𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter fifty-eight; A Religious Spectacle
" But the world is not so black and white. "

  ELSPETH HAD CONTINUED frequent check-ins with Mary. They were mostly concerning Mary's health and mental state, but Mary was happy nonetheless. As happy as she could be, considering.

  She was attempting to focus on rekindling the friendship instead of on her lost child.

  This was exactly why Mary was pleased that Elspeth was postponing her and Demetre's trip to Scotland until after Greer and Castleroy's wedding.

  "It's spectacular, befitting a spectacular bride."

  "Truthfully, I would've preferred something simpler."

  The hall was already livened with decorations. Statues of exotic birds, golden detailing, and decorations from the walls and ceilings; it was extravagant.

  And Greer did not seem particularly fond of such decorations.

  "For your sake or for Leith's?" Kenna questioned.

  "Marrying Aloysius is enough, without flaunting all of this in his face."

  "Is that what Castleroy's doing?"

  "Goodness, no, it's my mother."

  The girls chuckled at the idea before an unfamiliar girl approached quickly. Greer waved off a concerned nanny, accepting the girl at her side.

  "This is Gemma," Greer said, a real smile falling on her features, "Aloysius' youngest. His children are here for the wedding."

  "And now they're you're children," Kenna said fondly.

  "Yes," Greer agreed, grabbing a hairpin from Gemma's hand, "I'll fix this for you. Oh, what pretty locks you have."

  "Thank you."

  Gemma hugged Greer, before departing back off with her nanny.

  "They seem quite taken with you."

  "Yes," Greer agreed, before seeing Mary's low mood, "Enough about me, how are you feeling?"

  "Let's just say your wedding is a welcome distraction."

↬

  "Mary called on me."

  Elspeth stood quickly at Demetre's abrupt entrance to her chambers.

  "She requested my presence in the throne room," Demetre informed, clasping his hands in front of him, "Some men are requesting an audience, Francis is indisposed, and in light of the attack on a Protestant service, I suppose she's hoping for some allies in case."

  Elspeth was quite shocked at his quick speech-- Demetre hardly got flustered, especially when it came to politics, so she was unsure of how to react.

  "We can have our walk later?" She suggested, slightly confused, furrowing her brows.

  "I appreciate the kindness, Petal," Demetre said, "But I came to ask if you'd be alright with me answering her summons."

  "Demetre, she is queen, and you are--"

  "I am on the King's council. I answer to Francis. And Mary has been well-informed about the history of House Langlois, including the freedoms that come with it. So I ask you again; should I go, or shall we walk?"

  Elspeth wasn't quite sure what to say. She never wanted to be a man's keeper, but she knew why he was asking, especially after their most recent conversation concerning Mary mere days ago.

  "Go," Elspeth breathed out, "If she's calling on you, she must need help. So go, and help her, and then return to me."

  Demetre nodded, stepping forward to kiss her temple before departing for his duties. And Elspeth Liens chose to keep herself busy, considering Hugo was in her company, she knew she could not become bored.

  "My lady, I fear I am not the best opponent for this game."

  Elspeth laughed as she kicked a ball to Hugo, who was already growing tired under the warm Spring sun.

  "We are not at odds in the game," She called back, catching the ball under her foot as he kicked in back, "But, because I am ever-gracious, we can take a break."

  Hugo let out a long breath, clearly relieved, as Elspeth wandered over to her picnic blanket. She took a seat, patting the blanket beside her for Hugo.

  "And quit calling me that! I told you already, just call me Elspeth," She said as he sat,  "Or Ellie."

  "After your meeting with Lord Narcisse, Lord Langlois thought it best we use proper titling when addressing you outside of the Langlois wing, my lady."

  Elspeth scowled, looking out at the water in front of them.

  "He is a loathsome man, and I can hardly believe he's allowed here," She said.

  "He is a noble."

  "A bothersome one with far too large of a head," Elspeth corrected.

  Hugo tried to stifle a laugh.

  "Truly, can Francis not just. . . strip him of his title, and replace him with someone more deserving?"

  "My lady, I believe you know the answer to that."

  Of course, Elspeth did. She understood very well why Francis, a king who had only just been crowned, couldn't strip a long-standing and well-respected noble of his title and discard him. The backlash would be only the beginning of the problems.

  "Well, yes, but can't a girl dream?"

  Hugo only smiled as the girl angrily pulled a grape from its fine, popping it into her mouth.

  "Would you like to paint today, my lady?"

  Elspeth's chewing slowed, the woman dusting off her hands as if to buy herself more time to answer the question.

  "Not today," She said after a long moment, "I'm enjoying the weather. Come, let us play again."

  Hugo winced but stood as she did.

  But after seeing her smile, Hugo pushed through his discomfort and continued kicking the ball.

  Until a bit later when Elspeth stopped the game to stretch a hand as high as she could and wave at someone in the distance.

  "Louis! Join us; I believe Hugo is tiring out before I have!"

  Elspeth's bright smile fell when Louis came closer, his fallen expression clear on her face.

  "I fear I am in low spirits after this morning, Elspeth," He said, "I apologize."

  The woman furrowed his brows as he attempted to continue past.

  "What's wrong?" She asked, quickly stepping in to match his pace, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  Louis glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, as if debating his choices.

  "I did not mean to interrupt your afternoon."

  "We're friends, you did not interrupt," She urged, "Can I help, Louis?"

  The man finally slowed to a halt, allowing Elspeth to step so she was in front of him. She noticed a slowly forming bruise on his tanned face, but kept her questions at bay.

