𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter fifty-nine; Friends
" If she comes harm I will burn France down with you in it. "

SPRING WAS QUICKLY turning to Summer in France, and a cloudless sky meant no reprieve from the blistering sun for the four noblewomen strolling across the lush lawn of the castle.

"It's baking, when will it cool down?"

"Don't wish for it yet, I've only just recovered from the snow."

Elspeth sighed, her arm linked with Kenna's as the latter complained of the weather.

"Where's Mary? I haven't seen her all day," Lola questioned.

"That's because your eyes have been glued to that book?"

"What book?"

Kenna giggled at Elspeth's curious gaze, quickly explaining that she had found a sort of diary written by a noblewoman, recounting risque redeveaus with various men at court. Each entry ranked the man on his prowess, and the best of all had yet to be found. The only real clue was that he was a hunter with a butterfly-shaped birthmark on his forearm.

And Lola and Kenna were searching for said man, so that Lola may have a romance; no matter how brief.

"Mary will find us," Lola said, "She wouldn't miss your last day of being an unmarried woman."

"Yes, your last hours of freedom before you become an utterly respectable and disgustingly wealthy mother of four."

Kenna approached a fountain, setting her goblet on the side before walking straight into the water.

"Kenna, what are you doing?"

"It's too hot, I'm cooling off!"

The woman laughed as Kenna walked around in the water, waving them in.

"Is it cold?"

"It's heaven."

Elspeth giggled, setting her cup down beside Kenna's, gathering the skirt of her dress as she stepped up onto the ledge, before dipping into the water.

It was chill, quickly sucking away any amount of discomfort the heat had provided.

Greer followed soon after, smiles on all of their faces.

"Greer, your dress," Lola said.

"Oh, no, your dress."

And quickly enough all of them were splashing each other, laughing loudly as the water cooled them off quickly.

Until Greer lost her foot and fell into the water, soaking the entirety of her dress.

"Are you all right?" Lola questioned.

"Oh, just drenched," Greer said, accepting a hand up from a grinning Elspeth, "I should change before my mother finds me."

"You should hurry because I think I see her coming."

Greer quickly departed, leaving Kenna, Elspeth, and Lola alone. The former two climbed out of the fountain after a bit more laughter, basking in the sun as it slowly dried their dresses.

"How old is this journal the two of you found? Are you even sure this man is not aged and wed by now?"

"It's only from two years ago," Kenna informed, "I think your Demetre is in it."

Elspeth suddenly felt like she had been plunged into ice water. Goosebumps rose on her skin despite the sweltering heat.

"Oh?" She said, attempting to feign indifference, "What makes you think it's him?"

Kenna twisted her lips.

"Do you want to read it? I wasn't sure if I should mention it, but--"

"No, I know he's been with women before," Elspeth breathed out, shaking her head, "Unfortunately, that is one rumor of truth."

Lola frowned lightly.

"But he is with you now," Lola said, "The past doesn't matter anymore."

"I'm not angry, just. . . knowing he has shared intimacy with someone else. . . that he would be my first, and I would not be his. . . a part of it is jealousy, I suppose. The other part is insecurity. . . I've no clue the first thing about it, what if. . ."

"Luckily you are friends with experienced women," Kenna said brightly, "We can help take some of the fear out of it. Tell you what it's like, what to expect."

Elspeth blushed at the idea, but nodded, making Kenna chuckle.

"Was the entry about Demetre. . . was it bad?"

"Far from it," Lola admitted.

"A skillful and gentle lover," Kenna informed, "She wrote that she was surprised, considering his reputation of being so cruel. . . But that he was most generous and very clear about his intentions."

Elspeth wasn't sure what to think of that.

"He's quite high in the ranking, despite only having been with him once."

"Well, I suppose that's good news," Elspeth said halfheartedly.

"Ellie, you don't think poorly of us because we slept with men before being wed, do you?"

"Of course not."

"So. . . Don't let this become something that changes your love for Demetre."

