Lady Therese De Beauharnais of Roche

10 October, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Bordeux Castle, Bordeux

Monrique

Sunlight streamed through the window. Sensing the bright light, I squinted open my eyes.

Was it dawn already?

After I had placed a sleeping Tommy in his chambers last night, I had finished writing out the forty sets of letters to be sent out to the women on our list. I had been careful not to reveal too much in writing, all the while emphasising that the matter at hand was serious.

Mayhap I had become so exhausted that I forgot to close the curtains last night.

Mayhap I had become so exhausted that I had fallen asleep on my writing table.

Mayhap I had become so exhausted that I had not noticed Liv and Lisa enter my chambers.

What? I forced myself upright, rubbing my eyes.

Two familiar young women were resting comfortably on my armchairs by the fireplace, enjoying a cup of hot beverage, indulging in a companionable silence like old friends.

I could understand why Liv was here. She had another key to my chambers, so that she could visit me whenever she wishes to, and - on the days that my mother was in my vicinity – check up on me from time to time.

However, that did not mean she could meet me so, absurdly early in the morning, or bring my cousin's best friend with her.

A huge yawn came over me. "Liv, Lisa," I enunciated each word slowly, "to what do I owe the displeasure of your company?"

Both Lisa and Liv stared at me for a long while, startled, before the latter broke into an amused smile.

"I had forgotten how sweet you can be in the morning," she remarked impishly.

"You are no different from me, you hypocrite," I muttered, "if you wish to do something useful, please close the curtains and leave me alone." With that, I buried my face in my arms on the table.

"Oh, nay. You will not return to your slumber," I heard Liv stand up, "for one, it is already ten in the morning. Secondly, you have some explaining to do."

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and raised me upright against my will. Before I could slump on the table again, she forced the mug she was holding into my hands.

"Drink some coffee," she insisted, "you will feel more awake."

I simply scowled at her, before I sipped on the warm coffee. "What do you want me to explain?"

"You tell me. Lisa said you needed to discuss something important with me."

I glanced at Lisa, confused for a moment, before it hit me. "Lisa," my voice was dangerously quiet, "did I not assure you that I will tell Liv about the petition myself before I send out the letters? What was the need to bring her here like this without asking me?"

She shrugged. "I assume those are the letters you intend to send out today," she pointed to the stack of parchment on my table, "the earlier you tell her, the better."

"Tell me what?" Liv was growing apprehensive.

I released a huff, running a hand through my hair, as I took a long gulp of my coffee. "Wait for a few minutes," I instructed tiredly, "allow me to take a bath and break my fast first. It is a long story."

***

"You are a Lady Justice?"

Liv's eyes were as wide as saucers when I finished my recount. I could almost see her mind trying hard to process all the information I had dumped on her in the span of an hour.

"I am training to become one, yes," I corrected her.

She nodded slowly. "Interesting."

A short silence reigned, as Lisa stared between Liv and me incredulously.

"Is that all?" she raised an eyebrow eventually, "after everything that she has told you, all you can say is that it is interesting?"

"Pardon me if I am finding this a little hard to digest," Liv shot back at her, "my best friend has been keeping a secret from me for nearly twoyears, and it amazes me how I had failed to even notice it before today." Surprisingly, there was no resentment in her voice – only wonder.

I smiled sadly. This is the least of the secrets I am keeping from you, Liv.

"That is irrelevant here!" Lisa was exasperated, throwing her hands up in the air, "the important question is, what do you think of this petition? Will you support it?"

Liv gazed at us, her blue eyes swimming with turmoil. She thought long and hard, before she began to speak.

"Before you push forward with this petition, the both of you must understand something," she remarked quietly, "for every heiress you find who desperately wishes to rule in her own right like Lady Madeleine, you will find one who is quite content with her father or husband ruling for her. It is not because she thinks that her male family members are superior to her, but rather, because she truly has no interest in ruling."

"I belong to the second category," she admitted, "I live in a very small world that revolves around my parents, my friends and the royal court. My only aim now is to marry, and marry well and have a family that I can afford to raise. That is all I want, and have ever wanted. Pardon my honesty, but I truly cannot care less who rules Tessensohn for me."

Lisa bit her lip, not hiding her disappointment. "Oh."

However, I was calm. Every one of us had different things we wanted from life. Jules wanted to be a warrior, and she fought to become one. Lady Madeleine wanted to serve her people, and was fighting to be able to. Liv wanted an advantageous marriage, and a family, and was living at the royal court for the past two years trying to find a suitable groom.

