As if having similar thoughts, Oudin scoots to rest against the wall beside me, though he keeps his distance. “Some of this is my fault,” he says, gazing out at the stars. “I knew how Lambert felt about Beatrez. I should have said something when Simon put her name on the list.”
I turn my head to look at Oudin, wincing as pain shoots through my neck. “Lambert was in love with Beatrez?”
Oudin snorts. “Half the men I know were at some point. That was her… specialty.” He shifts uncomfortably. “She gave first timers a confidence-building experience.”
It’s odd to see him so awkward considering how uncouth he normally is. “And Lambert went to her?”
“I arranged it. He needed something normal after…” Oudinshakes his head rather than finish that thought. “I even paid in advance, so she could make a show of returning Lambert’s money.” He gently probes his swollen lip. “He proposed to her, but most of her besotted customers did.”
“And soon after that she chose to marry,” I say.
Oudin nods. “He was devastated. I never imagined he would kill her, though.”
Simon had described most first murders as panicked and often unplanned. “I’m not sure Lambert thought he would, either,” I say.
That was how it started. Lambert had seen Beatrez as a woman he could rescue, but she rejected him in favor of someone undoubtedly lower, and he couldn’t stand that. After killing her, he retreated to his previous quiet, awkward demeanor, still obsessed with the idea but too wounded to try again. His engagement forced him to make another attempt, but things must have gone terribly wrong with Perrete, and he killed her in a rage. With Ysabel and Nichole, the disgust and lust for blood had come quicker. Emeline was silenced before she could tell Simon anything she knew that connected them all. Sun only knows how many more women he would have gone through if I hadn’t caught his attention.
I was a far more appropriate candidate and had a few things in common with his mother; I was even raised at the same abbey. That his competition for my affection was Simon made it more exciting—Lambert could defeat both his rival and his hunter. Yet, in the end, it wasn’t him I went to, it was Simon.
I was Beatrez all over again.
“You said Lambert needed something normal,” I say. “Did you mean after your mother’s illness?”
Oudin nods, his eyes blank. “Juliane’s delusions were strange but easily dismissed as nonsense. Mother’s were more insidious.Or maybe we were just more impressionable. Lambert was the only one she loved, but I gave up trying to please her when I saw what that meant.” He shivers and pulls his knees closer, almost to his chest. “Unnatural things sons should never do with mothers.”
I don’t want to know. Fortunately, Oudin isn’t inclined to elaborate.
“Her despising me was actually my protection,” he continues. “It’s sad to think I was the lucky one.”
“Oudin,” I whisper, and he turns to meet my eyes for the first time. “Did Lambert kill your mother?”
“No, that was Father.” Oudin grimaces. “He couldn’t lie to himself anymore about what was happening. I think he believed it was the only way to free Lambert from her influence. Except his way of getting Lambert to please him was to criticize. My brother couldn’t handle that either.”
Shouts below tell us Lambert’s body has been spotted.
Oudin pushes himself up the wall to a stand. “I think we should tell everyone my brother fell while searching for Simon, but we shouldn’t say Simon was actually here. Then we can push the idea that he’s long gone from the city.” He offers me his hand, but when he sees how raw and scraped mine are, he grasps my forearms.
“We’ll have to tell Remi before we go down.” I wince as Oudin gently raises me to my feet. It would be much easier to list the few places I’mnotscraped or bruised. Oudin waits until I’m steady before releasing me, his civility disconcerting. “I imagine you could really use a drink right now,” I joke feebly.
Oudin blinks, but his surprise isn’t directed at me. “For once in my life, I actually don’t.”