Last Life

Book 3: Chapter 15

THAT MORNING, I announced to Jacques that I had rethought riding on horseback, and that he should prepare a carriage for an evening ride.

Noticing a strange look in the veteran’s eye, I asked,

“Is something the matter?”

“It’s none of my concern, monsieur...” he replied and fell silent.

“Tell me,” I sighed. “Don’t draw it out...”

“It may come across as rude...” Jacques made one last attempt to get out of it.

“We’re wasting time...” I said, pointedly taking out my pocket watch. “And since when have you been concerned about courtesy with me?”

Jacques frowned. Then, coughing into his fist, he finally worked up the courage.

“I understand this Adeline Beauchard, sister of your late mother... She is your blood aunt... And she is a member of the family, but she made an attempt on your life...”

“You suggesting we solve the problem of my aunt the quick and quiet way?” I snorted, running my right thumb across my throat evocatively.

“That isn’t what I said,” Jacques replied, but I could read approval for the idea in his eyes.

“Let’s say we do,” I nodded. “I won’t argue it would be quick, but I have my doubts about the quiet part...”

“Are you saying you forgot how to move around without making noise?” Jacques gave a sidelong smirk.

“That isn’t it,” I waved it off. “The sudden death of Adeline Beauchard, daughter of a merchant of the golden guild would raise a lot of ruckus. Even if we made it all look like an accident, my grandfather would try to dig down to the truth. Pascal Legrand is the kind of person who finds it very important to be completely certain about things. Especially the reason for his daughter’s sudden passing. He will surely hire the best investigators, including ones with a magic gift, and they will fairly quickly uncover many curious aspects.”

“Hm... Vivienne Leroy,” Jacques nodded, rubbing his chin in thought.

“And Betty Gilbert,” I continued. “And those are just the ones we know about. Vivienne or Betty probably shared that information with more people. I for one told you and Bertrand as well as the Count de Gramont and Duchess du Bellay. Honestly, I didn’t give them any names, but they know already that de Lamar was being paid to kill me.”

Jacques croaked in annoyance and glanced at me. I could read a clear question in his eyes.

“Do you want to ask what made me do that?” I snorted. “It was all simple. Sometimes, I like to handle things the lawful way. Preferably, we can keep it all in the family. If I acted differently, investigators would very quickly come after me. I have clear motivation to get rid of my aunt.”

“There are many ways of doing that which make it impossible to prove anything.”

“Without a doubt,” I agreed. “But in one way or another, the details of this nasty story would surely become a topic of societal discussion, and then my already dubious and contradictory reputation would be at an end. Now, I am just the bastard of a traitor, an enemy of the king, but a man executed as a noble. I partially repaid my father’s sins with my service on the frontier and came back to the capital with a silver wing on my chest. But as soon as word started swirling around all the high houses that I was a suspect in the murder of my aunt, all my plans and wishes would come to a close. I’d be treated like a leper.”

Jacques shook his head thoughtfully. “So, let’s take the long route.”

I nodded. “Good point.”

* * *

I went to the meeting with my “doting” grandfather in my own buggy. Bertrand rode next to Jacques, who was driving his new plaything with unhidden satisfaction. Before sitting in the buggy, I noticed a sour look on my valet’s face. By all appearances, when he went to the Legrands’ home to discuss my visit, he was told a pack of vile things about me. But he got the job done. Pascal Legrand had agreed to meet with me. He couldn’t say no to an old friend. And that was what he was supposed to do.

I tried to get Bertrand talking, but the old man stubbornly kept silent or reluctantly let slip a few generic phrases. He clearly didn’t want to upset me. Ah, pure soul! If only you knew who had gotten into your master’s body...

When we left the gates, I could sense the still unknown people watching me, as was now normal. I had not taken any active countermeasures, and they stuck to mere observation. It wasn’t yet time to meet their paymaster.