I respected all of these choices.

"But I know that this is important to you, Tess," Liv had continued softly in the meanwhile, "although I am not certain about Lady Madeleine, I know you have always had a way with your people in Roche, and you will make an excellent sovereign Duchess yourself when the time comes. As such, I will sign the petition - for you to be able to rule in your duchy.'

Lisa's eyes widened in surprise. "You will?"

My gaze met Liv's, and we shared a small smile.

***

Despite my protests, Liv forced me into a waiting carriage at the courtyard, moments after I had tasked a number of messengers to deliver those forty letters for me.

"If you are going to meet all those women at Lord Testalt's engagement ball, you need to make a good first impression," she insisted, as she climbed in after me, "and for that, you need a nice gown." She gestured the horseman to ride on ahead to the market.

"I have nice gowns – "

" - that are many years old," she finished for me, rolling her eyes, "truly, when was the last time you purchased gowns for yourself?"

I frowned, as I mused.

It seemed to be a purely rhetorical question. "The dismal state of your wardrobe should be a criminal offence," she continued to complain, "we are buying new gowns today, and that is that. Do not even bother arguing." She pinned me down with her gaze.

I simply shook my head in faint amusement. I looked out of the window, hugging my furs tighter against myself, as I watched the snowy landscapes breeze past me.

Although I would never admit it to her, I felt much, much better after telling her the truth about my studies and the petition. There were already too many lies and secrets between us, and they had long begun to wear away my soul.

At that very moment, the horses neighed violently.

Before I could peek out the window to see what was wrong, the carriage jolted violently to one side, causing me to fall on top of Liv. The horses continued to pull the carriage ahead at ten times the usual speed in their fright, and we were flung against the walls with every gallop.

It was almost as if the carriage was no longer balanced -

Liv winced. "Ouch – "

"Sir!" I called out to the horseman, "what is the matter with the horses?"

There was no response.

"Tess," Liv mumbled nervously, her pupils dilated with fear, "I think he is no longer controlling the horses..."

Grabbing the walls for support, I unsteadily kneeled on the seats and leaned out of the window, in time to see our horseman jump off from his seat and land safely on the soft bed of snow that lined the cobbled streets, and make a run for it.

All the while, our horses continued to charge ahead, wild and frightened.

That was also when I noticed that the back wheel of the carriage, which was directly below the window I was leaning out of, had come undone.

That wretch. Whatever did we do to him to deserve this?

"Tess, what shall we do?" Liv trembled, hanging onto the wall for dear life.

As the carriage swung as from left to right, I clung to the door latch as well. "We need to stop the carriage," I panted, trying hard to keep my balance and my cool at the same time, "I shall try to control the horses first. Do you have anything sharp with you?"

She shook her head.

I sighed, dreading what I had to do next. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pulled back my fist, and slammed my knuckles against the glass that separated the inside of the carriage from the horseman's seat with everything I had.

The glass shattered on impact. I did not wince, but Liv did.

"By God," she was horrified, "Tess, your hand - "

I wrung my fists a few times, trying to become accustomed to the sting. "I will be fine," I gritted my teeth, as I climbed out, shaking and breathless, and plopped down on the horseman's seat.

Grabbing the reins, I gently tugged on them to calm down the horses, before guiding them to a gradual stop by the side of the pathway.

I took a few breaths to steady myself, and heaved a sigh of relief. In the meanwhile, I heard Liv open the door, and stumble out of the carriage, coughing.

"Any injuries?" I called out to her.

"None. I am feeling completely wonderful," sarcasm dripped from her every word, as she made her way towards me, "you?"

I cracked a weak smile. "Never been better."

"Say, is that a piece of parchment sticking out of the seat?" Liv frowned then, reaching out to pull something from behind me.

Her eyes scanned across the parchment, her countenance draining of all colour when she finished reading. Wordlessly, she handed it to me, her hands trembling.

My forehead creased, as I began to read it.

My dear Lady Therese,

Have your parents never taught you not to board an empty carriage without checking who is riding it? The world is already dangerous enough for women these days. If you are well enough to be reading this, you have my heartiest congratulations. It must be your lucky day.

Believe it or not, my intention is not to kill you. For now, at least. I simply wanted to give you a small taste of what I am capable of, if you do not give me what I want.

My demand is very simple: Cease trying to rally supporters for your absurd petition. The very idea is preposterous. Politics and reigning are men's work, and I will be damned – and so will many men, I am certain - before I see weak, feeble wenches assume power, botch up the affairs of state with their fickle minds, and bring this country to ruin.

