𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter ten; Hades and Persephone
" You fancy yourself a sort of devil, Demetre? "

PERHAPS IT WAS silly for Elspeth to remain at a costume party while her newly betrothed ran off trying to stop Tomas from sealing Mary to a terrible fate. But it was not only under Sebastian's recommendation but Mary's.

"Sebastian De Poitiers, if you hurt yourself—"

"We have to go, quickly," Sebastian urged, "But I can assure you, I will return to you in one piece."

Elspeth tightened her lips, nodding once. He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and quickly took off with Francis.

And Elspeth Liens went to brave the party with a pit of worry in her stomach.

"Are you alone, my dear?"

"I'm afraid so," Elspeth spoke, curtseying quickly as Catherine approached her.

"And where has Mary run off to?" Catherine questioned, attempting to ease her nerves with a goblet of wine.

"I believe you already have an inkling, Your Grace."

"Should've expected you wouldn't confirm it so easily," Catherine sighed, "Have you chosen to stay?"

"Sebastian and I are engaged, yes," Elspeth spoke, watching the partygoers and the sad sight of the man, shackled, at the center of it all, "Can I ask why you don't seem keen on an innocent man being saved?"

Catherine raised a brow as if daring Elspeth to continue.

"If he's not committed any crimes, why would you want him dead?"

"It's not about him, child," Catherine sighed, "You have much to learn about French court."

"I suppose I do," Elspeth agreed, spotting Demetre across the crowd, "Scotland is much different."

"I'm sure."

"Your Grace, may I ask you something?"

"Ask away."

"Will you be unhappy that I stay?" Elspeth questioned, "Regardless of whether Mary stays or goes, or what happens to Tomas?"

Catherine tutted, letting out a sigh.

"It's a shame you're tied up in all this," Catherine spoke honestly, "I only hope that if Mary does stay— you'll remain free of your duties as one of her ladies. That you'll stay in France as one of our people, instead of one of hers."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm fond of you," Catherine shrugged, "You're smart. I don't want you to be a pawn, you have greater potential than that. You have greater potential than marrying a bastard."

"I want to marry for love. Nothing more, or less."

Catherine almost smiled.

"Excuse me," She spoke, "Please remember what I said, Elspeth. I truly do not wish for us to make enemies of one another."

"Of course not, Your Grace," Elspeth smiled tightly, curtseying being Catherine left her.

And, of course, Demetre saw this opportunity and left the woman who'd entrapped him in conversation without a word, quickly approaching the girl.

"Married already?"

"Not quite."

"Ah, but engaged."

"Word travels fast."

"It's Court," Demetre answered bluntly, squinting his eyes briefly, "A wood sprite?"

"Kenna's idea, of course."

"A bit risque— perhaps it suits her, but not you."

"Don't belittle my friends, Lord Langlois."

Demetre pursed his lips and nodded, regretting his word choice.

"It was not the intention, Lady Elspeth," Demetre said, "I simply meant; Kenna has a wild spirit— wild in a way different than your own. It suits her, she wears it wonderfully. I just wish you'd perhaps come to me with ideas."

Elspeth only then took the time to see his costume— it looked simple, so simple, in fact, it was hardly any different from his daily attire. A dark tunic and trousers, an embellished medallion with what she assumed to be that of the crest of House Langlois, and a poorly crafted golden headband, sat like a crown upon his head.

"Dressing up as the king?"

"Hades," He smiled lazily, "Yes, Francis thought it funny to dress me up so befittingly."

"You fancy yourself a sort of devil, Demetre?"

"I'm surely not a saint," Demetre laughed at the idea, sighing, "You could've been Persephone, you know?"

Elspeth paused, turning to Demetre with a straight face. He furrowed his brows briefly, awaiting her words.

"Do not flirt with me."

"You think very highly of yourself, Petal, I must say," He smiled, "I only meant Persephone seemed better suited. You know, she's the Goddess of Spring and the Queen of the Underworld. A dual-sided sword— in Spring and Summer, she roams the Earth with her mother and brings blossoms and new life. In Autumn and Winter, she returns to rule the Underworld alongside her husband, Hades. If I hadn't known any better, I'd say she was modeled after you, Petal."

Elspeth didn't have anything else to say after this, and Demetre didn't seem frustrated by her silence.

She always thought too far into things, Elspeth scolded herself silently as Demetre passed her a goblet— he was a friend. He helped France feel like home; showing her an art wing, warning her to keep safe, and swooping in to save her from the awkward dread of being alone at a party.

