𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter fifty-three; Friends and Foes
" I wonder how you will pay for this. "

  ELSPETH FELT LIGHTER when they returned to the castle. Not that anything had truly been solved; her brother was still gone, there was much to do in terms of she and Demetre's un-official courtship, and she needed to apologize to Lola for not formally meeting her child yet, but a part of her felt as though she could handle it.

  Maybe not well, maybe not the way someone like her mother would be able to, with grace and ease; but she could do it.

  Until she caught wind from Alex Dupont that Nostradamus was sitting in a cell with a death sentence hanging over his head. Imprisoned and sentenced to death for the murder of a Lord's son.

  "Petal, I'll speak with--"

  "No, he will be facing the both of us," Elspeth argued with a fixed glare, "Nostradamus of all people--!"

  "I hardly think it was a choice Francis made willingly," Demetre attempted to soothe, "Lord Narcisse is involved--"

  "I don't even know who that is, so clearly he can't be that important."

  Demetre attempted to stifle a laugh, but Elspeth heard it clearly and whirled on him, pointing an accusatory finger.

  "I am not joking!'"

  "I know, Petal," Demetre said easily, "Come, let us find Francis together, then."

  Elspeth took off at that. Demetre hurried to match her pace, but she was tearing through the halls like a bat out of hell.

  He knew her heart was too large for her own body, and Nostradamus had been lucky enough to become someone she cared for, but Demetre had not expected her to react so blazingly to the news.

  Demetre's heart jumped as he spotted Francis already speaking with Narcisse, and Elspeth barreling toward them. He wanted to pause time, to grab Elspeth and take her far, far away from the situation; she had been relatively easy to protect thus far. All he really had to keep her away from was Henry and the Blood Wood.

  But with more nobles coming out of the woodwork, Demetre knew he would be put to the test.

  "Francis!"

  Demetre winced as both men turned to her in shock.

  "How dare you!"

  Francis said nothing as Elspeth marched straight up to him and shouted. She was shorter than him, and wearing one of her lovely Parisian gowns, but had had never seen a person look so murderous. Save for, perhaps, his mother.

  "Elspeth only means to inquire about Nostradamus," Demetre said quickly, joining her side.

  "I do not," She argued, her brow pinched in anger, "I mean to say "how dare you"!"

  "He sent a nobleman to his death--"

  "I highly doubt that," Elspeth spat at the unfamiliar man as he spoke, "And who are you-- is this the Lord Narcisse, Demetre?"

  ". . . Yes, and--" Demetre hesitated.

  "And what authority do you have to demand a loyal court physician be executed?!" She questioned harshly.

  "Much more than you, my dear," Narcisse spoke evenly, despite his pulsing anger, "Langlois, I had no idea you were accepting strays."

  "I'll cut your tongue out of your mouth," Demetre said smoothly, hardly sparing the man a glance.

  Narcisse smiled.

  "Ellie," Francis tried, "Please, just let me--"

  "He is a good man, Francis," Elspeth continued strongly, "I refuse to believe he's done what is accused of him. House Langlois stands with Nostradamus."

  Francis's eyes widened, looking to Demetre who was rubbing his forehead in stress.

  "Is that true, Lord Langlois?" Narcisse said, turning to the man. Almost daring him to speak.

  "Yes," Elspeth spat before Demetre could open his mouth, earning Narcisse's attention again, "As a member of House Langlois, my word carries weight, too."

  Narcisse raised a brow.

  "House Langlois stands with Nostradamus," Demetre repeated, "As Lady Elspeth says."

  Francis looked so torn. So torn Demetre wanted to yank him away and speak with him privately; he loathed Narcisse but had no doubts Elspeth could hold her own for a few minutes.

  "Francis, perhaps we should speak--"

  "I heard about the execution. If Lord Narcisse demanded it, those men are certainly innocent."

  All three spun to the approaching voice. Elspeth recognized him as Louis of Conde, the man attributed with Francis's safe return to the castle.

  "Nostradamus is, I've no doubt the others are as well," Elspeth said quickly, sticking out a hand, "Elspeth Liens, wonderful to meet someone with morals."

  Louis almost laughed then. Despite the weight of the cause, the woman's spirit alone lifted the atmosphere.

  "Louis of Conde," He introduced, shaking her head.

  "I've heard enough from a woman with no real--"

  "I've a title in Scotland and France, and I would expect you to use it. I'm well trained in all manners of nobility; both societal and political, I have much more powerful friends than you, I can assure you, and my stake in the situation is high, so please, tell me what it is I lack, Lord Narcisse?"

