𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter forty-two; The Great Hugo Laurent
" I don't think I've ever met someone who wasn't important. "

ELSPETH HAD NOT slept well at all, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Her mind was too busy, and an invitation for a walk with Lord Landon hadn't helped.

She felt guilty for denying it, but Elspeth knew it would only worsen her state. So instead, she elected to spend the morning with her friends.

"How are you, Ellie?"

Her head snapped up at Kenna's voice, her fork clattering onto the plate in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," Elspeth said quickly, attempting to maintain a calmer exterior than she was, "I'm alright. It's quite cold, so I figure I might spend the day painting."

Greer and Kenna leaned forward in sync, making Elspeth pull away.

"Why are you two looking at me like that?"

"Because your head has been somewhere else all morning," Lola supplied, "You didn't even speak up when Greer talked about her father's meeting with Castleroy."

"Oh, Greer, I'm so sorry--"

"I don't care, I can tell you again later," Greer waved, "I'm more concerned about you."

Elspeth sighed, looking down at her plate for a moment.

"I'm worried about Demetre," She admitted, pushing the food around with her fork, "About his safety."

"Of course," Kenna said softly.

"But. . . the other thing is. . . when I said goodbye to him it just felt. . ."

All three ladies leaned closer.

"Different."

"Different how?"

"Like, romantic?"

"Oh, Ellie, this is wonderful!"

"Slow down," Elspeth said quickly, looking back up at the women, "Not. . . nothing like a love proclamation, just. . . I don't know. It felt more intimate."

Kenna raised a brow as she grinned.

"Oh, dear," Elspeth groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"If you have feelings for him--"

"I don't know if I do," Elspeth said quickly as Lola spoke, "I don't know what I feel. . . and even then, I don't know what he feels."

She was met with deadpan stares.

"He's in love with you," Kenna almost laughed.

"But--"

"No," Kenna said quickly, "Ellie, he is in love with you. I think he has been for a long time, too. What he said the other day made it crystal clear."

Elspeth deeply regretted telling Kenna about her and Demetre's conversation when he had pulled her away from their snowball fight.

"But I'm hardly the woman I used to be," Elspeth said, "I've changed so much since we met. Both me and my reputation. . . I'm not as strong. Suddenly I'm chasing men and crying when they leave for war."

"There is nothing wrong with that," Greer said softly, "I know you fought your title for a long time, and the roles so often placed on us. . . but you can be strong, you can read and write and fight with swords and ride horses, while also wanting romance, Elspeth."

Elspeth pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair.

"But what if I am not what he deserves?"

"That's for him to decide now, isn't it?" Greer questioned gently, resting a hand atop Elspeth's.

  The woman herself chewed the inside of her cheek. Unsure of it all.

"And what if I do have feelings for him? What if I do, and he reciprocates them, and it ends up. . ." Elspeth trailed off, looking to her lap for a moment, "What if it falls apart anyway and I lose him entirely?"

  It was Kenna's turn to speak. She knew what Elspeth was saying without speaking the words, and Kenna knew it was for her own sake.

  "Henry and Mary do not have the same power over Demetre that they do over Sebastian," Kenna said, "Demetre has ordered Henry, not the other way around. . . if there's anyone that is safe from it, it's him."

  Elspeth's face showed her emotions. The fear, the insecurity, the heartache. She was a girl who had been broken and beaten down and was almost too scared to try again.

  But she remembered what Nostradamus had said. If Elspeth wanted a life with a husband and a family, she could not shut herself off to love. She had to let herself feel it; even if it hurt. Even if it was terrifying and confusing, she couldn't block herself off.

"Perhaps you should think on it," Kenna suggested after a long moment, "So that when he returns, you can talk."

"And say what?" Elspeth almost laughed, "Either proclaiming my love or telling him I don't want us to be more than we are now-- both sound so strange."

"Ellie, you have never wanted to follow the formality of courtship before. If you spend your time without him and discover you do love him. . . then yes," Kenna urged, "You tell him so when he returns."

Elspeth blew out a long breath. It felt so. . . daunting.

It never had before. With any crush she had in Scotland, or even with Sebastian. It was always so easy. So simple.

But everything with Demetre was complex. Heavy. He repelled anything simple; their relationship had always been a heavy web of situations and emotions. And Elspeth liked that, she liked that things weren't shallow, that anytime she tried to placate Demetre with an easy answer he shoved right past it and asked for the truth.

