Luck of the Wolf (28 page)

“Whatever he may have done in the past,” she said, “he has more than atoned for it. And as for myself…” She looked beyond the Carantians, south and west toward the wilderness. “I may be Alese's sister, but I am nothing like her. It was all make-believe.” She glanced at Cort, tears in her eyes. “Almost all of it.”

Cort held his arms rigidly at his sides, knowing that if he let go of his self-control even for a moment he would take her in his embrace and carry her away, back to Bayou Gris, where she would never have to pretend again, never face the danger of fighting for a throne she didn't want. He was still ready to do it. If she would have him. One word…

“Your Highness,” von Losontz said, his voice shaking, “I thank you for your honesty. I understand why you were driven to act as you did. I regret the circumstances that robbed you of your rightful privileges. But it changes nothing. You are still our princess by blood and nature.”

Aria seemed not to hear. She met Cort's gaze, and he waited, his heart in his throat.

“Monsieur Renier,” she said, “may I speak with you?”

She walked away, and Cort followed. They were still within earshot of the
loups-garous,
but Aria showed no signs of concern that the others might overhear.

“How did you know where I—”

“Why did you come after me?” Cort asked, speaking over her words.

They stared at each other. Aria almost smiled.

“You know why I came,” she said.

Always honesty from her, even when her pride and heart and future were at stake.

“How did you know di Reinardus had found me?” she asked.

He offered a crooked smile of his own. “Because I was coming back for you,” he said.

She took a step toward him. “Why?”

“You know why.”

The rest of the world went away. Aria held out her hands, and he took them.

“Who are these people with you?” she asked.

“My kin. My father. My family.”

“And you were coming to take me to them?”

“To my home. To the place I never should have left. The only place I belong.”

“It is a strange world, your home.”

“You could learn to love it.”

“Is that what you want, Cort?”

“If you can forgive me.”

“Can you doubt it?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but a firm hand on his arm stopped him.

“Monsieur,”
von Losontz said softly. “You do not know what you do.”

Von Mir joined them, as grave and grim as his compatriot. “If we may speak to you alone…”

“Whatever you wish to say to Cort may be said in my presence,” Aria said, her smile gone.

“Very well, Your Highness.” The elder Carantian faced Cort again. “You have no stake in our country. You have no knowledge of it, or what the return of the true heir will mean to us. Before the deposition of our
rightful king and queen, Carantia was on the path to becoming a modern country, free of superstition and feudal cruelty. Before König Wilhelm came to the throne, the
wehrwölfe
nobles were a law unto themselves, and humans like Josef were treated as little better than slaves. Wilhelm changed that.”

“He gave the hope of equality to the humans of Carantia,” von Mir said. “He introduced the sciences and medicine to cure human illnesses that could not be helped by the Change. He established just laws, standing firm against the aristocrats who would oppose them.”

“Until di Reinardus fomented rebellion,” von Losontz said. “He succeeded in murdering our king and queen. And when he was exiled, his cousin took the throne by default…a weak and unstable ruler who let the nobles have their way and returned the country to the dark, benighted place it had been before.”

“But the people and some of the nobles will rally behind a true heir,” von Mir said. “Carantia can be what it was meant to be. But only if the princess returns with us.” He raised clasped hands. “I beg you to think of all those who will suffer if Her Highness leaves with you.”

“It is not my choice,” Cort said. But his throat ached and his stomach clenched with the knowledge that Aria, too, had heard every word the Carantians had spoken.

“She will be loved,” von Losontz said. Tears leaked from the old man's eyes. “Fifty thousand people, humans and
wehrwölfe
alike, wait to adore her. To be free again. Give her back to us.”

Slowly Cort looked at Aria. Her eyes, too, were wet. She was too good, too generous, not to be moved by the Carantians' plea.

And it was tearing her apart.

“Tell me,” Cort said thickly. “What was your bargain with the Reniers regarding Alese?”

Von Losontz cleared his throat. “That Henri be permitted to accompany the princess to Carantia and pay court to her.”

“Marry her?”

“Become her consort, if she would have him.”

Aria made a choked sound. “
I
would never have married him,” she said.

“That would never be asked of you,” von Mir said. “Only think of what great good you can do for so many….”

Aria's eyes were full of anguish. She looked at Cort and then away. He knew that if he asked her, she would come with him. She would let him make the decision for her. And she would live with the guilt for the rest of her life.

He had told her that the bayou was the only place he belonged. And he had meant it. To go out into the world again would mean returning to his failure. Taking up the mask that had made a mockery of his life, and betrayed Aria time and again.

He could tell himself that he could let Aria go. He might eventually learn to live without her. And Aria would do her duty. She wouldn't ask him to come with her, knowing he had chosen his path. She would learn to become Queen Aria di Reinardus, because she could do anything and be anyone she chose.

But she would be alone. No matter what the Carantians said, she would always be alone.

Silently, he held out his hand to Aria. She took it. They stood for an endless moment without speaking, pinned beneath the curious and anxious stares of
loups-garous
from two worlds that could never meet.

“I never stopped wanting you to marry me,” Cort said at last.

“Nor I you.” She tried to smile. It was a brave effort. “I didn't want to let you go.”

He cradled her hands in his. “But you will, for their sakes.”

“They…they need me,” she whispered. “I may be the only one who can make things right in Carantia.”

“I know.”

She pulled her hands away. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for taking care of me. For…” She stepped out of his reach. “I'll never forget.”

“How can you forget,” Cort said, “when I will be there to remind you?”