  He stared at her for a moment.

  "You are the one, after all, sending innocent men to their deaths," She continued, glancing at Louis as she repeated his words.

  "Careful of your accusations," Narcisse said, turning his attention to Louis, "I could make some of my own."

  "You've made them to others, you can make them to me."

  "I believe this man to be a secret Protestant, a radical, practicing the faith of your enemies in England and Germany."

  Elspeth glanced at Demetre, whose face was tight.

  "Is this true?" Francis asked Louis.

  "No. I am a Catholic and a Frenchman," Louis said, "But I believe France should be ruled by you, not by blood money from Rome. The Vatican is corrupt-- they're betraying their faith by allowing the strong to prey on the weak."

  "You've proved my case for me," Narcisse said, "He is a radical. A Catholic who hates the Catholic Church."

  "I hate any man that hides behind God while they murder and steal. Men like Narcisse, protected by the church and the crown. . ." Louis said, looking back to Francis, "Your father built his power by giving the nobles what they wanted. If he were here now, he would let those men die."

  "And what do you expect him to do, risk disenfranchising the nobles he depends on?"

  "Well, maybe it's time we change things, shift the power back to where it belongs. With you, our king."

  Francis looked uneasy.

  "You're unsure of who to trust."

  "Yes, I am."

  "Then trust no one but yourself. Trust your sense of what is right and what is wrong, because when dawn comes and those men are let outside, you'll have to decide what kind of king you want to be."

  Francis looked to no one but Elspeth as Louis spoke those final words.

  "Nostradamus is my friend," Elspeth said, her fire dying down slowly, "He housed me. Healed me. Gave me hope. . . I do not want you to feel backed into a corner, Francis, for you, too, are my friend, but. . . please. . . I say this as a friend, not your subject. . . please do not make me go through the pain of losing another so soon."

  Elspeth smiled sadly, looking to Demetre and taking his arm.

  She glanced between the men once more. Louis looked almost. . . sad. Narcisse looked impossibly frustrated. And poor Francis looked more conflicted than before.

  "I'm going to visit my friend. Stay with him as long as I can," She announced, "I suppose you will have much to think about."

↬

  Demetre was hesitant to leave Elspeth, but she assured him it was alright, especially since he intended to be available for Francis's council. So he left her with Alex and Hugo, who stayed stationed outside of Nostradamus's cell.

  "You shouldn't be down here."

  "Ah, but I am," Elspeth sighed, sweeping her dress under her legs and taking a seat on the dirt cell floor beside him, "I brought you food. Real food, too."

  Nostradamus glanced up, only to find a reassuring smile on Elspeth's face, and a plate stacked high in her arms.

  "You did not have to."

  "I know," She said softly, setting the plate on her lap as she stretched her legs out, leaning against the stone wall beside him, "But strangely, you were the first person to comfort me on one of the worst days I have lived. And you gave me hope when no one else could."

  She glanced at him, smiling sadly.

  "I plead to Francis," Elspeth admitted, "After shouting at him and Lord Narcisse."

  Nostradamus smiled, shaking his head. He accepted the plate from her, poking around at the food for a moment.

  "I wish I could do more," Elspeth said quietly.

  "You have done enough."

  Elspeth only shrugged sadly.

  "I know you're innocent," She said, leaning her head to look at him, "I won't let anyone hurt you."

  ". . . I fear you do not hold the power to make that choice."

  Elspeth smiled as he looked at her, tears brimming her eyes.

  Because he was right. Because in all reality, she'd already done what she could. And his fate was now in someone else's hands.

  "I at least won't let you be alone," She whispered thickly, still smiling as tears trickled down her cheeks. "I'll pray with you if you'd want that. . . and if the worst happens-- which it will not-- but if it does. . . I will pray over you. Pray that my brother will welcome you to Heaven. You'll be in good company, I promise."

  Nostradamus didn't have the heart to tell her he did not believe he would go to Heaven. He'd sinned in many ways for many years; his soul was stained so deeply even her prayer would not help.

  But Elspeth needed it perhaps as much as he did, so he nodded.

  Elspeth reached out, grabbing one of his hands, and closing her eyes. She spoke softly, praying for proof of his innocence, praying Nostradamus would live a long and happy life however he pleased. She prayed that he would be given the kindness he gave to every ill and injured person who stumbled into his care.

  And then they sat in silence. As Nostradamus ate and Elspeth hummed.

