𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄.
chapter sixty-four; Under The Apple Tree
" He cared more for staying. "

THE GARDENS WERE expansive. Perfectly trimmed hedges lined it, providing a bit of privacy from the rest of the estate.

Elspeth led Demetre through rows of flowers in every color he could imagine, perfectly cared for, lively reaching for the sun. They passed a smattering of tables and benches, and two fountains before he saw the orchard.

Somehow he could tell Elspeth loved it there.

The hill continued up a bit before rows of trees began. A few of them bore brightly colored fruits, while others simply provided shade and lumber.

They entered the rows, a canopy of leaves protecting them from the sun briefly, save for the beams that poked through, and only then did Elspeth take his hand.

"Have they always been at odds?"

"Fraser and Douglas?"

"Mhm."

Elspeth tugged him to a halt beneath a rather sturdy-looking apple tree, taking a seat at the base of it. Demetre followed suit, allowing his spine to rest against the trunk, stretching his legs out before him.

"Hans was raised to be Duke," Elspeth explained, "He was. . . perfect. Well-mannered, level-headed, but kind. Funny. He was the best part of all of us. A perfect combination. . . The rest of us have always been imbalanced. Hans helped us find balance."

Elspeth smiled sadly, letting out a small sigh before readjusting to lay on the soft grass beneath them. She rested her head on Demetre's thigh, staring up at the canopy of leaves as they rustled in the soft breeze.

"Fraser has always been a stick in the mud."

Demetre snorted.

"Father thought he'd be a perfect knight because of it," Elspeth said, "I think those lessons amplified it. He was a rule-abiding kid; I swear he chastised me more than our parents did growing up. . . He cares. He does, I know he does. . . he just has a different way of showing it most of the time. . . Douglas is more like me. Wild, free, untameable. Fraser always said I had an excuse to act the way I did, growing up with three brothers, being the youngest, living under my mother's influence. . . he said Douglas didn't have an excuse. That he needed to mature, realize that he wasn't the little brother anymore."

Elspeth remembered the days she had spent with all four of them on the estate. Running wild; Douglas gave into her antics first, always. Hans supported her fighting off of suitors, but never let her refuse lessons for very long. Fraser reminded her of the rules and chastised her for her manners while brushing dirt out of her hair.

And at the end of every day, no matter who had argued or who had gotten in trouble, the four of them were always together. Each day ended with family dinner and lounging in the sitting room, with Elspeth painting, Douglas plucking keys on a piano, Hans reading, and Fraser studying.

They always came back together.

"When Fraser turned twenty he told us he'd met a girl and was preparing to marry her," Elspeth said, "We'd never heard of her, let alone met the woman. . . still haven't met her. My parents were supportive, of course, but they prioritized family before all else. If one of us marries, their spouse is family. . . Disconnection is strange to us. So he and my father talked. No one quite knows what was said, but at the end of it, Fraser said he wouldn't continue his road to becoming a knight, and he'd be moving out into the countryside with his wife."

Demetre looked down at her as she spoke. Her brows were knitted just barely, with a hint of pain from the past.

"And then two weeks later he was gone," Elspeth breathed out, "He kept in touch. Wrote letters. He told me about his wife and their home. Not in much detail, but enough. . . Douglas took it worse. It wasn't a 'Liens' way of life to him. To uproot and leave like that."

"Douglas lives in Paris, doesn't he?"

"He does," Elspeth smiled ruefully, "It was my mother's idea. Douglas had been sulking around the estate for far too long. Going out drinking with his friends, writing poetry under the influence. . . we had been wild. But Douglas found an entirely new meaning of the word. So, my mother suggested he travel. See the world, see the arts. . . Douglas did. And he fell in love with Paris, so he stayed."

"But he's still bitter Fraser left."

"Douglas is fickle. We all are," Elspeth admitted, "There had always been a line, I think. Hans and Fraser were on one side while Douglas and I were on the other. The responsible eldest sons, and the rambunctious younger siblings. I always went to Hans for advice. I looked up to him, I admired him. And he protected me. Taught me how to be steadfast while being polite. . . He and Fraser always tried to guide Douglas and me onto the right paths. They just did it in different ways. I held it against Fraser for a long time. I always told Hans he was mean and grumpy. . . but Hans told me Fraser had been under a lot of pressure for a very long time. . . He was the second born. Old enough to have expectations, but too young to hold the title. That's why he left. Because he couldn't bear being in the middle. I have to believe that's why he refused the title. Because he'd already given it up so long ago."

Elspeth looked to Demetre, his gentle gaze already on her.

"We're all a little lost without our guiding light. Fraser thinks too analytically for Douglas and me. We're too argumentative for him. And there is no longer someone to step in and say 'I see you all. But we must stand together.' It's just three people fumbling around in the dark."

She frowned slightly, so Demetre grabbed hold of her hand to let her know he was there. That he saw her and was standing with her.

"They're too involved with the idea of our courtship because they never had been before," Elspeth said, "Hans was the eldest, so he was the one to talk about those things with my parents and me. I was given the freedom to choose my husband, but they still wished to bless the union, even if only to ensure that I would be safe and happy in it. . . They've all cared for and protected me in their ways. But Hans was always the leader. He was the voice for us all. The only one who could get us on the same page. . . Now they think the position stands empty and they must rush to fill it. I know it's fueled by good intentions. . . But I think it's also fueled by guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Because it was not us that stood here and helped the duchy in the plague. It was Hans. He went out, knowing he could catch the sickness because he cared more for helping others. . . He cared more for staying. Even now, returning here. . . the three of us couldn't bring ourselves to travel for Hans's funeral. We came here to solidify my courtship. Or that is what we will tell ourselves, instead of admitting we only came running home after tragedy had already fallen."

