𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter seventy; Our Own Forever
" You are the kindest man I have ever known. "

IT WAS A small crowd that greeted Elspeth and Demetre back to the French castle.

Sebastian and Kenna were present of course, along with Mary and Francis, and even Catherine had made it to the doors.

"Ellie!"

Elspeth laughed as Kenna nearly tackled her in a hug, the girls teetering from side to side for a moment.

"Oh, tell me all about it-- how's your mother? How's Blair?"

"They're both well-- Fraser showed up," Elspeth said quickly, pulling back enough to see Kenna's face as she gasped, "He told me about his wife."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"I feel as though I don't know enough about the situation to join in the joy," Sebastian said, "But we're glad to have you home, Ellie."

"Glad to be home," Elspeth smiled, letting Kenna go as her eyes scanned the remaining people.

Mary hugged her next, and Francis gave her a tight smile.

"Demetre."

"Let me stretch my legs for a moment, Francis," Demetre groaned, looking to Elspeth, "I'll join you for dinner, Petal?"

"Of course," She nodded.

"I'm not sure when we'll be finished. . ."

"By dinner," Demetre informed, clapping Francis's shoulder, "And if not, we'll resume tomorrow."

Francis looked grim, but nodded, departing with Demetre quickly.

"Ah, Elspeth, dear."

Elspeth grinned as Catherine approached, kissing each of her cheeks before holding her shoulders to inspect her.

"You're glowing," Catherine said fondly, "Perhaps we'll prepare your wedding sooner than a month, then?"

"Wedding?"

"We are engaged now," Elspeth informed a shocked Kenna and Mary, before turning back to Catherine, "Whatever timeline you wish is fine with us, Catherine. Can we chat? I missed you so."

"Of course, darling, we have much to discuss after all," Catherine grinned, pulling Elspeth's arm into her own.

Elspeth waved to her friends as Catherine pulled her along eagerly.

"I wondered if I might--"

"You're already married."

Elspeth's jaw dwindled as Catherine laughed.

"I knew--!"

"How?" Elspeth gaped, "I've hardly been back for a moment, and--"

"It's clear as day, dear," Catherine smiled, patting her arm, "But yes, we'll keep it quiet. Two high-standing nobles in my favor having a country wedding is not something I want to be remembered for. . . I've already chosen some decorations, and your gown is being made as we speak. It'll take another two weeks to complete, so that is the soonest we could prepare for."

Elspeth stared but shook her head as a laugh escaped.

"What?"

"You're a wonder," Elspeth admitted, leaning her head on Catherine's shoulder as they lazily strolled to her chambers, "I'd be lost in all of this, you know. I suppose I'll have to get better at planning social gatherings if I am to be a Duchess."

"That, you will," Catherine laughed, "But, fear not, I'll teach you what I know; you're a natural already, so it won't be difficult."

Elspeth smiled and opened her mouth to say more, but an unfamiliar woman interrupted their path.

She was striking, with red curls and tanned skin, extravagant jewels, and attire.

And before Elspeth could attempt a greeting, the stranger spoke.

"I heard Demetre and his fiancee were returning, but I had no idea you were so fond of her, mother."

Princess Claude, Elspeth realized. This was Claude, Francis's sister, and Catherine's only daughter.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Princess," Elspeth said honestly, preparing to curtsey to the woman, only for Catherine to halt the action.

"Claude, this is Elspeth Liens," Catherine said, "You should be preparing for--"

"I suppose quite a few people are fond of her," Claude continued, her eyes scanning every centimeter of Elspeth, "The Monster of France, my brother, my mother, the queen. . . you were the one engaged to Bash, too, weren't you? I didn't think--"

"Take care of your next words, Claude."

Both women were stunned into silence at Catherine's harsh tone.

Claude only lifted her chin, shouldering past the women and continuing down the hall.

"I'd ask you to help her with her manners if I thought she'd absorb any of it," Catherine sighed, "Come, let's sit, I need your opinions on the decorations."

Elspeth nodded, allowing Catherine to tug her along, but she still tossed a glance over her shoulder, just in time to catch Claude doing the same.

And for the briefest glimmer, Elspeth swore Claude looked hurt. But as soon as she saw it, Claude's expression melted into annoyance, turning away with finality and marching down the long, empty hallway.

↬

The wedding was planned by dinnertime. Elspeth was surprised by how far Catherine had gone into planning but found herself rather thankful the woman knew her so well.

And Demetre listened to every detail, nodding pleasantly along with each one Elspeth shared.