  The guards attempted to remove Elspeth when day grew to night, but after a brisk exchange with Hugo, the men let her be.

  And she remained there—the entire night. Only exiting when Catherine arrived, giving the two of them privacy.

  Elspeth frowned as she heard shouting before the door opened and Nostradamus was being hauled out by guards.

  "What happened?" She questioned, quickly joining his pace.

  "She will do nothing."

  Elspeth's heart climbed to her throat as she walked alongside him.

  Perhaps Catherine couldn't. Just as Elspeth couldn't. Perhaps it was all too delicate, in a way Elspeth didn't quite grasp.

  Or perhaps Elspeth loved Catherine too much to think anything else.

  They entered the courtyard, and even the sight of four horses made Elspeth's stomach tie into knots.

  She walked with Nostradamus until the guards halted, glancing at her.

  "Thank you," Elspeth breathed out, caring very little for the impatient stares of every man present, "You gave me hope when I had none left of my own."

  Nostradamus looked down at her, a girl he hadn't known for very long, weeping for him.

  "Leave. You should not watch this."

  Elspeth bit her bottom lip as it began to quiver. She did not want to watch it. Watching a man be drawn and quartered was horrific; watching her friend be drawn and quartered was a living nightmare. And she knew if she saw it, the image would be burned on the insides of her eyelids for the rest of her life.

  She'd always remember him like that.

  "I'll close my eyes," Elspeth finally whispered, "But I want you to know you have a friend with you."

  His expression flickered to a sort of tender sorrow as the guards finally yanked him on, forcing him to the center of the courtyard.

  Few people cared about him beyond his visions or talent in healing.

  But Elspeth Liens called him a friend and vowed to be there until the very end.

  His eyes stayed on her as guards bound his arms and legs, watching the girl cry and speak softly.

  She was praying for him.

  "Elspeth. I should not be surprised you're here."

  Elspeth Liens did not let her prayer falter as Narcisse spoke up. She focused solely on Nostradamus, her hands clasped in front of her, tears stinging her tender skin.

  "Leave her be."

  She did, however, glance up as Louis approached. He gave her a sympathetic glance, joining her side.

  "Conde," Narcisse greeted, "Where are the royals?"

  "I suppose they've chosen to look the other way," Louis said regretfully, "Someone must bear witness to this travesty. Innocent men shouldn't die alone. You won't die alone."

  Elspeth clasped her hands tighter as if this would make her prayers stronger. She pleaded for his safety. For the act to stop now; for the ropes to snap before his bones did, for the horses to tire out too quickly.

  "I'm surprised Langlois is not here with his darling--"

  "Lord Langlois."

  Narcisse glanced at Elspeth, who still stared ahead with her hands clasped at her chest.

  "It would do you well to learn respect, Lord Narcisse," Elspeth said softly, "Men without honor often find themselves opposed to many."

  Narcisse almost laughed. In his eyes, Elspeth Liens was a mere speck. She wasn't even born in France; yes, perhaps she had a title, and the backing of the only noble that rivaled even him, but she held no real power. Not here. Not against him.

  But, of course, Lord Narcisse did not know Elspeth Liens.

  "Do you know why they wrap the bindings all up the arms and legs?" He questioned, glancing at the girl and Conde, "For a good, clean break. I've seen it done the other way, too. With bonds at the wrists and ankles taking off just the hands and feet. You bleed to death as the one horse takes the lead and drags you behind."

  Elspeth felt bile rise as he described it. She'd never been able to stomach an execution; refusing to attend any of them.

  And now she'd seen far too much death. She'd seen precious Aylee's last moments, seen Sebastian kill a man in the Blood Wood for knowing who he was, and cut down the guards meant to kill them. Elspeth had seen Henry become fatally injured at the joust.

  And she'd had nightmares about Hans. Nightmares where he was not the smiling big brother; but a horrified man covered in the plague.

  The last thing she wished for was to see Nostradamus be pulled apart.

  "Are you sure you want to see this?"

  She looked up at Louis as if he read her mind.

  "I plan on closing my eyes," She said quietly, tears still falling, albeit a bit slower now, "I just can't leave him. . . no one else even visited him, save for Catherine. . . but even they fought in perhaps their last moments together. . . he is a good man. A kind one, who has helped so many here. . . he does not deserve to be discarded like this."

  Elspeth could tell by his reaction that Louis was more similar to her than most nobles. Because he was wearing an expression of grief. One of compassion. A thing very few nobles ever even felt.