"Petal, you don't. . . do you carry that guilt as well?"

She thought before she answered. Turning her gaze back to the sky, resting their intertwined hands on her stomach.

"Perhaps in a way," Elspeth finally admitted, "But it had been known most of my life that I was to be Mary's lady in waiting. That when the day came I would go to France with her, and there was a chance I would never return home. . . But Fraser and Douglas left on their own accords. And I think they carry that weight, even though they should not. Hans was happy for all of us. For finding our lives, ourselves, for exploring and expanding. . . he never held it against them."

Demetre squeezed her hand once.

"Douglas will like you once he cools down," Elspeth said, looking back at him, "I think Fraser will, too. Though, the list of people Fraser calls 'friend' is shorter than yours."

Demetre tilted his head back as laughter spilled from his lips and Elspeth thought it was the most glorious thing she had ever seen.

The way the skin over his throat stretched, Adams's apple bobbing as the laughter rumbled, smile lines forming on his cheeks.

"That is a feat, isn't it?" He questioned, still grinning as he peered down at her, "Perhaps his wife has done for him what you have done for me."

"I never thought about it that way," Elspeth said softly, interlacing their fingers together.

Demetre hummed, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"If you have taught me one thing, it is to give hope a chance. Try to see the light. Believe there is still good in people."

Elspeth had never assumed her brothers were evil or cruel in the way people thought Demetre was.

But it had been much easier to cast judgment on them. Much easier for her to disregard the idea of their struggles in the face of strife.

"You're quite wise, really."

"Me?"

"Yes," Demetre chuckled softly, "You see things few people do because you pay attention to things others ignore. Because you want to see behind the curtain, instead of simply watching the show on stage. Your determination, your morals, your heart, Elspeth, they make you wise."

Elspeth smiled under his praise, but truly thought on his words.

She had given Demetre the benefit of the doubt after he had proved himself. She believed in Sebastian after she had fallen in love with him.

But she had gotten close with Catherine because she knew behind the mask, she was a good woman. Elspeth had befriended Lois because, despite his religious ties, he had the same morals as her.

Elspeth wondered if giving that same benefit would better the relationships that had withered or never bloomed at all.

"Honey catches more flies than vinegar."

She glanced up at him in time to catch his raised brow.

"My mother used to say it," Elspeth said, pushing herself up, "I thought it was a comment on my lack of manners, but I understand her now."

"How so?"

"Anger scarcely invites honesty. Perhaps it would better suit. . . certain situations if I were to stifle my true feelings."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I won't get into danger."

"It's not about danger. I just quite like your true feelings, Petal."

"I will always be true to you."

And the bright flames of determination retreated only slightly as Demetre Langlois smiled at her words. He lifted a hand, cradling her jaw, and bringing her lips to his own.

Elspeth Liens figured his kiss was sweeter than any apple the tree that housed them could dream of creating.

And when they broke apart, Elspeth wondered if the Earth itself was jealous of his beauty.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, my Petal," Demetre said softly, carding his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

"Until the end of our days?"

"Even after then, my darling. When we are nothing but bones in the ground, I will love you still. When we are nothing but souls after, I will love you still."

And Elspeth lifted her hand to rest atop his because she knew he meant it.

Every part of her loved every part of him. And he loved her in return. A river that ran both ways.

"Will we live here?" She said softly, "Once we are wed? Once my parents have passed the title?"

"If you wish."

"What do you wish?"

Demetre thought before answering. He soaked up the warmth of the sun spots and the glimmer of hope in Elspeth's gaze. The feeling of her golden hair between his roughened fingers, and her soft thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand.

"I wish for a long life," He whispered, "Alongside the most remarkable woman I have ever known. I wish for peace. For warm weather. I wish to watch you paint. . . I wish for our love. Our happiness. I do not know if France will foster it. But I will never force a choice out of you."

"I love France because it brought me you. Because it has shown me things I had never known I didn't know. . . It taught me lessons I could never learn inside of a classroom. . . It has brought me friends; Francis, Sebastian, Louis, Catherine. . . I love France, Demetre. And I know you do, too. I don't want to take you from your home. . . but I wish for us to be Duke and Duchess Langlois. . . I wish for us to be here. . . I spent my childhood on this estate. Riding horses, picking fruit, running through mazes of flowers. . . I learned to read in the courtyard, and I learned to paint in my brother's study. . . I wish for us to care for it here. We can spend however long you wish in France-- I hardly think I am ready to say goodbye to it yet-- but. . . one day. Whenever we are ready. . . I wish for us to settle here. To have a life in Scotland. . . To. . . Have a family here."

She saw something change in Demetre's eyes at her final sentiment. It was not a flash of fear and repulsion, it was something far more tender. Something that struck a chord very deep inside of Demetre Langlois.

"I want to care for staying," Elspeth whispered. "For us and for Hans."

"As you wish, Elspeth Liens."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
Ellie and Demetre deserve nothing
less than spending every
afternoon under a tree together
just like this.