"It doesn't, it would never," She denied quickly, "I just. . . I don't know, I suppose I just wish I could have been. . . the first."

"I know you think that now, and perhaps that feeling will not change. It's alright to wish for things to have been different, but, speaking from experience. . . it is much nicer having a man that is able to. . . talk you through things."

Elspeth turned a shade of bright red at Kenna's speech.

Kenna only grinned.

"Alright, now, for your first lesson--"

"I don't need lessons!"

"Well, think of it more like a lesson of anatomy rather than anything else. A lesson in knowing your own body."

"I have a feeling I will regret this conversation."

"You won't, I swear it!"

↬

Elspeth wasn't sure if she regretted her conversation with Kenna and Lola or not. It was nice to know what to expect, but she had been given much more information than she had originally anticipated and was now entirely flustered in Demetre's presence.

Even at Greer's wedding, following a beautiful ceremony, Elspeth could hardly choke out any words to Demetre without hearing Kenna's elaborate descriptions.

"I'm going to grab a drink," Elspeth blurted, "Can I grab you anything?"

Demetre furrowed his brows as she halted in the middle of the dance.

"Are you alright, Petal?" He questioned, stepping closer, "You've been acting nervous all night--"

"I'm perfect!" She said quickly, "I'll be right back!"

Demetre shook his head as she scurried off without a second glance.

Elspeth, however, only now seemed able to catch her breath. She took two goblets but loitered for a moment as she hurriedly downed one of them.

She'd been given a talk before she left Scotland; one about proper interaction in a courtship. Her mother had explained things in the most formal of ways, borderline scientific.

Elspeth understood now it was as to not allow thoughts to linger. Thoughts of fear, nerves, and a tinge of excitement. It was terrifying to think of being so close to someone, but Kenna had said it was a feeling like no other. A connection, a bond, to be formed in privacy.

The woman was so focused on her own thoughts, she hardly noticed a man approaching as she started on her second goblet.

"Lady Elspeth, I did not expect your appetite to be as wild as your actions."

She whirled around quickly, her face melting into a scowl as she was met with none other than Lord Narcisse.

"Have you come to showcase your lack of manners, or is there something of value you wanted to say?" She questioned, placing the empty goblet back down and clutching the half-drunken one.

"I wish to apologize for our first meeting; Had it been under better circumstances, I assure you I would've introduced myself properly. Let us begin again. Lord Narcisse," He said, holding out a hand expectantly.

"Lady Elspeth," She said, eyeing him as she placed her hand in his own. "What are you playing at?"

"Oh, nothing at all, Lady Elspeth. But now that we are on more civil terms, I heard how invested you were in Emile's death. I only wished to extend my condolences for the unfortunate ruling that those Catholic men won't be prosecuted for it; after all, it was only because Emile harmed a boy that it all happened."

Elspeth held the goblet tighter.

"How terribly unfortunate," She said, holding back a sneer, "Considering an innocent boy is dead."

"Innocent? He's maimed another boy, not to mention Emile was a Protestant."

"Of course," Elspeth said, squaring her shoulders, "If you'll excuse me--"

"I just hope you recall this," Narcisse said, grabbing her arm as she attempted to pass, "The next time your king makes a ruling."

Elspeth Liens glanced at his hand on her bicep, and then back at his eyes.

And she smiled.

Because Elspeth knew Demetre's eyes had been on her the entire time. He only ever watched her, and this move had been the wrong one for Narcisse to make.

"Remove your hands."

Narcisse let go, but his eyes never left Elspeth's as Demetre approached.

"Let us have a chat, old friend," Demetre said, clapping the man harshly on the shoulder, "Away from the fanfare."

"I'm quite engaged in--"

"Make time for me," Demetre grinned, baring his teeth, "Come along."

His hand was digging into Narcisse's shoulder, steering him through the party without an inch of hesitation.

↬

  Demetre's heart was pounding. He was attempting to keep it caged in his chest, but he knew it would soon burst out if the conversation with Narcisse did not go how he wanted.

  He could not save Francis from Narcisse. But he would go to the ends of the earth to protect Elspeth.

