𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter forty-seven; Lost
" I'd prefer a suit of armor to be in Henry's presence, but I don't feel I've enough time. "

  ELSPETH WOKE IN her own bed the following morning. She didn't remember falling asleep, or how she'd made it back to her own chambers, but there she sat.

  She pushed the covers off of herself, sighing and electing to focus on the day ahead instead of chasing down questions.

  Today. She would tell Demetre today.

  At least, that was the plan.

  Elspeth had assumed he'd take at least a day off, but by the time she had bathed and changed and set out to his room, Hugo informed her that Demetre was in a meeting with Queen Catherine.

  She tried to keep her determination, insisting she, Hugo, and Alex should go for breakfast and paint; they should maintain their routine until Demetre was free again.

  The guards did not argue.

  "Have you two spoken to him?" Elspeth questioned through a mouthful of fruit.

  "Yes," Alex confirmed, "He asked that we catch him up on anything he missed during his time away."

  Elspeth's chewing slowed, her eyes flitting between the guards.

  "Did you tell him I've been hunting with Sebastian?" She questioned.

  The men avoided eye contact.

  "I was going to tell him," Elspeth groaned, "Heaven help me. This is a mess so far."

  "What is?"

  Elspeth went back to chewing when Hugo inquired.

  "Elspeth?"

  "Nothing, don't worry," She said quickly, "Let's finish up so we can paint."

  And both men went along with whatever Elspeth said, not daring to pry any further.

↬

  The day slipped away quickly. Elspeth had fallen back into her routine. Aside from the block of time allocated for hunting; she had gotten a message that Sebastian had found a boy in the woods, all on his lonesome, so the hunt had paused until they knew more.

  So she painted. And she shared lunch with Kenna and Greer who asked a million questions, only a few of which Elspeth dared to answer. Then Elspeth walked the castle grounds with Alex and Hugo, before returning to the art wing.

  They were nearly ready to retire for the night when the door opened and Demetre Langlois entered.

  "Is everything okay?" Elspeth said quickly, "You've only just returned and Catherine's already asking for meetings with you--"

  "I'm fine, Petal," Demetre all but sighed out, resting his hands on her shoulders, "It's a matter with Henry."

  Her throat tightened.

  "Not to do with you, or your safety," His voice softened, "It's about his sanity. He's all but gone now, and he's mobilizing men to send to England."

  "What?!"

  "I'll be busy the next few days," He said, regret lacing his tone, "This, unfortunately, is not something that can wait."

  "Oh."

  Demetre frowned deeply as the happiness drained from Elspeth's face. She tried to mask it, as well as she could, but Demetre could tell the light inside her had dimmed. Even as she tried to plaster on a weak smile and nod, turning back to her easel and picking up her paintbrush again.

  "We can go on a trip when it's been sorted."

  "A trip?" Elspeth couldn't help but laugh, turning to face Demetre with a crease in her brow, "What do you mean?"

  "I think we both deserve a break from this damned castle," Demetre said, "Once I've dealt with this, we can have it. A month away."

  "An entire month?" Elspeth questioned, a real smile carving onto her lips when he nodded, "Well, where would we go?"

  "Anywhere you want," Demetre shrugged, stuffing his hand in his pocket, "Think on it, and I'll sort everything out."

  Elspeth stared up at him for a long moment. So long it made Demetre's heart stutter. 

  "Okay."

  Demetre smiled, looking between Alex and Hugo.

  "If you need anything, Petal, send word for me," He said, "You are still my first priority."

  Elspeth nodded, still smiling, unable to say anything.

  Demetre nodded in response, turning on his heel, and exited the room without another word.

  A trip would be perfect. Away from the castle, away from the fighting and gossip and suffocating stares. Elspeth would be able to breathe, and she'd have Demetre back. No duties, no meetings, just the two of them.

  And they could sort out the unspoken feelings they both had. The ones Elspeth knew existed.

  She, of course, had no way of knowing what the week ahead held for her.

