𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter twenty-one; The Queen's Favorite
" A brief display of power, but a display nonetheless. "

"SHE IS PLOTTING, Petal."

"I know."

Demetre raised a brow at her words and her unflinching nature.

Elspeth hadn't lied entirely when excusing herself from Mary's presence. After stopping by her bedchambers to switch her dress for one just as plain, but in better condition, she sought out Demetre Langlois.

But he was not helping her prepare for anything. He was watching her paint. Or try to paint. All she managed to do was smear colors around the canvas, barely starting a legible shape before covering it and starting anew.

"Have you visited him yet?"

Elspeth faltered, her paintbrush hovering over the canvas.

"I do not know if I could."

"Why?"

"Because if I do, I might just go through with it all."

Demetre noted her hand shaking as she set the brush down, but he did not move. He did not rush or pressure her. He only waited.

"If I see him, speak to him," She said quietly, "I will be reminded as to why I started loving him in the first place."

Elspeth finally turned to the man, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she took a seat on the ground, her dress and apron pooling around her.

"I still want to marry him," Elspeth admitted sadly, "He is still the man I love. . . But you're right. I. . . I will not be happy as his mistress. I would only ever be happy as his wife."

Demetre stood from his chair, standing over Elspeth for a moment. She peered up at him as a single tear fell, and that was when Demetre slowly sunk to a knee, leaning closer to the woman.

"So tell him that," He whispered, "Tell him if he is to hold a crown and country, he cannot have you. Even if you do not hate him for it, you cannot remain at his side. Even if you may want to."

Elspeth's lip quivered at the idea.

"And tell him if Henry's attempt to legitimize him fails, and he is not set to be the next King of France," Demetre continued, "That you wish to pick up where you left off."

"That. . . that does not seem fair."

"If it is something you can live with, it is fair. What's not fair is forcing you into this situation. This choice. It is not fair, Petal."

She reached up to wipe her tears, sniffling as she did.

It felt like no matter what she did, she was to lose. Elspeth had never wanted to be selfish-- but it was unfair. She was engaged to Sebastian. She had fallen in love with him. How was it so easy for some politics to steal this from her? How dare they-- how dare they take that away?

"I'll speak to him right now," Elspeth said quickly, gathering her skirt and standing.

"The apron," Demetre smiled small.

Elspeth blushed, huffing as she turned.

Demetre did not lose his smile as he untied the cloth for her, watching the woman pull it over her head and hang it on the easel.

"Off you go then, ready to face him?"

Elspeth turned to Demetre, her fingers knitting together.

"Perhaps you could escort me," She said after a moment, "Only if you aren't busy with other duties."

Demetre just held out an arm, one Elspeth took without a second question.

He saw her heartbreak all over again when they reached Sebastian's quarters and were informed he'd departed for a short ride.

Demetre Langlois was starting to struggle in hiding his aversion to Sebastian.

He hadn't had an issue with the man whilst he was doting on Elspeth. While Sebastian was caring for her and recognizing the woman he had somehow found himself engaged to-- but now. Now, treating her like this, taking the offer-- one built on prophecy of all things-- Demetre could hardly stomach it.

"I'll tell him when he returns," Elspeth said quietly as they began the long stroll back to the art wing, "I will."

"I know," Demetre breathed, patting her hand, "In the meantime, we could paint. Go for a ride of our own. We could bother the kitchen for some sweets."

Elspeth shook her head. She didn't want to do much of anything.

"Then let us pay Catherine another visit," He sighed, "She's cross I haven't come sooner."

"Alright, then."

Demetre led the woman back to Catherine's tower without another word. He slowed as she did, hearing Catherine's voice echoing down the hallway-- Kenna, Greer, and Lola were paying the queen a visit.

And each was receiving rather pointed commentary on their situations.

Elspeth started her stride again as she heard Lola warning Catherine they were the only people allowed to see her.