Her body stiffened. “I don't— Cort, I can't—”

“I have no ambition to become the consort of a queen,” he said with a wry smile. “I'm no prince. I'm not even a gentleman. But I can stay by your side. I can be whatever you want me to be, even if we never—”

“You would do that for me?” She glanced at Cort's father, at the other bayou Reniers who listened so intently. “But your home, your family…”

“They will understand. I turned my back on them once, but they know I'll never leave them again. Not here.” He touched his chest. “My father would think I was mad to let you go. If you'll have me.”

Her face lit up brighter than the rising sun. “I will. But only under one condition.” Chin high, she marched back to the anxious Carantians. “You will have your princess,” she said, “if she may marry whom she chooses.”

Von Losontz had no need to ask what she meant. He shifted uneasily and glanced at Cort. “It is…most unusual….”

“You would have let Henri marry the Queen,” she
said, all but bristling with wolfish challenge. “Cort is a thousand times the man Henri is. Henri or any one of those fine New Orleans Reniers.”

The old man's face flushed. “But Your Highness…”

“You want Carantia to change, become what you call a modern country,” she said. “I don't know anything about that. But if you want people to be equal, you can start with us.”

The battle was brief, and in the end the Carantians recognized their defeat. “He cannot be king,” von Losontz said gruffly. “At best, he will be your consort.”

“I've no objection,” Cort said, coming to stand beside Aria. “As long as I have all husbandly privileges.”

Like the spirited girl she had been when he'd first brought her home, Aria flung herself into his arms and kissed him soundly. “I can't wait,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” he said. “I always have.”

The physical consequences of their embrace might have proved embarrassing had there not been a very timely interruption. A second carriage bearing the Renier crest arrived, coming to a stop behind the others. Henri Renier climbed out, his gaze taking in the scene with astonishment and chagrin. He stared at Aria.

“Your Highness?” he said. “Thank God you are safe! I followed you when you left Belle Lune, but the carriage was mired in the…” He noticed Cort. “You? What are you—”

“Monsieur,”
Aria said with a little lilt of triumph, “may I present my fiancé, Cortland Beauregard Renier?”

Henri gaped. Alphonse approached Cort and Aria, trailing Cort's curious cousins.

“My father,” Cort said hastily. “Alphonse Renier.”

The old man bowed to Aria with courtly grace. “My son does not deserve a lady of such great courage, sense and beauty,” he said.

Aria blushed, offering her hand. “I am greatly honored, Monsieur Renier.”

Alphonse grinned and kissed her fingers. “I believe you may be the only one on this earth who can keep him honest,” he said with a sly glance at Cort.

“I shall do my best, sir.”

He squeezed her hand. “Perhaps you can spare a little time before you return to your home,
mademoiselle.
I would like you to meet the rest of Beau's kin.”

“Beau,” she said, giving Cort a sly glance of her own. “It suits you,
mon amour
.”

Cort winced. “I've become rather used to Cort,” he said. He swallowed. “Papa, will you give us your blessing?”

Alphonse held out his other hand. Cort took it and knelt. Aria knelt beside him.

“My blessing on these young folk,” Alphonse said, as the other villagers bowed their heads. “May God watch over them and keep them in the palm of his hand.”

Taking Aria's hand, Cort rose. “
Merci,
Papa,” he said. “I only wish that Maman—”

“Do not think she will not see you,” Alphonse said. He winked at Aria. “Is there any reason you cannot be married at Bayou Gris,
ma fille?
”

Von Losontz coughed loudly. “Your Highness!”

“None at all,” Aria said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “May I call you Papa, too? I never knew my own father.”

“Ma chérie,”
he said, “you make this old man very happy.”

“What is going on?” Henri demanded as he burst into their little circle of happiness. “What have you done, Aria?”

“I will tell you,” Babette said, very pale but steady on her feet as she came to join them. “If you will hear the story from one such as I.”

Henri groaned. Aria pulled Babette close.

“You are coming to Carantia with us, of course,” she said.

Babette smiled sadly. “I can be of no use to you there, Aria. Do not worry about me. Like a cat, I always land on my feet.”

“Then you can land on your feet in Carantia,” Aria said. “If you don't come, I might forget how to be a lady.”

Babette's eyes filled with tears. “If you are certain…?”

“Don't argue with her,” Cort said. “You can't possibly win.”

 

T
HERE WAS ONLY
a brief conversation after that, a discussion of practical matters that finally concluded when Aria refused Henri's stilted offer of lodging at Belle Lune, and insisted on accompanying Cort and his kin directly to Bayou Gris. After binding the prisoners, the villagers and Carantians stuffed them into the second Renier carriage, where they would remain until the Carantians arranged a more permanent solution. Di Reinardus's body was tossed into the nearest bayou for the alligators to devour at will.

Von Losontz and von Mir returned to New Orleans with Dreher's body, promising to come to Bayou Gris once the young man had been properly interred.

 

“I
T
IS
BEAUTIFUL
,” Aria said, standing with Cort among the wildflowers on the hill of memories. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I only wish we didn't have to leave your home so soon after you—”

“There is no reason we cannot return someday,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair. “A queen must have some privileges, after all.”

“And she will make use of them,” Aria murmured, kissing Cort's bare arm. “I wonder if Alese is still alive somewhere. I would like to come back and look for her someday.”

“If she is alive, we'll find her,” Cort said.

“There are so many things…”

Cort kissed the top of her head. “I know. But we can live only one day at a time.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I know Carantia will seem strange to you.”

“No stranger than it will seem to you. But we won't be alone.”

No. Never alone again. “There are places in the mountains I can't wait to show you,” she said. “Places just like this, where we can run without meeting anyone else for miles.”

“Once Carantia is free,” Cort murmured.

She turned her face up to his. “It will be. You and I will make sure of it.”

He looked into her eyes, and she felt the earth spin under her feet. “You set
me
free, Aria.”