𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter seven; Love And A Hard Place
" Defiance to love will be your downfall. "

  KENNA HAD TAKEN advantage of Elspeth knowing of her escapades with the King. As the two readied themselves for the night's function, Kenna explained how Henry wanted her, fully, and how hesitant she was to give her virtue so easily.

  "You know I'll just tell you to be careful," Elspeth spoke, setting down the brush used to apply rouge to her lips, "If Henry wants to give you things— security, safety, support— well, there's no better man than a King. But, Kenna. . . he does already have a mistress."

  "I know. . ."

  "And, if Henry aims to replace Diane, you have to think of her and Sebastian—"

  "Okay, Ellie," Kenna sighed, pressing her eyes tightly closed.

  Elspeth frowned lightly, standing from her seat to where Kenna sat on her bed. The girl gently grabbed her friend's hands, making Kenna look up.

  "I don't mean to make your choice any more difficult, Kenna," Elspeth said honestly, "Perhaps we should just enjoy tonight's festivities and let this linger away from us?"

  "I quite like that idea."

  It seemed like a good one, on the surface. To escape the worries through good music and wine, but very quickly, Elspeth realized nothing may ever be calm in France.

  "Nostradamus," Henry's voice cut through the party like a freshly sharpened silver blade, making the music and chatter halt, "Why don't you share your wisdom with all of us?"

  "I don't understand," The man replied.

  "Always at my wife's ear. What do you whisper?"

  Elspeth watched the exchange from her table, seating the Scottish women. She had yet to meet the man the king spoke to but judged quickly he was important if Catherine held him in high regard.

  "I hear Emperor Maximilian has a seer in Prague who can. . . tell fortunes using playing cards. Tell the fortunes of Queen Mary and her ladies."

  "Forgive me, Your Majesty," Nostradamus knelt at the king's throne, "But I'm not skilled at cards and I don't control my visions. They come and go as they will."

  "You're not as good as Maximilian's seer?"

  "Leave him alone, Henry" Catherine intervened.

  "Oh, come, the man must have something to recommend him since you rely so deeply on his counsel. Hmm?"

  Catherine sighed and claimed her own throne as Nostradamus approached the table seating five ladies.

  "Each of you pick a card. Have your question ready."

  They followed instruction, though Elspeth had a blank mind when it came to a question. She wasn't fond of the idea of knowing her future— what was meant to pass shall, knowing and changing this would only be against the very laws of the world itself.

  "Will I ever love again?"

  Lola did not seem to agree with this perspective.

  "You'll meet a dark, handsome stranger, be wary of flattery," He told Lola, before looking to Mary who flipped her card over, "Life will serve many challenges, you'll meet them with grace."

  "Well, that's not very specific," Henry interrupted. "Give us a fortune, not a platitude. Or is that the best you can do?"

  And all at once, a look washed over Nostradamus's face. His eyes glossed over, holding the depths of the unknown, and Elspeth wished so deeply he'd take back what he would say next.

  "The lion will fight the dragon on the field of poppies."

  "What?" Mary questioned.

  "The lion will fight the dragon on the field of poppies."

  "Uh. . ." Greer began, placing her own card down, "Who will I. . ."

  "You will fall in love with a man with a white mark on his face."

  "When will I see my family?" Aylee asked.

  "You'll never go home."

  "What do you mean 'never go home'?"

  "That's all I was given, you know no more than I."

  And then he looked to Elspeth. A poised girl with hair falling down in heavenly locks and a face void of emotion. But he could see through it. He could see the fear, the desires, the homesick feeling. He could see the loneliness and the emptiness and every single thing she'd ever tried to fill that void with.

  And without a question, he told her a fortune.

  "Defiance to love will be your downfall."

  Mary rested a hand on Elspeth's arm, but the woman did not show a single sign that the touch had registered to her.

  Defiance to love. Wanting to be free. Refusing a man controlled her.

  The very core of Elspeth's mind, the over-arching reason why she lived the way she did, it would be the same thing that took her down.

  "Well," Henry spoke, "There's a showman for you."

  "Musicians, dancing music. Enough of this foolishness."

  And with the queen's words, music resumed and dancing continued and Mary left her ladies to corner Nostradomous, and Elspeth Leins pretended to push her worries out with a light sigh.

  "Elle," Lola gently pulled Elspeth from her daze, "I believe Bash is trying to catch your attention."

  Elspeth followed Lola's eyes to a lone Sebastian De Poitiers, standing on the outskirts of the party with two goblets— he smiled weakly when she met his gaze, and she reciprocated this.

  "Excuse me," Elspeth spoke, though it came out a whisper, as she stood from the table and weaved through dancers to find the man.

  "Well, that was quite the act," Sebastian attempted, holding out the wine, "Are you alright?"

  She nodded with a closed-lip smile, sipping the wine and joining his side, watching Mary depart from Nostradamus to dance with Francis.

  "Something's wrong," Sebastian urged gently, "You can always speak freely with me, Elspeth. I'll always have time for your words."

  Elspeth let her fingers gently trace the decorations on the goblet. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Sebastian every part of her hesitance to love when she thought very well he could be the one to change everything.

  "It didn't feel like an act," Elspeth finally spoke, "My 'fortune', I suppose. It felt too real to be a simple trick."