"The only thing she hasn't told me is the details of my dress," Elspeth admitted with a sigh, "I'm hopeful, but a bit nervous. . . I don't want anything gaudy, but I wouldn't put it past Catherine to see gaudy as the very best."

Demetre chuckled, nodding in agreement.

  "You could wear a flour sack, and you'd still leave me breathless."

  "A flour sack may be more comfortable than a ten-ton gown encrusted with diamonds."

  Demetre laughed at the thought, but Elspeth's expression showed a hint of true fear.

"Now. . . I hate to ask," Elspeth sighed, wiping the idea of a diamond-encrusted gown from her thoughts, "What did Francis summon you for?"

He shifted in his seat, glancing around the small dining room hidden deep within the Langlois wing of the castle.

"Sebastian knows about Henry's murder, and that Narcisse has blackmailed Francis," Demetre admitted, "As does Lola. She has continued her close relationship with Narcisse. . ."

Elspeth's lips parted in shock.

"Not to mention Narcisse has forced Francis's hand to sign an edict that now requires every person in France to announce their religion," Demetre continued, "And. . . Conde brought the Protestant minister whose church was destroyed in the same attack that his nephew was killed in to see Francis and Mary. The minister claimed he only wished for permission to rebuild the church, but he demanded Francis expel the Vatican from France. . . and if he does not, there is a bomb, set to take out Catholics in retribution."

She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, unable to find any words.

"The minister is being questioned. Conde and Bash have set out for answers in the meantime. . . Suffice it to say Francis was not pleased I departed for dinner."

"If you must attend to--"

"What I must do. . . is have dinner with my wife."

Despite it all, Elspeth smiled as his hand reached across the table. She placed hers in his palm, allowing his fingers to wrap around hers gently.

"A secret that could topple the country is spreading like wildfire and war between Protestants and Catholics is all but inevitable, and still, you worry for me?"

"None of the work I do means anything if I cannot return to you at the end of every day," Demetre said simply, "It's really your fault, isn't it? You just can't help but be hypnotizing."

"Hypnotizing?" Elspeth laughed, "You must've had too much to drink, Dear."

"Not a drop," Demetre smiled roguishly, leaning forward, "I simply love you, Petal."

"I love you too, Demetre," She smiled, meeting him halfway in a kiss.

Demetre smiled into it, snaking a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck.

Elspeth swore if she could, she would've lived there forever. In this closeness to him. She felt warm and safe. Nothing could touch her while he was near. And all at the same time, Elspeth felt so free. Like she could do anything she dreamed of as long as he was beside her.

"When will we return to Scotland?" Demetre asked gently pulling away.

"After the wedding, at least," Elspeth said quietly, squeezing his hand, "We'll have to get things in line here, as well. In the matter of your position; I doubt you've had time to tell Francis yet. . ."

"I haven't," Demetre said, "But I will. We must also sort out those employed by House Langlois. . . I know your parents have their own staff, but--"

"Alex and Hugo must be offered a position," Elspeth said quickly, "If they wish, they will always be welcome in Scotland."

Demetre smiled, running a thumb across the back of her hand.

"If they wish to stay, however. . . I have a few ideas," Elspeth said quietly, "If you're open to them."

"Always."

"For any of those who wish to remain in France. . . they should be provided with jobs, still," Elspeth said quietly, "Income, homes. . . And I know someone who would be a wonderful fit to attend to them if given the funds for it. . . and the home for it."

"Kenna."

Elspeth nodded hesitantly.

"You wish to welcome her and Sebastian into this wing of the castle?"

"Or. . ." Elspeth swallowed thickly, "There is a beautiful plot of land nearby. . . that I think would flourish under the lives of a new family."

She saw the emotions flash across his face. The pain, the shock, the fear; and then it turned to a quiet contemplation.

But through it all, he had never loosened his grip on her hand. He had never slowed his gentle strokes on her skin.

"It would take months to rebuild. Longer, perhaps, with all that is happening."

"Yes."

"It is not removed from court, Petal."

"But it is a home. A home where Kenna could breathe, beyond the judgemental eyes that follow her and Sebastian. . . a home where they might be happy," Elspeth said quietly, "And it provides care for those employed by House Langlois. . ."

Demetre studied her for a moment. He could see how uneasy she was even suggesting such a thing. Rebuilding his childhood home, the very beginning of the long scar that ran across his life, and giving it away.

But he could also see the light in her eyes. The glow from her. The same light that had captured him the first night they met.

