Page 7 of Summer of Sacrifice
None of them stood as he and Agatha entered. He assumed it was because his wife hated such things and had ordered them not to. In kind, Grimm addressed no one as he took the seat next to the head of the table—next to his queen’s seat. Finally, he looked only at the one he’d truly come to speak to. “Anne.”
“Your Highness,” she said softly, bowing her head.
“Grimm,” he corrected.
“Grimm.”
He slid a glance over to von Fuchs and tossed his chin in that direction, looking back at Anne with his brows knit together. “What do you see when you look at him?”
Anne stilled, eyes shining bright, her mind likely whirling. He had no desire to make her relive painful memories, but he had to know the truth of having this man around.
Finally, she answered, her tone firm and unwavering. “I see a survivor of unspeakable abuse and manipulation.”
Von Fuchs looked down at his clasped hands on the table, but not before Grimm caught the bob of his throat as he swallowed.
He fought the urge to grind his molars together. Unable to force his jaw to unclench any further, he spoke through gritted teeth. “And when you look in the mirror, Anne, what do you see?”
The young woman blinked away tears. “The same thing.” Her voice cracked.
Conflicting emotions swirled within him until he couldn’t decipher what they were or whether they were his or Agatha’s. “And do you believe this man should sit on our council?”
“Yes,” Anne said without a hint of hesitation. “I do.”
The muscles in Grimm’s jaw feathered, and he strode toward Anne, leaning in close over the table’s edge. “Are you certain?” Words too low for anyone else to hear. A chance to reconsider. A chance to take it back.
“I am, Grimm.”
Inhaling slowly, he gathered himself. “If you are ever unsure, for even a fraction of a breath, you let me know and I will gut him like a fucking fish.”
Anne smiled, almost laughing through the small tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I am very certain of who that man is and that the one who hurt me is not him.”
Grimm sighed heavily and stalked over to Emile, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him partially out of his seat.
“Easy, reaper,” he heard Laurent caution from across the table.
But he did not loosen his grip. Fear shone in the magus’ eyes, but there was also a sense of bravery and something akin to…chivalry. Grimm pushed his guessing away and growled, “If you so much as think about making a wrong move, I will not hesitate to rip your soul back out, and I will not return it this time, regardless of who is pleading on your behalf. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Grimm shoved him back down so hard the chair groaned. “Good.” He reached out and smoothed the lapel of Emile’s morning coat roughly. “Nice coat, by the way.”
Without waiting for a response from the man, he strode to his place by Agatha’s side and took a seat, looking up at her expectantly where she stood.
That’s it? she snapped down the bond. I’m on my own now?
He gave her a lazy grin. I’m just a lowly prince, my queen.
Stop it.
But she couldn’t hide from him at all anymore. He felt every bit of the swell of her heart at his pride in her, as well as her preparedness. Of course, she’d insisted on running everything by him prior to their meeting, but he’d done his best not to argue and only pushed her to do what she felt was best. Grimm would intervene only when it came to their own tasks, meant only for the two of them. Judging by her suspicion in their bond and on her face, she was already expecting a doozy of an explosion from him in that regard. And he would not disappoint.
Patience, little witch.
Agatha frowned at him, turning back to their gathered council. “I see no reason to prolong the inevitable. We all have separate duties now and a clan of people which we lead for all intents and purposes. It’s evident that a dark day is coming in more ways than one. Chresedia, or Athania as she was originally known, wants to return to her realm, but she can only do so on the Deux Siècles Eclipse.”
Dulci opened her mouth, but Agatha held up a hand. “I know you all have many questions, but we don’t know all the answers yet. That is what Grimm and I plan to figure out while you all prepare for the eclipse. Sorscha, according to the astrological map in Araignée, how long do we have?”
Sister Spring stood and handed Aggie a messy bundle of notes written in small, tight handwriting, then slid a similar stack of notes across the table to Seleste. “Asa has translated the map as best he can. He doesn’t know the location Chresedia will choose, but the timing appears to be the end of Summer. The Autumnal Equinox.”