𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter twenty-two; Respect And Power
" The truth is only rewarded when it favors those in power. "

  "SO, HE'S BRIBING people to testify that you committed adultery?"

  Catherine pressed her fingers to her forehead as Elspeth scoffed angrily, crossing her arms.

  "Well, you can do the same, surely," Elspeth said quickly, turning, "I could--"

  "You will not be involved in the trial."

  "But--!"

  "You are Henry's subject as much as you are mine. You will not be involved."

  Elspeth frowned, taking a seat on the chaise in her room.

  "I will care for myself. And I will care for you. Demetre will be at your side. And if I have my way, Elspeth Liens; Francis will sit on France's throne with you at his side."

  Elspeth only sighed, knowing any attempt at arguing would not deter the queen.

  "Call on me if you need a thing, please."

  Catherine nodded, patting Elspeth's hands gently.

  "Off you go. If I am to be executed, it will be grand; and I will have a portrait crafted by your hands alone."

  "There are many more talented artists--"

  "I will hear none of it, Elspeth."

  The girl sighed, standing.

  "Of course."

  Catherine smiled, placing a hand on Elspeth's cheek before sending her off to Demetre's awaiting company.

  "I wasn't aware you were so loyal to her."

  Demetre peered at Elspeth out of the corner of his eye as he led her through the expansive hallways of the French castle.

  "Catherine?"

  "Mhm," Elspeth hummed.

  "She is my queen."

  "You warned me of her plots against Mary days after my arrival," Elspeth said pointedly.

  "Did I?"

  Elspeth let out a short laugh at his feigned cluelessness.

  "My loyalties wax and wane," Demetre answered with a sigh, "Currently, Catherine and I are seeing eye-to-eye."

  Elspeth had no questions left in her. She might have, if things were different, if things were normal.

  But things weren't normal so Elspeth walked in silence.

  And then they reached the art wing and Demetre took his seat as Elspeth began mixing paints for the palette of a queen.

↬

  "Darling Elspeth, join me for a walk, would you?"

  Demetre stood quickly at the entrance, relaxing just slightly once realizing it was only Catherine and her two appointed guards.

  "I can't get your hair color right," Elspeth frowned, not yet turning from the canvas before her.

  "Then walk with me and remember it," Catherine said, joining the girl's side, "You wanted to help me. My plans have changed, and I'll allow it now."

  "Catherine. . ." Demetre warned.

  "She will only serve as a witness. At this point you must know I have no intention of putting her in harm's way," Catherine said, almost tiredly, looking at the man, "You may join as well."

  Demetre looked to Elspeth, who gave a soft shrug in response.

  They went to Diane's chambers. A place Elspeth had never been before, and could not grasp why she was there now.

  Elspeth stood beside Demetre and the guards as Catherine searched the room, finding a small decorated porcelain sphere.

  Elspeth was unsure of why it meant a thing, but Demetre seemed to react as Catherine pocketed it.

  "You've done very well, Elspeth," Catherine praised, smiling, "Thank you."

  "That's all?" Elspeth furrowed her brows.

  "Well, the testimony part is left, but, yes."

  Elspeth pursed her lips, looking around the room for a moment.

  "While you're out, would you like to go for a real walk, then?"

  Catherine let out a breath, nodding, and linking her arm with Elspeth's.

  "You spoke with Bash."

  "I have," Elspeth said as they started toward the courtyard, "If their plot comes to fruition. . . perhaps I will join my brother in Paris. Or I will return to Scotland."

  "It will not come to fruition."

  "I hope not," Elspeth smiled sadly.

  Catherine patted her arm as Demetre held a door for them, the brisk autumn air greeting the women.

  "I will find you a more suitable husband, either way," Catherine sighed, "Not a bastard."

  "I wish to marry for love, Catherine," Elspeth breathed out, "I have a title, riches, my family owns land. . . I do not want for things like those."

  "You could always want for more. More riches, more power. . . you could do great things, Elspeth, if only you let yourself."

  Elspeth Liens had never thought of doing 'great' things. She had thought of painting, of riding horses and eating sweets, of writing and singing and dancing, she had thought of doing whatever she pleased-- but not once had she aspired to do something great.

  "I miss Francis," Elspeth admitted after a moment of silence.

  Catherine pursed her lips.

  "I miss Sebastian, too," She continued, "And Mary. And Kenna. Greer, Lola. . . Aylee. I miss my parents. My brothers. My niece."

  Elspeth slowed to a halt, her face a deep frown.

  "I miss how things were when I first arrived. Everything was so. . . easy."

  "We can never go back. Remember that."

  Elspeth looked to Catherine, knowing those words were a reminder to the woman herself as much as they were a lesson for Elspeth.

  So she sighed, leaned her head on Catherine's shoulder, and kept on walking, arm in arm with a queen.

  The rest of the walk was peaceful. Elspeth had almost forgotten how much she liked Catherine's company. How much the woman reminded her of her own mother, in moments like these away from court.

