“It’s Ansel.”

With a grumbled curse, she hopped down. I beat her to the door and pulled it open. “What is it?”

Lou glared at him. “I like you, Ansel, but this had better be something good. Emilie and Alexandre just had a moment, and I swear if they don’t kiss soon, I will literally die.”

At Ansel’s confusion, I shook my head, fighting back a grin. “Ignore her.”

He nodded, still bemused, before bowing hastily. “Madame Labelle is downstairs, Captain. She—she demands to speak with Madame Diggory.”

Lou wriggled beneath my arm. I stepped aside before she could stomp on my toe. Or bite me. A learned experience from our time at the river. “What does she want?”

Lou crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Did you tell her to piss off?”

“Lou,” I warned.

“She refuses to leave.” Ansel shifted uncomfortably. “She says it’s important.”

“Well, then. I suppose Emilie and Alexandre will have to wait. Tragic.” Lou elbowed past me to grab her cloak. Then she halted abruptly, nose wrinkling. “Also, Chass—you stink.”

I blocked her path. Resisted the urge to rise. Or smell myself. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Of course I am.” She sidestepped me, scrunching her face and waving a hand in front of her nose. I bristled. Surely I didn’t smell that bad. “Ansel just said she won’t leave until she sees me.”

Deliberately, I reached behind her, brushing my sweaty skin against her cheek, and grabbed my coat. She didn’t move. Merely turned her head to glare at me, eyes narrowed. Our faces inches apart, I fought the urge to lean down and inhale. Not to smell me—but to smell her. When she hadn’t been traipsing in the infirmary, she smelled . . . good. Like cinnamon.

Clearing my throat, I shoved my arms into my coat. My shirt, still damp with sweat, rolled and bunched up against my skin. Uncomfortable. “She shouldn’t be here. We finished our interrogation yesterday.”

And a lot of good it had done us. Madame Labelle was as slippery as Lou. After accidentally revealing the witch’s true name, she’d remained tight-lipped and wary. Suspicious. The Archbishop had been furious. She was lucky he hadn’t detained her for the stake—her and Lou.

“Perhaps she wants to extend another offer,” Lou said, oblivious to the precariousness of her situation.

“Another offer?”

“To buy me for the Bellerose.”

I frowned. “The purchase of human beings as property is illegal.”

“She won’t tell you she’s purchasing me. She’ll say she’s purchasing an indenture—for training me, beautifying me, providing me room and board. It’s how people like her slip through the cracks. East End runs on indentures.” She paused, tilting her head. “But that’s probably a moot point now that we’re married. Unless you wouldn’t mind sharing?”

I buttoned up my coat in tense silence. “She doesn’t want to buy you.”

She swept past me with a mischievous grin, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. “Shall we find out?”

Madame Labelle waited in the foyer. Two of my brothers stood beside her. Expressions wary, they looked unsure whether she was welcome at this hour. The Tower—and kingdom—enforced strict curfews. She stood calmly between them, however. Chin held high. Her face—perhaps once exceptionally beautiful, but aged now, with fine lines around her eyes and mouth—broke into a wide smile upon seeing Lou.

“Louise!” She held her arms out as though expecting Lou to embrace her. I almost laughed. “How splendid to see you in such good health—though those bruises on your face look ghastly. I hope our gracious hosts aren’t responsible?”

All inclination to laugh died in my throat. “We would never harm her.”

Her eyes fell to me, and she clasped her hands together in feigned delight. “How wonderful to see you again, Captain Diggory! Of course, of course. I should’ve known better. You’re far too noble, aren’t you?” She smiled, revealing those unnaturally white teeth. “I do apologize for the lateness of the hour, but I need to speak with Louise immediately. I hope you won’t mind me stealing her away for a moment.”

Lou didn’t move. “What do you want?”

“I’d rather hoped to discuss it in private, dear. The information is quite . . . sensitive. I attempted to speak with you yesterday after the interrogation, but my escort and I found you otherwise occupied in the library.” She looked between the two of us with a knowing smile, leaning forward and whispering, “I never interrupt a lovers’ quarrel. It’s one of the few rules by which I live.”

Lou’s eyes boggled. “That wasn’t a lovers’ quarrel.”

“No? Then perhaps you’d be amenable to reconsidering my offer?”

I resisted the urge to step between them. “You need to leave.”

“Rest easy, Captain. I have no plans of whisking away your bride . . . yet.” At my expression, she winked and laughed. “But I do insist on speaking privately. Is there a room that Madame Diggory and I could use? Somewhere less”—she gestured to the Chasseurs standing at attention around us—“congested?”

At that moment, however, the Archbishop stormed into the foyer in his nightcap. “What’s all this commotion? Don’t you all have duties to attend—” His eyes widened when he saw Madame Labelle. “Helene. What an unpleasant surprise.”

She curtsied. “Likewise, Your Eminence.”

I hastened to bow, fisting a hand over my heart. “Madame Labelle is here to speak with my wife, sir.”

“Is she?” His gaze didn’t waver. He stared at Madame Labelle with burning intensity, lips pressed into a hard line. “How unfortunate, then, that the church locks its doors in approximately”—he pulled a watch from his pocket—“three minutes.”

Her answering smile was brittle. “Surely the church shouldn’t lock its doors at all?”

“These are dangerous times, madame. We must do what we can to survive.”

“Yes.” Her eyes flicked to Lou. “We must.”

Silence descended as we all glared at one another. Tense and awkward. Lou shifted uneasily, and I contemplated removing Madame Labelle by force. Whatever she claimed otherwise, the woman had made her purpose perfectly clear, and I would burn the Bellerose to the ground before Lou became a courtesan. Like it or not, she’d made an oath to me first.