"So you're the strong one, are you also the smart one, Lola?" Catherine said, "If so, you'd know, you've already let your queen down. You three coming here tells me she's not in the castle, otherwise, she'd have delivered this message. It also tells me she's probably off helping that bastard and his escaped lover."

Catherine's eyes darted to the doorway just as Elspeth entered with Demetre in tow.

"And my favorite one of all," Catherine breathed, "Elspeth. Your only fault is your infatuation with the bastard himself. You could do so much, my dear."

Elspeth peered around the room-- it had been entirely emptied since her visit only that morning. She glanced at the three ladies, who seemed shocked at her entrance.

"The one good thing that came out of all of that is your official recognition as a French citizen," Catherine sighed.

"Even Elspeth wouldn't remain at your side after your hand in every plot against Bash," Lola said brazenly, stepping forward.

"Is that so?" Catherine questioned.

Elspeth tilted her head, staring at Catherine for a long moment. She could tell it was meant to be a show of power-- Catherine had not used their relationship to her advantage until now.

But Elspeth knew Catherine was a queen backed into a corner. And she knew Catherine cared for her, despite everything else.

"You three may take your leave," Elspeth said quietly, her eyes never leaving Catherine, "I will ensure no one else comes or goes."

"Elspeth. . ." Greer said quietly, "The regent ordered--"

"Sebastian, you mean?" Elspeth said, finally turning her head toward the ladies, "Yes, please tell him I defied an order the moment he returns from his outing with Mary."

All three ladies faltered. Even Kenna.

Because Elspeth didn't look like Elspeth. She wasn't the kind and wild girl they had grown up with. She was. . . empty. And cold. Void of the life that so often swallowed her whole.

"Call for me if you need anything, Ellie," Kenna said quietly, "Please."

Elspeth nodded, watching as Kenna departed, with Greer and Lola not far behind.

"A brief display of power, but a display nonetheless."

Elspeth returned her gaze to Catherine.

"Leave him," Catherine breathed out, "If nothing else will change his mind, that will."

"If you have him killed I will never forgive you."

Catherine faltered. And Demetre saw it.

"Elspeth, you could be so much more than just a mistress--"

"I intend to tell Sebastian that I cannot take that place," Elspeth finally said, "I will be his wife or I will be nothing. But it has nothing to do with you. I respect you, Catherine, and more than that, I care for you. Please, I beg you, do not make me regret this."

Catherine exhaled, squaring her shoulders as she stared at an almost defeated Elspeth Liens.

"Demetre, take care of her, will you? Let those girls come and torment me so she may rest."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Demetre bowed his head, holding out an arm for Elspeth. She accepted it without another word and allowed Demetre to lead her away once again as if he were her guiding light for the day.

↬

Sebastian and Mary returned the day following. Elspeth was in her bedchambers, staring at a sparkling Parisian gown Demetre had sent for her as if it held the answers she searched for.

Elspeth frowned at it, instead choosing to rifle through one of her almost untouched trunks and select another plain gown. She knew her mother would question her choices-- if any time, it would be now to wear the gowns adorned with details and lace, now would be the time to donn her heirloom jewels and best rouge on her cheeks.

But Elspeth found solace in the plain dress. In her hair simply falling down her spine, with no braids or pins or flowers in it at all. She found some comfortability in pretending like she was a child again, running around her family's duchy in Scotland dressed in the clothes of a commoner only because her mother knew she would ruin them before dinner.

"Elspeth," Mary greeted, entering the room, "I'm sorry I have not found you sooner."

"That's alright," Elspeth said quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror, "You have been busy."

Mary approached the woman silently, noting her appearance. Elspeth was someone who looked graceful without trying. Someone who wore her title well.

It was strange seeing her in a plain gown with no color on her face.

"Did you know. . . did you know what Bash has family members. . . that are Pagan?"

Elspeth met Mary's gaze in the mirror.

"I know quite a lot about the man I was set to marry."