If you do not obey me, I can assure you, your head will be the next to roll along with that carriage wheel.

~ Rex

***

Punching the glass partition was less painful than this.

The old healer in the village kept shaking her head in disapproval, as she plucked out the shards of glass, one by one, that had pierced my skin with no pity.

"Youngsters these days," she muttered, sighing, "always in a hurry. You should take more caution, child. What if you had been further injured? What if it had dropped on someone's head?"

I smiled sheepishly. "I was not thinking, Dame Beth."

The story I had sold her was that I had accidentally hit my hand against a glass vase at the castle, in my excitement to go down to the village to buy new gowns for the engagement ball.

She seemed to believe it, given how restless I had been from the moment I stepped foot here.

The letter from the mysterious Rex disturbed me to no end. Who was this Rex?

How had he found out about my petition?

Had Lady Madeleine or I been too indiscreet by speaking about it in the dungeons?

Nevertheless, this petition had to, and will go forth at all costs. This was as much about me, as it was about Lady Madeleine. I had no intention of giving up, none at all, come what may.

Especially not on the whims of a sexist, stuck-up little –

"I have finished!" Liv burst through the doors happily just then, "I have given the seamstress your measurements, and the gown I have chosen for you should be tailored to your size before the ball."

She skipped to my side, in high spirits, her arms full of bags of what looked like pastries and accessories.

Shopping always put Liv in a good mood. If not for the small bruises near her temple, and along her arms, one would have never guessed she had narrowly escaped the clutches of death merely an hour ago.

"What gown did you choose?" I was wary.

"One that will look good on you," she assured me cheerfully, sitting down next to me, "it shall be a surprise." Her eyes danced.

I continued to eye her with doubt.

She seemed to read my mind. "Not the bumblebee one I almost chose for myself a couple of days ago, or anything equally horrid," she laughed, patting my lap, "I promise."

"Thank you, Liv," I chuckled weakly.

"So how is her hand, ma'am?" she addressed Dame Beth next, "will it heal soon?"

Dame Beth had applied some salve, and was bandaging up my injured hand with clean, white linen as she spoke. "'Tis nothing that some care and caution cannot fix," she assured us both, "change the linen twice every day for the next one week, and apply this salve every time you do so." She handed me a small box.

I accepted it, observing it curiously.

"Most importantly, take care," she emphasised sternly, "am I clear?"

"Aye, ma'am."

We paid her for her service, and walked out of her hut. The sun's rays enveloped us weakly in the winter cold, as we descended into the crowd that was taking full advantage of everything that the lines of shops in the markets had to offer, from food to clothing to accessories.

"Are you certain you do not want anything for those bruises, Liv?" I queried.

"I will be all right," she smiled sheepishly, "I have received worse bruises from your cousin the Crown Princess Consort, remember?"

Liv had relentlessly provoked and antagonised Jules when the Crown Prince had travelled to Tessensohn for his Potential Quest two years ago, for the sake of winning a petty, pointless power struggle. Needless to say, Liv had come out of that fight with a black eye.

One did not instigate a fight with a Lady Knight, and come out unscathed.

However, having witnessed the amount of pressure Jules was currently under to deliver a healthy Prince, and the way the Queen all but kept her imprisoned in her own chambers, I could sense that Liv was secretly glad that the Crown Prince did not choose her as his bride after all.

"Aye, I remember," I answered drily, "I was quite surprised your mother believed you got that black eye from falling down. It was clearly the size of a fist."

She grew pink. "Well, she had been more worried about me than about where I got that bruise from. It was an easy lie."

"That may be true," I conceded, when I noticed a commotion by the side of the cobbled path.

There was a small crowd gathered around the heap of snow next to a fruits stall, whispering and talking amongst themselves, as they repeatedly pointed at something on the heap.

Liv's forehead creased. "What are they pointing at?" she murmured curiously, "come, Tess, let us go and see what is the matter." She pulled me towards the crowd before I could protest.

We pushed our way through the crowd, until we reached the front. On top of the heap of snow lay a small, honey-blonde little boy of about five years old, who was clearly cold and exhausted. He was almost turning blue, as blue as his baby blue eyes, as they slowly fluttered in his feeble attempts to keep awake.

My blood ran cold, colder than the snow, colder than the ice.

Liv's hand flew up to her mouth in horror. "Holy Mother of God – "

Even before she had opened her mouth, I was already down on my knees on the prickly, frost-covered ground, crawling towards the heap on my one good hand. Without another thought, I pulled the child into my embrace, rubbing his arms, his legs, willing circulation to return to his body.

