. Surely, it’s worth a council seat.”

“I heard talk it was not Oliver alone who did that.” His eyes found mine and held. “He saved your life. For that, I’ll give him whatever he wants.” He nodded toward the stained block, still resting in the lawn by the banquet tables. “I didn’t have any revelations before the end, you know. Just before the memory of us all racing to the tree, before I felt you in my mind, I saw my mother. She was—” He smoothed his hair back. “—petting me. Like this. The way she used to.”

I had never heard him speak of his life before court. “What was she like?”

He shrugged. “Beautiful. Vain.”

“Nothing at all like her son.”

“At least I’m not a wiseass.” He tutted, then glanced at the ring of courtiers still surrounding Oliver. “I’ll tell him we shall meet him in two nights’ time, at his inn.”

My heart sank. “No. It must be tomorrow.” I was unsure if I could trust him with this, my greatest weakness. I tipped forward, drew back again, then decided, at last, to press on. If I couldn’t trust him, then I had no one at all. “The night after is a new Moon.”

His brow knit. “So?”

“So, I’ll be worthless to you.”

I thought of all my past selves, shivering defenseless in the dark. We stood face forward and spoke in hushed tones now that we had returned to the lawn, pretending to watch the masque being performed. I could glean a heroic charge being led by Tom, but little else.