He could see how much Kenna mattered to Elspeth. And how deeply she wanted to do something for the woman.

"Then I suppose we'll both be quite busy moving forward," Demetre said quietly, "You will be in charge of the construction, as well as any landscaping or--"

A breathy laugh escaped Demetre's lips as Elspeth hopped up from her seat to tackle him in a hug. He let out a long breath, holding her tightly, the woman herself falling into his lap, her arms wound around him.

"You are the kindest man I have ever known," Elspeth whispered into his neck, "I do not know how I am so lucky."

Demetre pulled back, bringing one hand up to cradle her jaw. She leaned into his touch, her gentle smiling warming every part of him.

"You deserve the world and nothing less, Petal."

Elspeth kissed him again then, because nothing she could say would convey her feelings any better than this.

  And he kissed her back, gently but meaningful. 

  He pulled away first, carding his hands through her hair, a soft smile gracing his features as her eyes fluttered closed from his touch.

  "I want to stay like this forever," She admitted in a whisper, "With you, in a room far away from everything else."

  "I know, Petal," He whispered in return, his voice soft and low, "We can have our own forever right now."

  She opened her eyes, his were already focused on her.

  "Our own forever?"

  He hummed, his smile still prevalent and lazy.

  "A smaller one," He said, "A 'for now' forever. And we'll keep having our smaller forevers, until the real thing is here."

  Elspeth smiled softly, nodding. 

  "Okay," She confirmed.

  Demetre swept her hair behind her shoulders, before cupping her face with one hand. 

  "We'll have dinners together each day," He said, "I will find you in the days when I can. And whenever you wish it, if you wish it, you can move into my chambers, and we can have forevers each night."

  Elspeth seemed to ponder it for a moment, tapping her fingers on his shoulder in contemplation.

  "Where will my gowns go?"

  Demetre tilted his head back as laughter rumbled up through his chest. Elspeth grinned, peering down at him as he shook his head, a wide grin splitting his face in half as he shook his head slowly.

  "I see where your priorities lie."

  "I can't simply let my collection of handmade dresses be forgotten," Elspeth argued light-heartedly, "All together, they cost a fortune. Not to mention my husband purchased a good bit of them for me; he'd be scandalized if I didn't care where they were put."

  "I think most men would care more for his wife in his bed than where her gowns were stored."

  "Then you haven't met my husband," She countered.

  "Tricky fellow, is he?"

  "Oh, quite. But I'd not have it any other way."

  Demetre smiled, letting Elspeth press a kiss to his cheek before she stood from his lap.

  "I suppose they could just stay where they are," She said genuinely, "This is our wing of the castle, so we could do whatever we wanted."

  "You are finally understanding."

  Elspeth rolled her eyes with a grin.

  "Yes, yes," She waved, "Come on, I'm tired and care more for my husband in my bed than this."

  Demetre laughed, accepting her outstretched hand, and standing alongside her. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, leading her down the quiet and empty hall until they reached his door.

  It was a quiet night. And Demetre wouldn't have had it any other way.

  Elspeth bathed and changed into her nightdress, he followed suit, before meeting her in between soft sheets. 

  And she was bashful and awkward for all of two minutes before she relaxed and they joked and read until she was fast asleep, her head resting on his chest, her legs carelessly tangled with his.

  Demetre Langlois pushed the book onto his bedside table, slipping further into the blankets and letting out a long breath as he stared up at the blank ceiling.

  He had laid like this many nights. Long after the world had fallen asleep. He had done it so much he'd memorized the lines that ran across the ceiling, and the singular small crack that ran along it.

  Most nights he had stayed awake to protest nightmares. To fend off a restless sleep. Some nights his mind simply would not let him sleep. Dreading the day after. Dreading whatever would come his way, whether it be a new task from Henry, political affairs, marriage propositions. But every night he had wished for the same thing.

  He had only ever wanted to be kind. That same foolish childhood aspiration, he'd held onto it. 

  It had changed and morphed over the years, but the core had remained the same.

  Sometimes he wished to be free enough to be kind. Sometimes he wished to be lonely enough or strong enough or calm enough. 

  Tonight, though, the first night he was spending beside his wife, Elspeth Liens, he realized he had only ever needed enough hope to be kind. Enough hope that there was more to the world than the cruelty and suffering he had been privy to since he was a child. Enough hope that even he, the Monster of France, was worthy of something good.

  Perhaps the boy inside of Demetre would sleep peacefully tonight knowing his aspirations were within reach finally.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I have been PUMPED to dive into
the Ellie x Claude dynamic