My heart was in my mouth, and a dark, indescribable fear gripped me as I tightened my hold on his small body, praying and begging every God in the vast universe for the child's life.

"Tommy," I whispered, aghast.

***

"T-Tessie? W-what are y-you doing?"

Little Tommy, who was bundled up in both the fur coats I brought with me from Roche, stared up miserably at me from beside the fireplace in my chambers, still shivering from the cold.

"Just a moment!"

I was adding some salt to the vegetable soup I had brought for him from the kitchens, and stirring it well, making certain that all the vegetables in it were mashed beyond recognition.

At the same time, I was also attempting to compose myself.

In these few hours, I had changed him out of his wet clothes, forced him into a warm bath, allowed him to sleep for a while in my arms, and through it all, that image of him passed out on the heap of snow, all alone in the cold, kept haunting me.

I shook my head clear.

I should not be thinking about any of that. The past had to stay in the past. The child was with me now, and he was safe and warm. That was all that mattered.

Fixing a faint smile on my face now, I knelt down in front of him. "Look what I have for you here," I presented the soup like a present to him, "some piping hot soup, just for you."

He leaned forward to sniff it, with much curiosity, and his nose wrinkled at once. "Ew! I smell broccoli!"

"There is no broccoli here," I showed him the bowl, amused, "see?"

He suspiciously peered down into the bowl. He took the spoon from my hands, and stirred the soup, looking for traces of green florets.

I tried hard to hide a smile. He would never find the broccoli. I had mashed the florets too finely.

After a long while, he frowned. "There is no broccoli," he conceded reluctantly, "but I still smell it!"

Time for another tactic.

"Come now, Tommy, I made this soup myself," I pretended to heave a huge sigh, "please drink it for me? Please, please, please, with a cherry on top?" I pouted, and widened my eyes for good effect.

At once, as I expected, he broke into happy giggles. "You sounded just like me, Tessie," he was on the verge of rolling on the floor in his amusement, "I say that." He pointed to himself.

I smiled tenderly. The laughter had brought some colour to his countenance. Lord, if it meant that he would stay healthy and happy, I did not mind making a right fool of myself like this every day.

"You were very good," he patted my cheek fondly, "good job."

"So how about it? Please?" I held up a spoonful, hopeful.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep, steadying breath. "Oh, all right. For you," he nodded, as he opened his mouth.

I slowly fed him, chuckling, as he scrunched up his face in disgust after each mouthful. However, he was so ravenous that he tolerated the taste, and finished it very quickly.

"Would you like some more?" an impish smile danced about my lips.

His eyes grew round in horror. "No more, no more," he objected vehemently, before hesitating, "but...do you have some – "

" – milk and sweetmeats?" I guessed.

He nodded, smiling sheepishly.

I stood up, and walked towards the table. "Well," I lifted the tray I had set up there, "it so happens that I do." I placed it down in front of him.

His blue eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. He reached out and grabbed the glass of warm milk himself, and chugged it down gulp after gulp without a break.

"Lord, slow down, Tommy," I warned, "you will choke – "

He wiped his lips, as he released a burp. "I will be all right," he shot me a happy grin, setting down the empty glass, before he started on the sweetmeats.

I shook my head in amusement. At the speed at which he was eating, one would think he was a homeless child who was eating well for the first time in a very long time -

My smile faded. "Thomas," I addressed him quietly, "when was the last time you had a meal?"

He paused for a moment to think. "Last night," he then continued munching, "Mama and I set off for the village very early in the morning today. There was no time for breakfast."

"And where is your Mama?"

"I do not know," he blinked in confusion, "she told me to wait beside the fruit stall for her in the morning, and went somewhere, but she never came back." He involuntarily shuddered, remembering the cold.

So where the hell was Rochelle now?

What the hell had she been thinking leaving a young child alone to wait in the freezing cold for close to 10 hours?

There were many missing gaps in this story. However, I decided not to press the issue for now, and remained silent, as he continued to happily eat. When he finished, I gave him some water, and put away the tray.

"Come, 'tis time we put you to bed," I sighed, and was about to lift him, when he shook his head.

"Nay, Tessie," he pleaded, "let me stay here with you, please?"

"The bed is right there, and these are my chambers," I pointed out, "I will not be going anywhere."

He shook his head again. "Nay," he mumbled stubbornly, climbing onto my lap, "I am staying here." Like he had last night, he wrapped his arms around my neck, and leaned against me, closing his eyes.

