Page 146 of Disillusioned
“Yes, Rupert, I do,” she said curtly. “I suspect many other women know of all the institutions where men are allowed to study freely, and from which we are barred. I was fortunate to have a governess and tutors. Other well-read women are not so lucky, when they ought to be. Having a non-royal parent sounds freeing, though,” she added, hoping to lift Rupert’s spirits. “To have one foot in the world of nobility, and one to give you a sense of normalcy.”
Rupert made a face. “It can be. It is also burdensome. For one, not having a title when it would probably benefit me. Give me guidance on some grand purpose in life. Mother could take a husband at any time, rich or poor, yet I’d still be her bastard son.” His head turned, and he sighed. “And here she comes.”
Lilac untangled herself from him to find Emma striding toward them.
“Your Majesty!” The countess stopped much too close and leaned in topress her cheek against Lilac’s. Despite her brown hair flecked with gray, her demeanor was lively and youthful. She smelled of pears, precariously balancing a champagne flute in one hand as she curtsied. “Emma Mènard, of Vannes. Pleased to meet you.”
“Rupert’s told me all about you. We’re friends from when he worked here,” Lilac added, returning the curtsey.
“And I’ve heard much about you.” Emma motioned at her, marveling at the way her sleeves caught every fragment of warm, muted light. “And that gown. One of Herlinde’s pieces?”
Lilac stole a glance at Garin over Emma’s shoulder. He was looking directly at them. “Yes. It was a generous gift from a friend.”
“It’s a shame Vivien isn’t here to see it. Would’ve ruined her mood to see a Daemon-made dress on the floor. Rest her soul, and good riddance.”
Rupert only ran a hand over his face. “Not here.”
“What?” The countess swilled her drink. “She was a terrible person born into serfdom, and still when she was raised with her parents’ restored ranks. She deserved to stay a servant.”
Lilac never witnessed anyone of noble rank voice such discontent with the Le Tallecs or Ermengardes. “I was blindsided by Vivien,” Lilac said quietly. Her family’s underlying strife with them had been made public after her accession, but it still felt taboo to admit. “What made them reinstate her parents? Do you know?”
The countess gave a sly shrug. “Good behavior on her parents’ end. They even left for a weeks’ long retreat to theArmorbefore resuming their duty on your grandfather’s court. We all thought they were being banished, but they returned one day from Douarnenez and were welcomed back into their old quarters like nothing had happened. Vivien then had her first taste of a life of nobility and hungered for the status that came with it. And more.” She squinted, rifling through her memory. “She loved spreading the rumor she’d heard from her parents about how your ancestor is the reason her family hadn’t been married into the monarchy.”
Lilac’s forced smile faded. “I’dloveto hear this rumor.”
“Of course you would.” Appearing to love the gossip, Emma looked around, ensuring no one was listening. “Toward the end of the War of Succession, this kingdom saw many moving parts. There was a respected duke then, Geoffrey of Penthievre, whose family resided in what is the LeTallec manor now. He had an only son, Alor, who was troublesome in his youth, but began training to spearhead the king’s armies when Geoffrey fell ill. He became a fair constable at the king’s right hand. Alor oversaw many, but there was a particular group of soldiers he trained himself, mostly stowaways and young men who were orphaned by the war. He and his group of men were unstoppable until they met their fate.”
“They were killed by vampires.” She didn’t know what possessed her to say it. Maybe it was the fascination over everything. She was tired of glossing over the real histories, once overwhelmed by everything she was taught under either systems of intentional or accidental ignorance—the truths she was left to find on her own. Reddening, Lilac pulled a flute of champagne from a passing tray and sipped from it, hoping it would calm her nerves and help the dull ache in her lower back.
To her relief, Emma raised her own glass. “My,” she chuckled, impressed. “You know your history.”
In the Trevelyan farmhouse, Garin had told her all about Laurent’s attack that had cost his company their lives. Only a few were spared. “I had a good tutor. How did you know about the vampire attack?”
“Before he died, my father worked for your grandfather as an archivist and was interested in the histories. Studied it at Sorbonne. The nature of Alor’s last company’s fate is not widely known. The battle was documented as an enemy victory, but Father said there were records of their camp being found littered with mutilated bodies, the snow streaked with red. By the time they were discovered, most of them were unidentifiable. Alor left behind a wife named Katella. At the time, your ancestor, the king, was betrothed to an earl’s daughter from France.” She gave a wry smile. “Guess who she was?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “An Ermengarde.”
Emma hummed in confirmation. “But the king instead became smitten with Katella after Alor’s death and called off his engagement with the earl’s daughter, forfeiting not only a high-profile marriage, but a chance at a strengthened relationship with the French crown. They were married within a month. After Geoffrey died, the duchy was then passed on to the Le Tallecs.”
Fascinated, Lilac peeked up through wisps of her hair; Garin’s chin was resting on his knuckle, his eyes trained on his plate.Did he know?
A prominent vein bulged at his temple, and she thought she saw his jaw flex. He no longer looked like he was enjoying her being down there with Emma and Rupert.
Alor had beenhisconstable.
“Enough of her.” Emma had followed her gaze to the table, then looked this way and that. Half of the crowd had dispersed to the feast tables and were chattering amongst themselves, the ale flowing freely now. Myrddin, Piper, Yanna, and Isabel swayed nearby to the pleasant song floating from the stringed instruments. “He doesn’t look like a man from Austria.”
“Mother,” groaned Rupert again, but she ignored him.
The way the countess looked at Garin was unsettling. “What do you mean? What does he look like?” Lilac tried to appear dismissive. “A Frenchman? A Breton?”
Emma leaned in. “My mother was a frivolous spirit at heart. Naturally she was devastated when father passed, but she was so young and never thought to let this stop her from enjoying herself. Shortly after, there was a friend she invited over. He was at the manor a couple of times after meeting him on her official travels. He had perfect manners, spoke several languages, and even played noddy and piquet with my sister and I once.” Emma dipped a finger into her flute and dripped it onto her tongue, and winked. “Mother had fine taste in her friends. You two know, don’t you?Friends?”
“My God,” said Rupert, slipping his arm in Lilac’s and tugging her away. This time, she was thankful he did. “That is far too much. Goodbye, Mother.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Emma laughed. But she waved them along, fanning herself.
Reeling, she allowed Rupert to drag her to the middle of the floor. She positioned herself so his back was to the head of the room, putting Garin right in her sight. She could barely stand to look at him, Emma’s words still haunting her—but she did so, anyway. Garin’s shoulders were quaking with laughter, his lips pursed together.