  This was broken the moment they returned to the castle and guards informed Catherine her audience was requested by the king.

  "We can accompany you, Your Majesty."

  "If you must."

  Demetre knew this was the closest thing to a 'yes' he'd ever get out of Catherine, so he and Elspeth followed her along with the guards.

  The throne room was nearly empty. Save for Henry, Mary, and Sebastian.

  Elspeth stood back along with Demetre as Catherine took center stage-- but attention was not on her yet.

  "Elle, you shouldn't be here," Sebastian said quickly.

  "No," Henry said, raising a hand, "Let her see who the woman she admires truly is."

  Elspeth shifted in discomfort, but her eyes refused to leave Henry's. As if that fighting spirit was still in her somewhere, a flame still burning bright.

  Her eyes only left when a man was thrown at Catherine's feet.

  "Richard, my old companion," Henry said, "How many taverns did we shut down when we were younger? I remember how that birthmark runs in your family. You were the first of my friends to grow a beard, weren't you?"

  "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Richard questioned, "What do you want me to say?"

  "That you're sorry!" Henry bellowed, "You were my friend and she was my wife."

  Suddenly, Elspeth understood why Sebastian had spoken up. She shouldn't be there. It was not her place. She didn't want to be a part of this-- anything but this.

  Henry nodded, causing two guards to grab the men and drag him away. 

  "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," Richard said to Catherine quickly.

  "A short goodbye, I know," Henry said, "If you need more time together I can have his head delivered to your chambers within the hour."

  "Always generous in victory," Catherine said.

  "It is victory. There is enough for the ecclesiastical court to render a guilty verdict."

  "And then you can have your way unobstructed. And put the son of your choice on the throne," Catherine said, stepping closer, "Pagan sympathizer though he is."

  Elspeth's heart sank, but she kept her expression stoney.

  "What?"

  "Oh, I could be wrong, he might not be a pagan sympathizer," Catherine said, "He might simply be a pagan like his mother."

  "How dare you make these wild, baseless accusations?" Mary argued, "You have no proof."

    And then Catherine produced the ceramic sphere.

  "I'm sure this is familiar, Henry. Diane kept it in her chambers. Oh, it's just a charming, decorative sculpture. If you had ever cared to read Nostradamus's books on pagan lore, you would know that this represents the soul of its owner," Catherine said, "It's meant to be kept in the lover's home, so the lover's soul can be kept close to one's own. It's very pretty, if heretical."

  Elspeth flinched as Catherine shattered it on the ground, watching as the woman let out a wry laugh before picking up the small trinket inside.

  "Diane's soul. Lovely, if a bit lightweight."

  "Father, let me speak," Sebastian tried.

  "Silence. You'll have your turn."

  "Let's face it, Henry," Catherine said, "What good is a Catholic claim to England when heresy abounds here in France? The rumors alone could splinter your realm and destroy your entire legacy."

  "Father, she's lying!" Sebastian spoke up, "She planted the evidence."

  "Silence!" Henry shouted, standing, "I've been betrayed sufficiently for one day. Go on."

  "Yes. I can see how you might suspect I had planted the evidence. But as it happens you've had two guards accompanying me wherever I go. Not to mention your huntsman and the daughter of a duke. How ironic that they are now my witnesses."

  This was her part. Elspeth understood why Catherine had done it. She'd clearly worked through more than one plan, this was not the first, and having multiple witnesses strengthened her story.

  But Elspeth couldn't forgive the expression of betrayal she received from Sebastian.

  "Fellows," Henry spoke, approaching one of the guards, "Is it true? Did you see the queen find this object?"

  "Yes, my lord. She told us to come in, along with Lord Langlois and Lady Elspeth, to witness that everything was above board. That thing was in a chest on the table. Queen Catherine didn't plant it there."

  "Would you be willing to testify to this publicly?"

  The man looked to Catherine hesitantly before speaking.

  "I will speak the truth, my lord."

  "Ah."

  Henry turned as if walking back to his throne, but in one swift movement, the sword at his hip as buried in the guard's neck, splattering blood on Catherine, Elspeth, and Demetre.

  Elspeth heard the gasps from Catherine and Mary-- perhaps one was from her own lips. She wasn't sure. She couldn't stop staring at the body. Even as she heard Henry question the other guard. She only saw the red. Even as she heard Henry approach her, she did not look away.

  "Elspeth."

  Her eyes snapped up at the loud voice, finding Henry's eyes staring into her own.

  "What about you?"

  She blinked.

  Her throat was dry. Her face was wet-- was it tears or blood, she had no idea.

  "Killing a noblewoman would not bode well."

  Henry's eyes snapped to Demetre's.

  "Simple advice from a loyal member of your ranks, my lord," Demetre said, though his tone said what his words would not.

  "You're dismissed. Take her with you. She is not to step foot in Catherine's tower."

  Elspeth blinked as a hand gently grabbed her bicep.

  Demetre was leading her away, but she could still see it so clearly.

  A horror like that up close. The man's blood on her face.

  The only other dead body she had ever seen was Aylee's.

