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I sat back in my chair. A demon-blooded witch born from Gorrath’s seed. No wonder standing near her felt ruinous. Gorrath wasn’t just any demon. He was one I knew well.

If she was Gorrath’s descendant, she was temptation made flesh.

I was almost relieved to have a reason for desiring her that couldn’t just be blamed on years of celibacy, but it didn’t make the temptation any less real.

This letter described many disturbing happenings, and my heart ached for my brother and Cora, but tucked away inside his letter was something I couldn’t ignore.

“What news from Roselyn?” Severin prompted.

My attention snapped back to my nephew. I’d been so lost in thought, I’d almost forgotten he was there. I'd trusted him to run my duchy for decades. He was a good man. But this wasn’t my secret to tell.

I folded Bastien’s letter and tucked it inside my breast pocket. Then I searched the map for another family. A smaller coven closer to Château Rose. Some obscure family no one would’ve heard of this far south. North of Devonelle, in the dense forests surrounding the mountains, I found a name. A perfect name.

“Tell the council… tell them she comes from Bastien’s court, and that her name is Miss Cora Ravenwood. She comes highly recommended by the Duke himself, and I have chosen to employ her. That, along with her appearance on Maris’s night, should still their tongues.”

Severin considered this, then nodded. “I believe we can sell this to the court and council, but you will need to write to Uncle Bastien to cover this story.”

“There’s no need.”

His lips pulled into a frown. I could tell that he didn’t like being left out of my full confidence, but I had no other choice.

“Severin, the truth of this must stay between us.”

“You have my solemn vow, Your Grace.”

I crumpled up the letter to Marius and stood, gladdened that we were on the same page, but Severin didn’t move. He wore a look that told me he had more to say.

“When I was out at the harbormaster’s office, inquiring about recent cargo shipments, a ship requested a royal mooring.”

A royal mooring? Those were reserved for my brothers. “Who is it?”

“The ship is flying the pale blue and gold flags of Rochefort.”

Chapter 19

Débarquement

CORA

I’d barely had a moment of peace before there was a knock at the door.

“Miss Ravenwood, we’re here to dress you for the arrival of the Duke of Rochefort! Are you decent?”

Who was she talking to? Surely not me.

“Miss Ravenwood!”

Then I realized Ravenwood must be the false name Yves had chosen. An insult if I ever heard one. Had I known what name he intended to give me, I would’ve smacked him.

Cora Ravenwood, indeed.

I barely had a second to hide my bodice inside a decorative vase on the fireplace mantle before a line of maids burst in.

I hugged my arms around my middle, watching them as they stared at me.

The eldest woman, who had gray hair coiled into a bun and a solemn look, spoke first. “I am Mrs. Crowe, and I will be in charge of ensuring you are presentable.”

She gestured to her maids, who descended upon me like a pack of hungry wolves. One stripped me naked. Another pushed me into a scalding hot bath. Once I was scoured, they began searching a pile of gowns for one that fit.