↬

  It was early in the morning when Demetre barged into Elspeth's chambers. The girl was shocked out of sleep, tugging her covers up to hide the skin her sleep slip exposed.

  "Petal, up, now."

  "Demetre Langlois--!"

  "Henry is forcing everyone to converge in the courtyard," Demetre said, his voice heavy as he stared at the stone floor, "I want you to stay beside me the entire time. Do not wander, do not speak to anyone, and do not look at Henry."

  Elspeth's heart was racing. She scrambled out of her bed quickly, yanking her heaviest cloak around her shoulders and securing it down the front so she was shrouded in the dark fabric.

  "Why?"

  "I've no idea," Demetre responded, only glancing up when her hand touched his arm, "Is the cloak enough?"

  In all reality, it swallowed her whole. It was a dark navy color, with thick heavy fur that hung from her shoulders to the floor, and a collar of black fur tickled at her chin. All that was showing was her face, but he still wanted to ensure her comfort.

  As much as he could.

  "I'd prefer a suit of armor to be in Henry's presence, but I don't feel I've enough time," Elspeth said weakly.

  Demetre rested a hand atop hers, squeezing it tightly.

  She clung to him as they exited their wing of the castle. Falling in with the rest of the people who were woken up abruptly, scrambling out of bed to meet the King.

  Elspeth wondered if it had anything to do with Demetre and Catherine's meetings. 

  The courtyard was already full when they arrived. Elspeth kept her eyes glued to her feet, but she dared to glance up when they stopped walking and another hand rested on her back.

  Catherine stood uneasily beside Francis and Mary, her eyes checking over Elspeth while her hand rubbed calming circles on the girl's back.

  Somehow, this made her even more uneasy.

  "One or more of you here, my friends, my family. . . my subjects. . . tried to kill me."

  Elspeth didn't dare look at Henry as he began speaking. She kept repeating Demetre's rules in her mind as if she would forget them otherwise. Catherine's movements had slowed, but her hand still rested on Elspeth's back. Demetre was shuffling, before his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.

  She felt safe there. Content and warm. Elspeth only wished she was this close to him under better circumstances.

  "I have taken steps," Henry continued, "You have seen my new men, modeled after the Praetorian Guard of the Roman Emperors; loyal only to me. But I knew more needed to be done. The guilty revealed. And this night, in a dream. . . God told me how."

  Elspeth felt a wave of nausea as she heard the unmistakable sound of Henry drawing his sword.

  "My oath to him; this sword. . . will not be sheathed until it has taken a life. As the sun rises this sword will cast a shadow. When that shadow touches the guilty. . . I'll know."

  Slow deliberate footsteps were all Elspeth heard. Catherine's hand had stilled entirely. Demetre's grip around her tightened.

  And then it was silence.

  Until Henry spoke again.

  "Who here made their confession yesterday?"

  Elspeth had no intention of saying a word even if her throat could loosen for a noise to escape, but Demetre squeezed her shoulder as if to tell her to remain silent, and Catherine grabbed the back of her cloak.

  "I did."

  She breathed out as an unfamiliar voice spoke. Of relief and grief. 

  "Travers, my lord," The man said, "Secretary to Lord Bellamy."

  "Did you fornicate last night?" Henry asked, "Or take the Lord's name in vain?"

  "Of course not, my lord."

  "We should all be as ready as you."

  The crowd gasped. A thud sounded as something heavy and limp hit the stone flooring.

  Elspeth did not need to see to know Henry had just killed Travers.

  "Be off," Henry said, "Don your finest clothing. The celebrations of our victory at Calais will reach their peak. Clean that."

  Demetre Langlois pulled Elspeth to his chest, cradling the back of her head to him and meeting Francis's eyes over the top of her head.

  "I was wrong," Francis admitted, "He is lost."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
i honestly forget how
INSANE reign gets in season
2... like i remember
the big plot points, but
I've started writing this
into S2 and it's just like
nonstop insanity