  "My nephew was killed."

  "Louis. . ."

  "A Protestant mass was attacked. The building burned. Many were beaten, and my nephew Emile was murdered. . . The Catholics that did it are backed by Lord Narcisse. They brought a boy in, who is maimed beyond speech, claiming Emile attacked him days before, and this act was retribution."

  Elspeth's hand came up to cover her mouth.

  "I've searched the village already, nobody knows of this boy."

  "Do you think they knew Emile was your nephew?" She questioned quietly.

  He stared at her for a moment. A moment that felt like forever, as if he was picking her apart, trying to dissect the thoughts in her head.

  And then suddenly he pulled down the collar of his shirt, and before Elspeth could chastise him, she saw the mark he now bore.

  "Demetre mentioned what you and Sebastian were investigating," Elspeth said, her eyes glued to the mark until Louis allowed his shirt to cover it once again, "The Three Dark Riders?"

  "I met them the other night. Very unpleasant," Louis informed, "I assume you think I'm soulless now, possessed by the Devil? That's what this mark is supposed to mean."

  "Half of the world thinks the man I will marry is the Devil. If I went around believing everything I was told, I'd never have given him a chance."

  Louis's expression softened.

  "I was raised Catholic. By a Catholic family, in a Catholic country," Elspeth said plainly, "And yet, I think the idea of shaming others for how we worship the same God is damning them away from the very man they act behind. . . I do not care if you or your family are Protestants, Louis. You are my friend. And you lost a nephew. And Narcisse is involved again. You stood against him when my friend was to be executed. Now I will stand against him for you and your nephew."

  She reached out, grabbing his forearm.

  "There is no excuse for crude violence. I apologize for your loss, Louis. But I promise, I will help you get justice."

  For a brief moment, he looked almost at peace.

  "Petal!"

  Elspeth turned at the voice, Demetre and Mary crossing the lawn of the castle side by side.

  "Demetre," She called, hurrying to meet him halfway, "What will we do about Emile's murder?"

  The man let out an exasperated breath, glancing out at Louis.

  "Well, you have made a very good ally, Conde," Demetre called.

  "Demetre," Elspeth said, grabbing Demetre's hand, "It is unjust, not right--"

  "I know," He said calmly, lifting his hands to cup her face, "And I assure you, Francis and I are meeting about it shortly. We will set this right. With you on Emile's side, I have no doubt."

  Elspeth nodded, letting Demetre press a kiss to her forehead.

  "Excuse us," Demetre said, looking to Mary and Louis as Elspeth slipped a hand onto his arm, "The attackers are in the dungeons ready for questioning. I'll await your word on the method, Mary."

The queen nodded, thanking Demetre before he departed with Elspeth Liens.

"Narcisse is involved, I want you nowhere near this."

"Your protection is appreciated, but--"

"Petal, please."

She twisted her lips, sulking for a moment.

But she knew Demetre. And he knew her. And he would not ask that if there wasn't a good reason.

"He's putting pressure on Francis," Demetre said quietly, "The situation is already a complicated one. If it were just men attacking men, it would be simple, but the fact that religion has been introduced. . ."

"It is no excuse."

"I agree with you entirely, Elspeth. And yet we have a Catholic King. The Church grants Francis much of his power; and if he does not tread carefully, not only will he have to face them, but our country will become engulfed in the same riots and struggles others have. People cannot accept that others worship differently than themselves"

"But different worship does not harm them."

"Of course it does. It harms them because Catholicism is no longer the sole religion. With different kinds of churches and different reasoning behind actions; people easily accept those who are like them. Any difference is a reason to fight. A different title, a different class, a different religion. . . Most people believe they walk the best road, and the mere existence of other paths shakes them."

"But the world is not so black and white."

"It has only ever been shades of gray," Demetre agreed, slowing his pace. "Life happens in between extremes. You and I both know this. We both know that those Catholic men deserve to be punished for their crimes, not because they are Catholic, but because of their actions."

Demetre gently brushed the girl's hair behind her shoulders, smoothing down the few rebel strands.

"I hardly care if you are Protestant or Catholic-- you could be a Pagan and I would love you all the same."

Elspeth reached out a hand to hold his own.

"But if Narcisse hears your ideas; if he hears you are lead by compassion instead of the unspoken rules of nobility, he will take advantage of it."

". . . Are you scared of him?"

"There is no being I fear," He said so simply, Elspeth could hardly believe it, "No man, animal, or thing that scares me, Elspeth. . . the only thing I fear, is what I would do if something tried to come for what I love."

It had been so long since she saw the dark glint appear in his eyes, that it almost unnerved her.

But Elspeth remembered the monster inside of Demetre wasn't born as a monster. It was born of a boy who had lost everyone and everything, a boy who had to be cruel because he was never taught how to hold his sadness in his own two hands.

He held a monster in him, yes. His hands were capable of terrible things; he was the Monster of France.

But Elspeth Liens knew very well the Monster of France only ever appeared when Demetre Langlois wished to protect his own.

"Then I will avoid Narcisse," She agreed, squeezing his hand, "I will spend time with Greer before her wedding, I will stay with Hugo; I will stand back. But Louis is my friend. And his nephew was killed. And that cannot be ignored. If it is, I cannot promise I will continue to play the part of a docile noblewoman."

"I wouldn't expect you to," He said easily, "I only hope it wouldn't have to come to that."

Elspeth closed her eyes as he brought his lips to her own, capturing her in the sweetest kiss she'd ever known.

"I love you, Petal."

"And I love you, Demetre."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I never get tired of writing
Ellie