However, he held on to me too tightly, almost as if he were afraid to let go, and his body still trembled. The child had not cried even once since he regained consciousness, but I suspected the fear still gripped him.

The fear of being left completely alone.

"Shhh," I murmured, cradling him, "all is well, all is well."

I pressed a small kiss to his temple, and hummed a lullaby under my breath. Slowly, but surely, his breathing evened as he fell into a deep slumber.

At that very moment, my doors flung open.

Tommy woke up with a jolt, as I jumped to my feet, holding him tightly against me. Moments later, Lady Rochelle stumbled in.

"Did your parents not teach you to knock before you enter anyone's chambers?" I asked coolly.

I looked her up and down, bewildered. Her blonde locks were matted to her cheeks, and she swayed unsteadily from left to right on her feet, as her bloodshot eyes tried to focus on me and failed.

This was not the woman I had met yesterday evening.

"You little wretch," she slurred, stinking of cheap whiskey, "where are you?"

She was intoxicated.

Tommy began to whimper, hiding his face in my neck. At once, the mystery of where she had gone leaving him out in the cold was painfully obvious.

"Have you been out in the taverns the whole day?" I asked incredulously.

"What I do...or do not do...is none...of your bloody business," she spat out, "now...give me...back my son. Thomas...Richard...Delaborde! Come here...this instant!" She yelled at Tommy.

He held on tighter to me, frightened. "Please do not send me to her, Tessie," he begged, "please let me stay with you. Please, please, please..."

"Hush, little one," I murmured to him, deeply disturbed, "I am here. I am here."

"What are you...whispering to the...witch, you blasted wretch?" she growled at him, "when I...say something...I expect...to be obeyed...at once...you hear? I said...come here now!" She hurled the near empty bottle she held in her hand towards us.

I ducked, missing the bottle by inches, as it shattered against the wall behind us.

Was she crazy?

Lord, I could feel the fire, hot and scorching, rise up my throat. I did not know if it was Tommy's scream that reverberated through my chambers, or it was the parallels I could easily draw between Rochelle and my own mother in that moment.

Shifting the child's weight to my hip, I strode straight up to Rochelle and slapped her twice, sharp and hard.

She almost doubled over with the force I had used to hit her, as she cupped her cheek, where a red, five-fingered print began to show. She looked up at me, shocked and confused.

"Leave," I seethed, trembling with rage, "leave this chamber before I have you arrested for attempted murder, or worse, kill you myself with my own two hands."

She continued to stare at us, still in a haze of inebriation, before a twisted smile crossed her face.

"Stay here with her, then," her blue eyes glinted and fixed on Tommy, "you have caused me...nothing...but trouble from the moment...you were born." She was so close I could smell the stink on her breath.

Tommy began to sob in fright, flinching from her.

I pushed her away towards the doors, disgusted. "Go away, Rochelle – "

"You ugly, disobedient, jinxed little wretch," she hissed at him, laced with cruelty, "you are the bane of my existence. I do not want you. I have never wanted you. No one else does either - "

My breath hitched. In that moment, I swear, I saw my mother in her eyes.

I all but kicked her out of my chambers and locked the doors firmly behind her and her poison, breathless and reeling hard from the encounter.

"T-Tessie?" Tommy whimpered.

I looked down at his countenance, and saw my own face from twenty years ago mirrored in his.

I shook my head vehemently. "Nay, fear not. She will not come here again," I hugged him, "you are safe here. You are safe here." I sank to the ground, squeezing my eyes shut.

I no longer knew if I was convincing him, or myself.

I had heard that excess alcohol transformed one into a completely different person. But this? This was unacceptable. Which sane mother could come to hate and hurt her own son – her own flesh and blood - like this when she was intoxicated?

Another terrible thought dawned on me.

Or...or was she this horrible to him even when she was sober?

With blood roaring in my ears, I pulled back and looked Tommy in the eye. "That giant you were telling me about yesterday. From Jack and The Beanstalk. The one who snores loudly and calls you bad names," I asked him urgently, "who is it?"

His lower lip trembled, as tears continued to fall silently down his cheeks.

I kissed away his tears. "Thomas, mon ange," my voice was utterly soft, "let me help you. Who is it?"

"He also fears the light," he reminded me in a whisper.

"He?" I asked him again.

He shook his head, exhausted. "She," he admitted brokenly, "please let me stay with you, Tessie." He buried his face in my shoulder.

My heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

***