Page 125 of Disillusioned
Henri passed a hand over his face. “I don’t think we’ve ever received a letter from the whorehouse. Not in my reign. Have we, John?”
“No, not if my memory serves me correctly, Your Grace.”
“Even your father considers himselfabovethe harlots of that house,” her mother spat, inspecting her fingernails as Henri fell silent.
“What exactly are you accusing me of?” Lilac hissed. “Fucking someone there? Starting the fire?”
Nevermind that it was the truth; she just wanted to hear them say it. Her parents didn’t know what they thought either, or were hesitant to voice it. They exchanged peeved glances with each other. They’dseenher covered in blood and soot.
Marguerite lifted a helpless hand. “Then why would they bother contacting us?”
Her parents had been willing to provide aid to Bog without much pushback at all. “Because everyone deserves the right to ask for help. It is a right for all that shouldn’t only be reserved for nobility, or those close tothem, or in bed with them. Or inebriated bar owners.” Lilac angled her head to glance at Henri, shielding her face from the window. “Don’t get me started on who we’ve laundered money through, Father.”
Henri’s mouth hung open. Lilac pushed her chair back and carried the parchment and envelope to her scribe. “Approve it for disbursement. Please double the asking amount by the end of the week. I would also like to issue my decree today.”
John’s hand stopped sliding across his notes, scribbled in a separate book. He peered down, shifting the sheets of parchment to survey her draft. “As in, by this evening?”
“As in, as soon as possible. Alert the town criers.”
John chewed on the nib of the quill as he sometimes did, staining his bottom lip in ink. “I suggest a partial release. I can send this first bit to the town criers, if you’re sure. But the rest, including the other clauses, can be finalized and released at a later date. That is, if you feel more preparation is required.”
“That is precisely what I meant,” she said. “We will start slowly.” She had informed John beforehand that there would be several clauses to the decrees she planned on passing—the latter ones containing her Accords. He’d balked at some of them and had quietly approved or disapproved with a hum or tilt of his lips, but otherwise obliged and kept her plans confidential. “We will release this decree today. The rest is the portion that requires signatures of external parties.”
John nodded dutifully.
Henri craned his neck to read the scribe’s scroll, but Lilac quickly stamped her hand over it. “It is not for your eyes until release. You can read it with everyone else.”
Henri took an affronted step back, crossing his arms and whipping his head at Marguerite, who only scowled at him.
“And these are punishable by imprisonment?” John asked. “Just to be sure.”
“By either imprisonment or death if a trial isn’t warranted. Thank you.” Lilac took several steps toward the door, and when she didn’t hear any movement behind her, spun and motioned to her scribe and Piper. “Well? This decree isn’t going to release itself.”
John and Piper exchanged glances. “I thought I’d take care of it, especially since you’re preoccupied at the moment, Your Majesty,” he said.
“Well, I am not making myself very useful here, am I? We’ll finish this in the library.”
“Are you positive? We can wait,” said Piper half-heartedly, her poorly hidden scowl lessening. “Anything could’ve happened on his travels, if you’d like to wait for the news.”
Lilac was done waiting. She couldn’t sit in that chair any longer awaiting the fate she’d accepted. It seemed everything, every decision in her life, had been decided for her, and maybe Garin had been right—it did come with the territory of her birth, and it was normal for a woman, for the betterment of others, to accept a fate she hesitated on or outright did not want.
She would soon give her hand to the emperor while stuffing down the terror of placing her fate in a stranger’s hands. It was a steep price for her kingdom’s protection and the likely prevention of war, but in doing so, what else was she sacrificing?
Just hours ago, she was with Garin. Straddling him, kneeling before him,tangledin him. She flushed at the thought of their night, unable to recall where she’d ended and he’d began. Despite it all, she wanted more; she’d been left no choice but to give her free will, monopoly over her heart and mind, to him. All things considered, that should have terrified her far more than a marriage to a powerful ruler who offered her what many royal families would have jumped at.
If she were left alone with her thoughts any longer, she would make the wrong decision and doom her entire kingdom—and Brocéliande. She needed a distraction; she would not wait on a betrothal to start on her promises to the Daemons.
“I’d rather be productive in the meantime,” Lilac answered, resuming her exit. This time, John and Piper rose to their feet and followed. “If the emissary shows up and presents his contract, you’ll find me in the library.” They would work on the Accords together. Having a finalized draft ready ahead of time would only prove a boon when they’d turned the chest over to Kestrel.
“Wait!” She looked back to see Marguerite holding her skirts, tiptoeing daintily down the steps. “Wait.”
Reluctantly, Lilac waited for her to catch up as Piper and John arrived at her side.
“I know you said no celebrations or soirees, besides your coronation,” Marguerite huffed, her hands out in front of her as Henri kept his head down and helped himself to breakfast, “but I simply couldn’t resist.”
“Mother.” Lilac froze, her voice a hoarse whisper. “What did you do? What am I about to walk into?”
“I wanted to celebrate you and your new groom. Your stand-in groom.”