  "Which do you think will be more painful?"

  She looked away from Louis, back to Narcisse as he approached Nostradamus and spoke.

  "Your death or my sons?"

  "I've seen your death," Nostradamus said weakly, "You'll suffer, too."

  "And I have seen the suffering on every inch of my son's corpse. I will think of him as you die. You do the same."

  "Perhaps your son's death was retribution for your sins."

  Narcisse's head snapped up as Elspeth spoke.

  "I wonder how you will pay for this."

  Her voice was so soft it was shocking the words she had spoken. Narcisse could not manage to hide his anger, even as she bowed her head and brought her clasped hands to her chin.

  He would have to deal with her, Narcisse thought. This girl who thought she held the power to speak the way she did. This girl who had no idea the depths she was plunging into with every poke she prodded.

  But his attention was drawn back as the riders mounted their horses.

  Elspeth sucked in a breath as the men prepared, the ropes tightening. Nostradamus was already screaming, being pulled four ways, with no slack left.

  Her eyes were closed. She felt like a coward but knew she couldn't bear it.

  "On my signal," One of the guards shouted, "Spur your horses!"

  Elspeth whispered another prayer, and with time running low, she made it to someone else.

  She prayed to her brother.

  "No, stop! Riders, dismount. Rein in your horses, now."

  Elspeth's eyes snapped open at Mary's voice.

  "Even a queen needs grounds."

  "Unbind him. There will be no execution today."

  Elspeth breathed out, rushing forward. The men were cutting the ropes, and Nostradamus was clearly in pain from the brief moment.

  She fell to her knees, tugging the binds off of his arms quickly.

  "You need to rest," She said quickly, attempting to wipe at her tears as she helped unbind him, "I can help you, you'll only have to tell me what medicines you need and--"

  "I must leave."

  Elspeth's tears started up again but she nodded. Without saying anything she nodded, attempting to help him stand.

  "Elspeth--"

  "I will help you," She whispered, forcing herself under his arm, forcing herself to hold him up, "I will help you."

  She swatted off every guard that tried to close in on them. Batted them off like horseflies on a ride.

  And she walked forward. Slowly, at whatever pace he needed, with his arm thrown around her shoulders, his body leaning on hers that was nearly a foot shorter.

  Elspeth stared through Narcisse. His jaw clenched, but her eyes never left his.

  Until she passed by entirely and kept on walking.

  Mary met Elspeth and Nostradamus moments after the girl had helped him mount a horse.

  "Liens, L-I-E-N-S," Elspeth repeated for the fourth time, "Tell them I sent you and you will be well cared for in the Duchy."

  Nostradamus didn't have the heart to tell her he wasn't sure he could seek her family out. It was too high of a chance that he would be found there.

  "Okay," He said tiredly, "Thank you, Elspeth."

  She smiled weakly, patting his horse's neck.

  "Selfishly, I hope one day I will see you again," She said, "Perhaps you'll be gray and old by then."

  "Only if I am lucky."

  Elspeth smiled, taking a step back.

  "Ride safely, my friend."

  Another tear fell as Nostradamus took off, into the inky black night with nothing by a small pack Mary had thrown together quickly.

  "I didn't know you cared for him."

  "He housed me when Sebastian and I first returned from exile," Elspeth explained, wiping her tears as they came, "He mended me the night Kenna and Sebastian were wed. . . Some connections are smaller than others. That does not mean they carry any less weight."

  Mary studied her for a moment. Both her attempt at hiding her tears, and the words she had said so plainly.

  She had known it for a while, but now it was staring her in the face.

  Mary missed Elspeth Liens dearly. And she wondered if she could ever mend the bond that had been broken.

  "I should find Demetre," Elspeth said, letting out a breath and attempting to steel her emotions, "No doubt he was a part of your plan?"

  Mary smiled, nodding, "Of course. He is always at Francis's ear. . . sometimes, I forget they are not brothers."

  "Perhaps they are, in every meaning except by blood."

  "Yes, perhaps."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
adding to the list of songs that
remind me of Elspeth:
The View Between Villages by Noah Kahan
specifically for these lines
" I am not scared of death, I've got dreams again"
". . . It's all washing over me, I'm angry again.
The things that I lost here, the people I knew,
they got me surrounded for a mile or two. . ."
She's so Noah Kahan,
Taylor Swift, Hozier, Mitski
to me... anyway if you guys have any songs
that Ellie or this story make you think of
please share!!!