He wanted the complexities. The good and the bad, the truth even if it hurt. Even if it was hard to say.

"Okay," She finally whispered, "Alright."

Kenna squealed eagerly.

"Alright," Elspeth waved, "Greer, I want to hear about your father and Castleroy."

"It feels rather boring in the face of this," Greer smiled.

"Nonsense, tell me."

"Well, alright. . ."

↬

Elspeth was feeling rather light after breakfast with Greer, Lola, and Kenna. They had a special way of doing that, making her feel stronger than she was. Making even scary situations brighter.

Which was why she was trying to paint a portrait of Hugo.

"Are you sure this is what you want to waste your paints on, my lady?"

Elspeth peered out from behind the canvas, glaring teasingly at the guard.

"Waste them?" She challenged, "This portrait is for Lord Langlois. He requested paintings when he returned."

"And you're going to give him one of me?" Hugo questioned, his face going red.

"Of course," Elspeth smiled.

Hugo blew out a series of breaths that, perhaps, were meant to be words.

But Elspeth kept on painting.

"Do you have a family, Hugo?"

She picked up a deep brown, swirling it with the slightest hint of red to paint his hair.

"Used to, my lady."

"Oh, just call me Elspeth," She breathed out, before her movements slowed, "You used to?"

Hugo hummed in agreement.

"May I ask what happened?"

"Of course," Hugo said, "I married the love of my life, and we had a beautiful little girl."

Elspeth tried to keep painting, but her heart twinged in guilt. She shouldn't have asked. It was terribly unthoughtful.

"Poppy," Hugo supplied, a smile gracing his plump features, "My wife grew pregnant again three years later. . . she died in childbirth. The babe died days later. . . complications, they told me."

"Hugo. . ."

"It's alright," Hugo waved gently, "I had a long time with my wife. Long enough to know we were made for each other. . . Poppy got ill when she was ten years of age. Passed from it, too."

Elspeth frowned deeply.

"Don't be sad, my lady," Hugo said softly, a smile still prevalent on his features. "I was, for a long, long time. I was sad and angry. . . but I know my girls wouldn't have wanted that. I started working for the House of Langlois a decade ago, and I've found my happiness. I know my girls watch over me, all three of them together, and they'll be there, waiting for me when it's my time. But for now, I'm happy. Being here, working for Lord Langlois. . . He looks out for us. All of us. Takes care of us more than a normal Lord would. . . he asked if it would be alright to assign me to watch over you. Worried it would stir up memories of my Poppy."

Elspeth took a seat, her heart aching terribly now.

"It does," Hugo smiled, letting out a laugh, "Chasing you through the castle. Bein' bribed for you to sneak out. . . it makes me happy."

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," He urged gently, "I've had a privilege few others get. I met the love of my life. I had a beautiful daughter. If I could go back, I wouldn't change a single thing. Not a thing."

Elspeth felt a tear run down her cheek, but she was smiling. Nodding.

Perhaps that was what Nostradamus had tried to impart with his vision. There were a million reasons for Elspeth to shut herself out to love, and every day she found a new one.

But the point of it was to love despite it all. To live even though it meant dying. To care even though it meant losing.

"You're my favorite guard, Hugo," Elspeth whispered, wiping the tears from her face.

"Oh, I'll make sure to tell Alex later," Hugo laughed.

Elspeth only smiled, picking up her paintbrush again and continuing on the portrait.

"This'll be hung in the Langlois's wing of the castle," Elspeth informed, "With a placard to tell everyone who it is."

Hugo only shook his head.

"The Great Hugo Laurent," She said dramatically.

"You see far too much in people who are not important at all, my lady."

"I don't think I've ever met someone who wasn't important," She said seriously, "And I already told you, call me Elspeth."

Hugo only smiled and continued sitting for his portrait.

It was peaceful there. Elspeth painted him and they spoke sparsely and laughed often.

She figured this was at least one piece of the puzzle solved. Elspeth knew if this was her life, being surrounded by people like Hugo, painting silly portraits, and hearing stories, she wouldn't mind it.

She wouldn't mind remaining Elspeth Liens of the House of Langlois.

"Elspeth."

Hugo jolted to his feet, bowing deeply at Mary's abrupt entrance.

"Hugo, it's alright," Elspeth said gently, standing herself, "Mary, I can't say I expected a visit."

Mary wrung her hands as Elspeth faced her. Suddenly, all the nerves she had worked up dissipated. Like she was back at that church, with Elspeth staring straight through her.