  "Petal, look at me."

  Demetre's hands were on her face. She didn't know when they got there or when they stopped walking, but they had.

  They were in a hallway, not far from the throne room, one occupied only by servants and guards.

  "We need to get this blood off of you."

  His voice was so soft. Did he always speak like this? Surely not. It was too kind, too tender. This was not the man she had met, he was new altogether.

  "I can find a handmaid to help you, or we can wait if you need time," He continued, just as softly.

  "He killed him for speaking the truth."

  "The truth is only rewarded when it favors those in power."

  Elspeth blinked again.

  "That is cruel."

  "I never said it wasn't."

  Elspeth let Demetre lead her back to her chambers. She sat on the chaise lounge as a handmaid began drawing a bath. He disappeared for a while but returned with a face familiar to Elspeth.

  "Oh, Ellie."

  Kenna hugged the woman despite the blood still covering her.

  "Come on," Kenna said, grabbing her hands, "Let's clean you up."

  Elspeth followed her, turning her head to watch Demetre exiting the room, presumably to stand guard outside.

  Kenna helped her out of her dress, waving off the handmaid politely. The water was hot, but this was welcome as Elspeth stepped into it, curling her knees to her chest. She did not speak as Kenna worked gently, wiping at her face and arms before starting work on her hair.

  "A part of me believes I was meant to stay in Scotland."

  Kenna looked up at the words, though Elspeth's stare was blank at the wall in front of her.

  "I am not made for. . . for counts seizing castles and my betrothed being taken. For kings killing innocents, for a forest full of pagans, for choosing sides and losing friends--"

  Elspeth's words stopped as her sobs began.

  "You are the strongest among us," Kenna said fiercely, "The bravest, the smartest."

  "I am not brave. I am not smart. I am not powerful. . . I thought I was. When the world was Scotland. The place I grew up, the place where we were girls together, two children without responsibility. But now. . . the world is larger. Harsher. I fear I know nothing at all, Kenna."

  Kenna lifted a wet cloth, gently wiping the blood dotting Elspeth's pallor face, cleaning the horror from her dearest friend.

  "You may not hold the same power in France that you did in Scotland," Kenna said lightly, "But you are respected. That is something greater than power, as it cannot be taken or given as easily. . . You are respected because you are strong. Because you are educated, and well-mannered when you want to be, and socialized, and creative, and you can ride a horse and fight with a sword-- you are respected, Elspeth, because you were made for a path no one else can follow. You are meant for more than. . . this. Do not let yourself be fooled by men that anything less is true."

  Elspeth's eyes were still misty as Kenna continued cleaning her skin until there was no more red. Kenna helped her into a fresh night dress, motioning for the handmaid to tidy up the bathing tub as Elspeth climbed into her cold bed.

  Kenna made sure the woman was comfortable before cracking the door and having a hushed conversation with one Demetre Langlois. Elspeth couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could very well assume it was over her current state.

  Kenna returned to the bed, taking a seat on the side of the mattress with a sad smile.

  "I feel like a child."

  "That's nothing to be ashamed of," Kenna said quietly, "We are still young, Ellie."

  Elspeth sighed, holding onto Kenna's hand as if it were her lifeline.

  "If we ever tire of our time here, will you run back to Scotland with me?"

  Kenna let out a soft chuckle.

  "I thought your scheming was over when your father caught us trying to sneak you into knight training."

  Elspeth smiled fondly at the memory, looking up at the girl she had grown up alongside.

  "My scheming will never be over, Kenna."

  "Quite glad to hear it," Kenna smiled, "Of course, Ellie. If we tire of it, we'll run off back to Scotland. I've never said no to one of your plans before, I don't intend to start now."

  Elspeth chuckled, turning over in the bed to find a sliver of comfort in the sea of blankets.

  "Though, we may have to bring a certain hunter with us."

  "Demetre would loathe Scotland," Elspeth sighed, "He'd tire of the festivities and volume."

  "Perhaps," Kenna laughed, "But I believe he'd lose his mind if you left."

  "He would be alright."

  "Oh, yes?" Kenna mused, "The man who follows you around like a lost puppy?"

  "The Hunter of The Griml, Huntsman of France, Lord Langlois," Elspeth reminded, "He is not a lost puppy. I'm just. . . a curiosity."

  "I hope you don't believe that."

  Elspeth wasn't sure what to say. Of course, she knew Demetre meant a lot to her; he'd helped her in times no one else had, in ways no one else could. Sending her dresses, painting supplies, bringing her back to reality; but she had never truly wondered what she meant to him.

  "Even if I were his dearest friend, he would adjust to my absence quicker than he would adjust to Scotland."

  Kenna just smiled, shaking her head. 

  "Get some rest, Ellie. Demetre is standing guard, and I'll be here until you fall asleep."

  So Elspeth listened, for perhaps the first time in her life, and closed her eyes, searching for sleep, comforted by the company both in and outside of her room.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
hope nobody forget kenna
is a RIDE OR DIE for elspeth <3