  Demetre was focused on unclenching his jaw to allow words to form as they entered Narcisse's study. He knew threatening Narcisse was a slippery slope; despite their years in society, Demetre had yet to draw a line in the sand between him and any other nobles, save for the denial of one too many marriage offers.

  He had fed into those rumors his entire life, shut himself off, and his reputation had done most of his work for him. No one had dared to stand against him directly, but Narcisse cast a shadow the matched Demetre's. And now with Francis under his thumb, Narcisse was feeling larger than life.

  So large that he smiled as he took a seat behind his desk, despite knowing clear and well that he had angered the Monster of France by laying a hand on Elspeth Liens.

  Demetre needed to hone his anger; it was a useless weapon if wielded improperly, and he knew Narcisse would only back down if he said the right words.

"You are the only noble whose reputation rivals my own; I thought we may be friends."

  Demetre looked at Narcisse, eyes of burning anger narrowing at the man's easy demeanor.

"We tried. It did not suit us."

Narcisse grinned.

  And Demetre's fury sharpened into a long blade. One that could pierce any armor, and cut any thread of life or loyalty.

  "Your reputation is mere rumors of you murdering brides and swindling political conversations to go in your favor," Demetre noted, clicking his tongue, "Pressing for innocent men to be executed, refusing to ship grain to starving villagers, taking any land you can. . . how very cruel you are, indeed."

  Narcisse only smiled.

  "Keep away from Elspeth," Demetre said simply. "She is not involved."

  "Our first meeting went so poorly, I only wished to properly introduce myself. She did seem rather involved in—"

  "Let me make one thing very clear," Demetre said, standing from his seat, "You are a man who hides behind a mask whilst lying, you force others to lift a blade so no blood touches your hands— the rumors that surround your cruelty are just that; rumors."

  Demetre Langlois laid both palms on Narcisse's desk, leaning down to loom over the man.

  "Everything you have heard about me is true," He whispered, "I implore you to recall that next time you speak to Elspeth Liens."

  "To recall the animals you have hunted?"

  "To recall that Catherine De Medici raised me. That Henry Valois wanted to make a prize out of me. That I killed a beast that bested even you and slaughtered an encampment of men when I was fifteen years of age. . . To recall that the same nobles you control out of fear, have been told stories about the Monster of France most of their lives. They do not bend to please me, Narcisse. They flee the room when I enter."

Narcisse shifted.

"Nobles will always play games with a king, I cannot stop you from this," Demetre said, his voice quiet yet commanding, "But if I see you speaking with Elspeth. . . if you lay a finger on her; if she comes to any harm at all, you will pay with your life, Narcisse."

  "You can hardly expect—"

  "If she falls and scrapes her palms," Demetre said, "A chipped fingernail whilst you are in the room."

  Narcisse almost laughed. Before realizing Demetre Langlois was deadly serious.

  "Langlois—"

  "There are no deals to make here," Demetre said, standing, "No threats or handshakes."

  "There were no threats to be made prior to you having anything you value."

  "If she comes harm I will burn France down with you in it. Never forget who I am, Narcisse."

  Demetre stepped back, stuffing one hand into his pocket as he glanced around the room.

  "You should dust more," He said, lazily pointing his free hand around, "It's quite dingy in here."

  And then without another word, Demetre Langlois left.

  And Narcisse was fuming. Fuming because he had finally been backed into a corner, threatened by the only man who was protected enough to get away with it.

  Demetre had already been pinned as a devil, a murderer; yet no one could touch him. Not any noble, no matter the protests, because he had been granted immunity by the crown and his house was backed by the Vatican.

  Demetre was meant to be cruel. He was a weapon. And Narcisse knew a weapon would never be shamed for the spilling of blood; this, after all, was its sole purpose.

  Which meant in a rather unfortunate way for Narcisse, that the ever-valiant and impossibly annoying Elspeth Liens was entirely untouchable.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
Demetre doesn't play when it comes
to Ellie and we truly love to see it.