  "He's meant to scare you," The man assured, "Always at Catherine's ear, I don't find it surprising that she'd tell him to frighten you all."

  "But that's the strangest thing. Catherine did not want him to do what he did, Henry did. And, perhaps it's a bit selfish of me to say, but I hardly think Catherine could know my biggest fear, and even so, she wouldn't want to scare. . . me."

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

  "I believe she likes having someone on her side," Elspeth explained, glancing over to the queen, "I've not done anything to be out of her good graces quite yet."

  "Still," Sebastian spoke gently, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold her, "Do not let it frighten you."

  "And why is that, Sebastian?"

  "Well, you haven't quite tried to run away from what's between us."

  Elspeth was at a loss for words, and luckily a new distraction intervened before she had to respond. Tomas had inserted himself into the soon-to-be couple's dance, leaning closely to speak with Mary. Francis stepped back, turning to Sebastian who gave him a confused sort of look, as the music quickly turned into something less than familiar.

  Francis joined Elspeth and Sebastian on the outskirts as Mary stood shocked in front of Tomas.

  "What's going on?" Elspeth questioned quietly.

  "Your guess is as good as mine," Francis mumbled.

  The trio stood shocked as Tomas quickly pulled Mary into a rather scandalous dance, as all the guests stood astonished. The music slowed to a clear end, and the crowd gasped as Tomas dipped Mary— even Elspeth Liens believed they very well might kiss.

  "Why don't you dance like that?"

  "Shut up."

  Elspeth quickly left the brothers, who watched closely as she hurriedly caught Mary.

  "What was that?"

  "It's a very long story," Mary whispered, clearly exasperated, "Greer's leaving, I have to speak with her—"

  "Go," Elspeth urged, "You owe me no explanation, Mary. I will always defend your actions, as your friend."

  And in that moment Mary couldn't be thankful for anything but a friend. That Elspeth, despite knowing she was a lady, only in France to serve her queen, still treated Mary like a childhood friend. Still defended her against anything, whether she was in the right or wrong or someplace in between.

  How wonderful and rare it was to have such a loyal friend.

↬

  The party moved to the lawn of the castle. Elspeth mingled about, deciding making roots in France wasn't such a bad idea, considering she could very well spend the rest of her life there. But, her brief chat was interrupted by a familiar face.

  "Ah, Lady Elspeth, Rose," Demetre greeted, smiling at the two women.

  They curtsied respectfully.

  "May I steal Elspeth?" He questioned.

  "Of course—"

  "Wonderful," He grinned, holding out a hand. Elspeth seemed reluctant, but gently placed her hand in his and allowed him to whisk her away, "You and Bash are growing close, Little Petal, dangerously close."

  "Little Petal?"

  "Ah, you always seem to have. . . flowers in your hair," Demetre mumbled gently adjusting the crown of flowers that rested on Elspeth's golden hair, "So, do you intend to marry him?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Sebastian—"

  "I hardly know him," Elspeth quickly spoke, "I'm not. . . I can't. . . look, I'm not on a time limit like some ladies are. My family is well off— we have land, money, a title. . . I need nothing. My parents only wish me to marry for love."

  Demetre raised an eyebrow.

  "So, I do not intend to think of marriage until I know I am in love."

  "And how does one know?"

  "You just. . . do," Elspeth sighed, shaking her head, "I suppose it consumes you. Wherever you go, with or without them, you feel their love. Like a cloud of perfume, always hanging over you. Or the warmth of the sun on an afternoon walk, it touches every part of you."

  Demetre nodded, looking around briefly.

  "Well, I certainly did not come to chat about love, Elspeth."

  "Alright."

  "I simply came to ask whether or not I should be worried that Bash and Kenna seem close."

  "What?"

  "Inside, watching the party through a window," He shrugged, "Sharing a drink. . . but, if you don't love him—"

  "You're playing a game that I do not want to be a part of."

  "No games," Demetre spoke honestly, raising his hands in surrender, "No tricks. If you loved him. . . I simply wanted to let you know. As a friend."

  Elspeth fiddled with her fingers, attempting to push down the rising feeling in her stomach.

  "Could you just. . . tell me where they are?"

  Demetre pursed his lips and nodded, allowing Elspeth to follow him to the happily chatting duo.

  "Elle!"

  The girl laughed, walking closer as Demetre departed.

  She tried to remedy the jealousy of how close Kenna sat to Sebastian with the reminder that Kenna was her closest friend. She'd never do such a thing— and, after all, she was in pursuit of a king.

  "I figured you'd be in the center of that," Sebastian spoke, gesturing to the people beyond the window.

  "I was, for a bit," Elspeth smiled lightly, "But, I fear there is no fun without either of you."

  "Oh, you flatter us," Kenna laughed lightly, scooting over, "Come sit, drink."

  Elspeth could do nothing but grin as she sat in between the two, Sebastian's arm mindlessly coming to rest around her shoulders as Kenna passed her the bottle of alcohol.

  This was how it was meant to be, she supposed. To be right in between love and a hard place. To have the happy moments now and the worries later.

  Little did she know, a dark cloud loomed on the horizon, and moments of truth would come sooner rather than later.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
it's been a while! but we're back!
Hi!! I missed writing Elle and I missed
you guys!!