#alwayscalculating

He stared solemnly at the Chancelier, his dark eyes knowing, piercing. A few years back Alexandre may have enjoyed such a guessing game, but he was older now and wiser. “Was it Lady Lola?” 

Winning the game wasn’t nearly as important as testing Lord Narcisse. He’d seen the way Narcisse looked at Maman. Once or twice, Alexandre had even happened on him in her chambers. Never had there been anything his governess would call ‘unseemly’, nothing he could put into words, but he was sensitive enough to notice the change in their relationship. But then why had he been with Mary’s lady?

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The moonlight shone through the window in the nursery as Lola rocked her son to sleep, singing softly a song that her mother sang to her as a child. Being a single mother wasn’t quite as hard as she thought it would be; Francis was heavily involved as a father. But sometimes he seemed to be too involved; picking and choosing who could and could not court her, since he was, after all, the king.

“She’s just got a little spirit,” He replied, slowly climbing to his feet, “That’s good.” Alty couldn’t help but smile when she saw him. It wasn’t love, not like what she’d had with Rhylio, full of passion and trust, but she understood him. He understood her. It made what she’d be asking easier. 

“Take a break, for just a moment, Stéphane. I need to speak with you.” Alty motioned to a smooth, flat stone, her smile tight-lipped. Stéphane wiped his trousers off as he approached, his face impossible to read, as usual. That face was always calculating some sort of benefit. “I want you to go if the tide turns against us.” She started before he’d even sat down, looking away. “This isn’t your fight, nor is it your men’s. However much we need you, I can’t go to my death knowing I led innocent men to their deaths.” The words were impossible for her to stomach saying, but she had to. His life couldn’t be given for her cause. 

“I--” 

“We had a deal, but I don’t care. Take your men, your horses, and take the babies the moment it looks like we might lose. Stéphane...I can’t take you from your lands, nor can I take you from your sons. Just...if I die, care for little Constance and Rouen.” She didn’t notice the tears that trailed down her cheeks, as she tore her own heart in two again. Suddenly silence was deafening, and Alty squeezed her eyes shut to keep his face from her sight. 

@alwayscalculating

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