"Your crest is beautiful," Elspeth said, pointing to the medallion around his neck in an attempt to turn the conversation, "Does your family own land close by?"

Demetre let out a wry chuckle, looking into his goblet for a long moment. Elspeth feared she'd said the wrong thing, brought up a sensitive topic, but Demetre spoke up.

"I am the last remaining member of the House of Langlois," Demetre said, his hands running over the medallion, "I handed over my land, happily, to earn a place here. The King's Hunter. A large room of my wing in the castle. Respect. It was worth it. After all. . . I wasn't leaving anything behind."

"What. . . happened? To get here, to your family. . . how. . ?"

Demetre knew this wasn't another round of prying questions like everyone else who ever managed to hold a conversation with Lord Langlois. This wasn't morbid curiosity or pity or anything of the sort.

It was Elspeth Liens feeling his pain right alongside him without even knowing his story.

"A story for another time, Petal," Demetre said gently, "What I have to ask, is why Sebastian De Poitiers was seen ordering ten dresses from Paris."

Elspeth let out a laugh, unable to hold it back.

"I cannot believe he followed through with Kenna's request," She laughed, shaking her head.

"They were not for you?"

"Not this time," Elspeth shook her head with a smile, "Though, seeing as he sent her ten for a moment of my time, I'll have to see how many he sends to me."

"You want Parisian dresses?"

"Who wouldn't?" Elspeth questioned, "Dresses, jewelry, ribbons. . . I adore it all. I understand if you, or Sebastian, don't see the point of it all. . . but there is something about donning oneself with a new dress. . ."

She sighed dreamily at the thought. But Elspeth would never truly ask for these things, she'd never outright request a gift, especially something so expensive.

"I know a woman in Paris," Demetre said casually, "She's become quite well-known for creating one-of-a-kind gowns for women such as yourself. . . I could call in a favor."

"I could never ask you to," Elspeth shot down quickly, "I appreciate it, truly, but-"

"But, what, Petal?" Demetre poised, "I have no woman to buy these things for, no sister or mother, no lover or daughter. I know a thousand dress-makers and jewelry crafters, yet I have no excuse to purchase from them."

Elspeth's features fell slightly, brows pinching together.

"Allow me this pleasure, of purchasing from my friends, and gifting to another," Demetre said gently, his lips tugging into a smile, "Consider it an engagement gift, huh?"

Elspeth narrowed her eyes, thinking it over for a long moment.

"Only if you truly wish to," She said finally.

"I do, Petal."

Elspeth went to say something else, to question the truth of his statements or why he so badly wanted to send her the things she loved, but before she could, Francis and a group of men barged into the room.

"Make way!" Francis announced, "This is your spy."

Elspeth let out a gasp as Tomas's dead body fell to the marble ground, his eyes still open but empty.

"We have witnesses."

"Two of them," Mary announced, joining the group.

And in the midst of this chaos, of finding out the man who was previously going to wed Mary was now dead (granted he was nothing short of cruel), Elspeth found herself hurrying to Sebastian's side— his tunic donned with a deep bloodstain.

"Sebastian—"

"I'm fine," He quickly eased the woman who positioned herself below his arm, helping him stand, "I swear, Elle, I'm alright—"

"You—" Elspeth pursed her lips in anger, already walking him towards Nostradomus's wing, "You—!"

"Bastard?" Sebastian supplied with a smile, laughing when Elspeth let out an angry sigh, "I told you, Elspeth, I'd come back in one piece."

"One, bloody, injured, messy piece," Elspeth sighed, shaking her head lightly, "Goodness, what will I do with you, Sebastian?"

And he only grinned and let her fawn, and did what he was told when Elspeth explained his state to Nostradamus (who, himself, was becoming fond of the Scottish girl).

Because Elspeth Liens was smart. And she lectured him. And she asked Nostradamus what she needed to do to help. And above all else, at this point in time, Elspeth Liens was now Sebastian De Poiters's fiancee, and he figured he'd be alright if this was what the rest of life had in store for them.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
Catherine and Elspeth is such
a FUN dynamic to write--
ALSO?? Idk if I'm an idiot
or if I just forgot but mary
dressed up as Artemis in
this episode?? So obviously
I had to make Demetre Hades
and the parallels between
Persephone as a person
and Elspeth?? LOVE IT