And all at once Mary felt it. The guilt, the embarrassment-- she felt like she had barged into a room that was not her own only to realize it was already occupied. She finally felt what she had done. Stampeding into the center of a relationship.

Not that either Mary or Sebastian had acted as anything other than friends. Sebastian had made it perfectly clear he had no intention of romancing Mary while his heart belonged with Elspeth.

But Mary had broken into their relationship nonetheless.

"I do not wish to force this on anyone."

"What choice did you give us?" Elspeth breathed, turning to face Mary, "Francis would die if you wed him. Bash would die if you did not lay claim to the English throne for Henry. The King has but two sons, the options were limited."

  Mary blinked back tears as her friend stared blankly at her.

  "Do what you will," Elspeth said, "I will live, one way or another. Now, excuse me, I need to have a word with the Regent."

Sebastian De Poitiers was ill-prepared for Elspeth Liens.

She entered his chambers with disregard to the guards outside— the man attempted to apologize but Sebastian waved him off as Elspeth entered the room, glancing around it before her eyes set on his.

"You look beautiful."

"I'm plainer than a stable hand."

"And, yet, you are still beautiful."

She stared up at him as he closed the gap between them. Sebastian knew a rift had started and grown since the last he had seen her. He knew it.

"I cannot be your mistress."

His face fell slightly, but in a way that showed he knew it was coming. As if it was a question of 'when' not 'if' this would come.

"I love you, Sebastian," She breathed, "I cannot love you if you marry another."

"Mary and I are not--"

"It does not matter," Elspeth cut him off, "Whether you are friends or lovers or simply two people ruling side by side; I cannot love you while knowing you have to bed another woman. I cannot love you knowing a. . . simple walk with you has to be scheduled out days in advance and flocked by soldiers. I cannot love you knowing our relationship would always come second, or third, to everything else. I cannot love you with the title of 'the other woman', Sebastian. I want to love you without any rules."

Sebastian's mouth dipped into a frown, his brows furrowing at the pain and passion in her voice.

He understood it. And that is why it hurt so much.

"I want the same, Elspeth. I do not want to be with anyone other than you, because anyone else pales in comparison. You are the woman that I love. The only one."

Elspeth was attempting to keep the same ferocity she had after Demetre's talk, but it was faltering. In the face of losing the first man she had ever truly loved, her hastily made armor was cracking, piece by piece. And she needed to make the choice, the one she knew was best for her before she couldn't do it.

"I cannot do this," She said, shaking her head as a lump formed in her throat, "I want all of you or none of you."

"Then I will not become the King of France- I have to—"

"Think of the lives at stake," Elspeth whispered, unable to hold back her tears.

"I am thinking of our lives," Sebastian whispered, his voice laced with pain as he grabbed her hands in his own.

"I cannot be happy like this," She said finally, "I love you too dearly to share you, Sebastian. I cannot be with you, knowing you will have to lie with another woman-"

"Elle—"

"My heart cannot take it."

Sebastian faltered, lifting a hand to cup her face. One he had come to love and adore, to ache for when it was out of sight.

He loved her more than he thought anyone could love another person.

"We do not know yet if I am even able to be legitimized, Elle."

"I cannot sit around and wait, wondering when I will see you next," Elspeth whispered, "Wondering if you will be taken from me. I cannot bear it, Sebastian."

And although it pained him more than any injury he'd ever sustained, Sebastian did not want to argue with her.

If it was only going to cause her pain, he did not wish for it.

So he rested his forehead against her own, inhaling the floral perfume that floated around her.

"If this does not work," He said finally, voice breaking, "Will you come back to me?"

And for a moment, Elspeth allowed herself to be selfish.

"I hope for nothing more," She whispered, "Truly, Sebastian."

And then Elspeth pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, before departing in the direction from which she'd come.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
writing sad elspeth makes me :(
but also girlie needs to remember the
energy she came to france with!!