Page 181 of Disillusioned
There was a shriek.
Marguerite stumbled into the room, knocking the door open. A flurry of voices could be heard downstairs, fading as her mother stepped in and softly shut the door. Pieces of her hair stuck out from beneath her towering wig, chest heaving as if she’d been running. “Good God, what on earth are you doing in here? Alone?”
Lilac steadied her. “Were you waiting outside?”
“Yes. I sent Yanna to get you when Riou and John came downstairs, but she said the door was locked. Not even the key would open it.” Marguerite fanned the air, the stemmed glass hooked in her other hand sloshing pale cider at their feet. “Why does it smell like the chapel in here? Did you have John run a private Liturgy for you?” When Lilac tried to sidestep her, Marguerite swung the glass dramatically before sipping from it, sweeping her back.
“Whatare you doing?”
Marguerite merely motioned to the scrap parchment and croissant tray left over from their meeting. “What did you need Riou for, anyway?”
“He knows the land. He’s the closest thing I have to an informant.What does it matter to you? The armorer isn’t here and neither is Father.” Lilac’s ears were burning, the panic of needing to find Garin clashing with her mother’s nerve to corner her for interrogation. “Were you listening in? Eavesdropping is an offense in our kingdom.”
Marguerite only laughed. “Prosecute me, then. Your father is preoccupied with his whims as he’s always been. I’ve done my due diligence in raising a single daughter. I—” Her mother trailed off, swaying and clutching the glass to her chest. “Whatever. Excommunicate me. Banish me, so that kind Sir Albrecht might whisk me away to Vienna.”
“It is the morning after a long night for everyone.” Lilac plucked the glass from between Marguerite’s fingers. “The least you can do is behave yourself.”
“Oh, please. Henri has spent many a night out among gamblers and wastrels. If my daughter can set some whores on fire, I am allowed a moment. Hedwig made it a point to lavish us in the courtyard.” Marguerite glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. “And I should advise you the same.”
“They are not whores. And they weren’t set on fire.” Lilac eyed Marguerite carefully. “Albrecht’s been very kind. He was apologetic about last night.”
“I’m sure he feels rightly forgiven, if not overly welcome. Did he at least enjoy himself at the brothel?”
Lilac’s face climbed in color.
Marguerite adjusted her shawl. “I am not here to cast stones. In this peculiar, extravagant life we’re born into, romance scarcely crosses paths with duty. There are futures we see for ourselves that never come to fruition because the monarchy holds greater plans, and so it is for our own sanity that we might learn the byways of law and expectation. I figured that out at a pitifully young age. Even then, they took what I most wanted.”
Lilac looked around, unsure of what to say. Her body was itching to move. “What was it?”
Marguerite wiped regretfully at her face. “It was a stupid whim. A pair of Spaniel pups showed up at our door one day, and my mother said we should keep them. So, we had beds made, bowls crafted. They even slept at the end of my bed. But in the winter, when Father returned from an excursion with Francis, he insisted they’d never allow them. He managed toconvince me, because the Le Tallecs oversaw our manor, that we’d answer to them if the furnishings and floors were ruined. So, I put them out in the snow.” Marguerite regarded her daughter with an irked scorn. “That old coat closet?Really?”
“Maybe you do need this.” Lilac handed Marguerite back the half-full glass. “I’m sorry, Mother. About your pups. I had no idea.”
“That hardly surprises me.”
Her mother had never been the type to give softness, not to her husband nor her daughter. It seemed she was also bad at receiving it. Neither had she been the type, now that Lilac thought about it, to show affection toward animals. The summer that the family of cats sought refuge in their bailey, Marguerite had refused to lounge in the courtyard, citing the feline infestation as the reason. Maybe she was a dog person.
“You were not one to speak of your childhood.”
“And you were never one to ask,” Marguerite said curtly. With that, it was clear whatever she had come to tell Lilac no longer mattered. The frost in her demeanor had returned, her cheeks and nose exceptionally red as she turned and adjusted her shawl. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Mother?”
Marguerite made a sound of impatience. “I haven’t got all morning. And neither do you.”
“When love and duty don’t align?—”
“Which, they won’t.” She gave Lilac a warning glance. “And I said nothing about love.”
“Ifromanceand duty don’t align, but one’s heart calls out for both, and there is no way to reconcile them… then, what does one do?”
Her mother gave a hapless shrug. “I am no fortune teller, Lilac.”
Lilac grabbed the doorknob before she could escape. “But I am your daughter, and you’ve lived half a life that I have not. It’s been your prerogative to strictly govern my education and deny me horse riding and self-defense lessons hoping to save your own minor reputation. It was never for me. It’s no secret that you detest the attention I have drawn.” Lilac swallowed, so irritated she couldn’t cry. “You might even hate the unfair circumstances that brought you to a life as consort, seeing how you and Father tolerate each other. You married into a life I was born into; I did not askfor it any more than you did. The least you can do is pretend torelateto me, or-or that you care.”
Marguerite’s scowl burned brighter with every word. Lilac thought she might strike her, but her mother’s expression faltered. “I do not lack the tact, the etiquette, and poise you do. I don’t have your stubbornness, or your gall. I was a girl who had everything and was promised a lavish life, willing to sacrifice anything to maintain it.Anything. You’re willing to lose it all in order to stand up for those creatures. You hesitate on the path of convenience presented to you that other monarchs would jump at. How could I possibly relate to you?” Marguerite’s bleary eyes turned piercing. “Which one scares you most? Choose that, and brace yourself for the consequences like I failed to. Life is filled with heartache, Lilac. Use some of that idiotic selfishness youdidinherit from me to your advantage, hm?” She swatted Lilac’s clammy fingers off the knob. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a garden party and a game of cricket to oversee. Oh, and please deal with that obnoxious witch seamstress of yours. She’s making a mess of my foyer as we speak.”
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