The Legrand manor was located in the Northern Quarter of the New Capital. It was popularly known as the Merchant Quarter, and it was no wonder why.

“Woah!” I whistled as I got out of the carriage and saw a big huge three-story palace. This behemoth made my uncle’s manor seem like a cramped little garden shed. And my tiny castle wasn’t even worth mentioning. Most likely, maintenance for a home of this magnitude required a whole army of servants.

“Your grandfather is a merchant of the golden hundred,” Bertrand came pointedly.

As an aside, no one had given me a concrete explanation of what this “golden hundred” even was. All I had been able to figure out was that it was a merchant guild of some kind, and membership in it could only be secured by meeting certain conditions. And one of them was possession of a massive fortune. I was still foggy on the particulars of what they actually did. But sooner or later, I would figure it out.

At the front entrance, we were greeted by a footman who told us with a stone-faced expression that I should proceed to the garden. And as an aside, I was also told to bring Bertrand. I traded glances with the old man. Excellent! All the better. The old man could keep me abreast of who was who. I told Jacques to stay with the buggy as Bertrand and I followed the footman.

While walking the length of the house, I felt someone boring into me with a gaze so persistent it sent shivers down my spine. As if I was being watched through a set of crosshairs. I then, not turning my head, glanced over at the windows to see a woman’s shadow on the second floor. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out this was the way Adeline Beauchard had chosen to greet me.

If my aunt was now inside, this meeting would take place without her. Too bad... I wouldn’t be able to provoke her in front of my grandfather. Oh well, I couldn’t do too much at once. I wasn’t expecting much from the visit. I had to test the waters first.

When we came around the corner of the building, I no longer sensed anyone watching me. Once around the palace, we made our way to an internal garden with a wide pond in the middle. On the banks of that pond, beneath the boughs of an old willow there was a hidden gazebo. And inside of it, two people were seated at a round table.

“That is your grandfather and blood aunt Isabelle Legrand,” Bertrand informed me in a soft voice, recalling my “amnesia.”

Hm... So, here he was. The very Pascal Legrand Bertrand had told me so much about. Despite his sixty-two years, he still looked young. Tough, wiry. As an aside, Max bore no resemblance to his grandfather or aunt. The father and daughter both shared an aquiline profile, making them look like a pair of hawks ready to swoop down on an unsuspecting bunny rabbit. And that was doubtlessly just how they thought of me.

These were the two people who, despite its name, called the shots at the Legrand and Sons trading house. Pascal’s two sons then, in Bertrand’s words, were wimps, chumps, and effete to boot. Like all the Legrands, they also played a part in their father’s trading empire, but they were never trusted with any level of responsibility.

Essentially, over the last few years, most of the family business’ administration had been overtaken by Isabelle Legrand. And everyone was perfectly fine with that.

Isabelle was cruel and uncompromising. Everyone in the family was scared of her except Pascal, of course. But nobody saw her as a threat to lay claim to the trading house’s inheritance. By local standards, at age thirty-six, she was an old maid. No husband, no children to call her own. And seemingly none on the way. Her life was her father’s business. Her motto was, “The Legrand business must endure and multiply.” That was why she reacted so furiously to the old Max writing her to request money.

While Bertrand and I walked over, the pair were closely watching my every move and discussing something too softly to hear. I’d have bet my hand, based on the way their lips were curled into smirks of scorn, that I was the topic of discussion.

Walking up a couple of steps, we made it into the wide gazebo, stopping opposite the table Max’s relatives were seated at.

“I am delighted to greet you, esteemed grandfather and beloved aunt,” I came calmly and bowed with respect.

“Ah, my grandson is here!” Pascale Legrand chuckled angrily, winking at his daughter who had no reaction to my greeting whatsoever. “Let me guess... You’re here to beg for money again?”

Turning his head toward his daughter, he gave a malicious laugh and asked:

“Isa, what do you say? I’d bet my house this insolent little fellow is here to beg for his share of the inheritance again.”

