“Lady Cécile!” The little troll rolled in on his stool, a wide grin on his face that fell away when he saw me. “What is the matter, child?” Stacks of paper lifted off the only other chair in the room and settled on the ground. “Sit, sit!”
“So sad!” He rolled next to me and took my hand, patting it gently. “I am thinking it is because of the altercation between His Highness and the human boy, am I correct? Gossip – it travels fast in Trollus.”
I nodded miserably, my heart listening to Tristan’s emotions. Misery was gone now, and in its place was grim determination. I bit my lip and tried to keep my composure. Tristan was coming this way. It wouldn’t be long now.
“Young men in love, they are all fools. Trolls and humans, it makes no difference.”
“He almost killed him, Pierre.”
The little troll’s face looked grim. “I heard as much.” He sighed. “Not a fair fight – it never is between trolls and humans. Strength from another world.”
My ears perked up at that. Perhaps Pierre would not be so reluctant to divulge information about their history. “Is that where trolls come from? Another world?” I feigned ignorance to see what he would say.
He smiled and pressed a finger against my lips. “Some things are better left a mystery, non?”
The little glass balls representing the planets and moons rose up in the air and began to circle the glowing sun. I watched with fascination as they circled round and round, wondering to which one trolls might belong. Then they all fell away, until only the moon and the sun were left. They circled each other, both equally bright, one silver and one gold. Like Tristan and I.
“Pierre, if the curse were broken, do you think the trolls would go to war with the humans to take the Isle back?”
He looked away from me, his brow furrowed. “Yes,” he said. “With Thibault as king, I think freedom would mean much bloodshed for humanity.”
“But what about Tristan?”
“Tristan is not king yet.”
“But he will be, one day,” I persisted.
The little troll was quiet for a long time. “I do not know what he would do,” he finally said, the moon and sun settling into his hands. “I think that might very much depend on you, my lady.”
I closed my eyes. It was an answer, but not one that helped me at all. “Pierre?”
“Yes, my dearest lady?”
“If you had the chance, would you leave Trollus to go above?”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know he was smiling. “Oh yes, Cécile,” he said. “I would very much like to see the planets, the stars.” He sighed. “I would climb the highest mountain, build the greatest telescope that ever existed, and I would watch them until my light went out.”
A ghost of a smile drifted across my lips. “Thank you, Pierre.”
“What for, my lady?”
“For giving me the answer I needed.”
The door slammed open and I turned to look at Tristan. “You need to come with me, Cécile. Now.”
My time was up.
CHAPTER 31
CéCILE
“Hang back,” Tristan snapped at my guards as we left Pierre’s home. “I’ll not have you eavesdropping on my every word.”
They gave each other concerned looks, but the expression on Tristan’s face was enough to triple the distance at which they normally followed me.
“Where are we going?” I asked, although in my heart, I already knew. Tristan wanted me to leave. As much as he might love me, he would never trust me; and without trust, our love was doomed.
“River Road,” he muttered under his breath.
I wanted to argue with him, plead for him to let me stay. But what was the point? I couldn’t make him trust me. I had no way to prove that, despite having been brought to Trollus against my will, it would now be against my will to leave. Knowing my feelings was not the same as knowing my thoughts. “The guards won’t let me pass.”
“No. But they won’t stop Anaïs.”
I stared up at him, confused. “What?”
“You’ll see.”
Tristan led me through a series of alleyways, and then stopped at a door in the back of a building. At his knock, a man opened the door and bowed deeply. “My lord. My lady.” His chocolate-brown hair marked him as part human, but Tristan did not introduce us. The man gestured to the entrance of another room, but did not follow us in.
“About time. Do you think I have all day to waste sitting around waiting on you?” Anaïs reclined on a sofa, smirk firmly in place. I scowled at her and her grin grew even wider. “No need for that, Cécile. I am doing you a favor, after all.”
“No, you are not,” Tristan snapped. “You are doing me a favor and it is from me whom you will collect.”
She got to her feet and made her way to Tristan’s side. The parlor seemed too small to contain the three of us. Anaïs was too close, and the satisfaction on her face made me want to hit her. Not that that would go well.
“You don’t do anything that doesn’t benefit you in some way, Anaïs.” I felt too drained, too tired, to deal with her today. Even at my best, she was better. “This is no favor.”
“As you like.” Anaïs laughed. “Turn around, Tristan. I’m not your wife. Yet.” A wink accompanied this last bit, and the urge to strike out became almost unmanageable.
“Get on with it, Anaïs,” Tristan said darkly, but he turned around.
“Help me,” she said, turning her back to me. “We need to switch dresses. I’d never wear something like that.”
“It’s going to take more than a dress for anyone to mistake the two of us,” I replied. But I began undoing the gold buttons running down the back of her gown. Her skin felt soft and overheated beneath my fingers, the lace of her undergarments reminding me of the tattoo on Marc’s fingers, black against porcelain white.
When she was unbuttoned, I pulled off my own dress, needing no assistance to extract myself from its forgiving design. When she turned around I flushed, profoundly grateful that Tristan had his back turned. Fully clothed she was the most beautiful girl I had ever met. Half-naked, I was certain she was every man’s fantasy. Beside her, I felt like the troll. Shorter, plumper, with a smaller chest and a bigger behind.
We put on each other’s clothes, her dress so tight I could hardly breathe and mine hanging off her slender frame. Then she pulled off her shoes and as she settled onto her bare feet, I realized she wasn’t all that much taller than me after all. “You’re short for a troll.”
She raised one finger to her lips and then handed me the shoes. “No one needs to know that.”
I put them on, wobbling on the high platforms and wondering how I would get more than two steps without falling. In the meantime, Anaïs pulled a black wig out of her bag, along with a golden-framed mirror. “Hair is tricky,” she muttered.
It took a bit of doing to get all of my red hair tucked beneath the wig, and my ribs began to ache from my extra-tight corset. Sweat trickled down my back as I took one shallow breath after another. Anaïs held up the mirror and examined her face. “Now for the illusion,” she said, and her brow furrowed in concentration. I watched in amazement as her black hair turned red and her features shifted until the girl looking back at me was my mirror image.
“Now, for you.”
Warm magic washed over my face, but otherwise I could feel nothing. “Done,” she said, my face smirking in a way that betrayed the girl lurking underneath. I’d never make that face. She handed me the mirror and I held it up to my face. An unhappy looking Anaïs stared out at me, silver eyes and all.
“You shouldn’t frown like that,” she said. “You’ll get wrinkles.”