"Yes, I wanted to speak with you on an urgent matter," Mary finally forced her mouth to move.

Elspeth stared expectantly.

"Privately."

"This is private," Elspeth furrowed her brows.

Mary glanced at Hugo, who had retaken his seat.

"Hugo is my guard and my friend," Elspeth said, "I'm hardly going to dismiss him just because you decide to speak with me after months of silence."

"Elspeth, please. . . it's concerning my mother. It's concerning Scotland."

Elspeth sucked in a deep breath.

She didn't want to push Mary away. She never wanted to. But Elspeth knew she'd never be able to forgive her for what she had done.

"Five minutes is all I can spare," Elspeth said tightly, looking at Hugo, "I'm terribly sorry, Hugo. Will you step outside, just for a moment?"

"Never apologize, my lady," Hugo said, standing, "Call for me if you need a thing."

Elspeth offered him a warm smile, watching him exit the room and shut the door behind himself.

Only then did her eyes return to Mary.

"I know rebels have arrived at the castle," Elspeth said, "I also know your uncle's army was meant for it before Henry decided he needed to conquer Calais."

"I take it your brother has been writing you."

"Where my information comes from does not matter," Elspeth brushed off, "I also know my family can do nothing to assist without risking their own Duchy."

"There will be no Duchy if Scotland falls."

"There will be no people in our Duchy if they reach out in support and rebel troops march on it," Elspeth bit back, "Your duty is to rule Scotland, it is your mother's duty in your stead. My father's duty is to rule his Duchy. He is not the King of Scotland, Mary."

"My mother needs money to escape."

"The money your mother needs would be inconsequential to a royal," Elspeth noted, "I have already stated my family cannot assist her without risking themselves."

Mary looked panicked.

"Have it sent secretly, have it--"

"Why not ask Catherine for help?" Elspeth cut off, "She is your family, now. And she had a friendship with Marie De Guise years ago. She is kinder than you credit her--"

"She has already denied."

"Oh. I see."

Mary pursed her lips.

"I can write my father, but I am telling you, I hardly expect his stance will change," Elspeth sighed tiredly, "Not to mention the weeks it will take for our correspondence. Be sure this is what you want to count on before I write him, Mary."

"Your family has always been loyal."

"They continue to be. Until they risk their safety as well as their people."

Mary sighed, turning away.

She hated that Elspeth was right. Hated that there wasn't another argument to make. Hated that Catherine had shot down the idea before Mary even came to speak with her.

"I will find another way."

Elspeth raised a brow.

"A moral way?"

"My moral options have run out."

"Then make that choice carefully, Mary. It will change you."

Mary craned her neck, looking at Elspeth carefully.

She wondered what it was like to have so much freedom. To not have the weight of nations on one's shoulders. Mary wondered if Elspeth still carried the weight of losing Sebastian.

She had seen Elspeth sending off Demetre and Francis. Seen the closeness. The friendship with her own husband, and the intimacy with the Hunter of the Grim. The man who had never appeared anything other than cold and cruel to Mary herself.

"What would you do?"

"We have led different lives."

" . . . What would you do?" Mary said, turning to face Elspeth, "If rebels marched on your Duchy instead of the Scottish castle?"

Elspeth pursed her lips.

It would sound cruel, and she knew it would. But Mary needed this truth.

"My family has incited trust and loyalty to their duchy and their army. I have built relations to strong people in France."

Mary's expression flickered.

"The Duchy would fight for their Duke and Duchess," Elspeth said softly, "And I would ask Catherine De Medici and Demetre Langlois to send aid to them. And they would."

"Are you so sure that Catherine and Demetre would help? Help Scotland, not just you?"

"They would help me," Elspeth nodded, "That would be helping me. . . There is loyalty between me and them. It flows both ways. I am sure they would help because I know I would help them. Because I have stood by them. Because I have built relationships with both of them that go beyond what we can simply do for each other."

Mary stared blankly.

"I cannot help you. I am sorry."

Elspeth walked around Mary, opening the door and inviting Hugo to return.

But Mary stood still. Entirely motionless. She watched Hugo claim his seat once again and Elspeth pick up her brush.

She wanted to be angry. But she couldn't find it in her. Because Elspeth may have been right, she had inspired relationships with people who would be loyal to her and no one else.

But Mary was a queen. She had more pull, more power.

This was simply a difference in them.

So Mary left without another word, taking yet another step away from the girl Elspeth had known as a child.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
LOTS happening without
Demetre in the castle LOL