Isabelle wanted to respond, but I jumped in ahead.

“Dear aunt, I insist you bet a large amount,” I came with a calm smile. “I promise you’ll win.”

A dead silence fell over the gazebo. Both Legrands looked at me perplexed, as if seeing me for the first time.

“As for my visit,” I continued. “I have indeed come to ask a favor.”

Pascal Legrand’s eyes lit up in triumph while the previously curious looking Isabelle shifted to an expression of slight scorn.

“And what do you want?” Pascal laughed.

“I would like permission to visit the Legrand family crypt to do something I should have done a long time ago,” I replied, and took a small scroll inscribed with a prayer for the departed Bertrand had acquired for me in the temple of the Most Luminous Mother, and which by local custom was left next to the resting place of a late relative. “I would like permission to visit my mother’s crypt.”

The more I said, the more my grandfather and aunt’s faces went long in surprise. But slowly, the looks on their faces started to change. And whereas Isabelle’s eyes again flickered with interest, Pascal Legrand now looked darker than a storm cloud.

“You think you can just show up here for the first time in twenty years and announce you wish to visit Anna’s grave as a way of moving me to pity?” Pascal asked in an icy tone. “You think I’m stupid enough not to recognize your pathetic attempt at manipulation? Remember this! You have never been part of this family and you never will be!”

I snorted to myself. What an odd little hang-up to still blame Max for Anna’s death. How could a newborn be to blame for anything? Or was there something I didn’t know?

Actually, it was high time I set him straight.

“If I am not a member of the Legrand family, then why are you conducting negotiations in my name with Thomas Gilbert about my engagement to his daughter?” I asked unflappably.

That made Isabelle Legrand shudder and stare at her father in bafflement. Pascal Legrand intended to continue pushing his speech, but suddenly choked and winced.

“Father?” Isabelle spoke up for the first time. Her voice was surprisingly rich and velvety.

Pascal breathed a heavy sigh, closed his eyes, and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“I knew that conversation would come back to bite me...” he muttered.

“Is it true?” Isabelle said in even greater surprise. “But then I don’t understand a thing...”

“There’s nothing for you to understand, daughter,” Pascal Legrand threw out and quickly got himself back together. “And yes, it is true. But only by half... Thomas Gilbert came to me with the idea of marrying his Betty to this man.”

He said, nodding at me.

“The Thomas Gilbert?” Isabelle asked. I suddenly seemed to see my aunt’s eyes light up. She seemed to even be happy to hear the news. “The main supplier of wine to all the noble households in Vestonia?”

“Yes,” Pascal winced as if he’d just bitten into a sour plum. “We’re old acquaintances.”

“Hm... First I’m hearing of it,” Isabelle came with yet greater surprise.

“And you never should have,” the old man snorted. “Our interests never intersected.”

“Until recently.” my aunt snorted back, nodding pointedly at me.

“No,” Pascal threw out. “We still have no shared business with the Gilberts! Because I told Thomas that I have no relationship with Chevalier Renard, and he has none with the Legrand family!”

Silence fell after that. Isabelle never again tried to ask questions, but by the look on her face, I could tell that she was going to come back to the topic. I caught her looking at me pensively at times.

Bertrand was first to break the silence. He took a little step forward and came pleadingly:

“Pascal, I beg of you, allow him... He...”

I stopped him from finishing. Placing a hand on the old man’s shoulder, I said softly:

“No, my friend, I can take care of myself.”

I saw Pascal’s face start to flood with red after that.

“Friend?” he said angrily through clenched teeth. “How dare you, little bastard, call him a friend after everything you’ve put him through! Do you think I don’t know how much humiliation you’ve subjected him to over the years?!”

The old man seemed about to spew all his frustrations out on me. His jaw muscles tensed in his temples, and his knuckles went white.

“Such is the fate of a slave, handed from master to master like an object,” I came in an even tone, paying no attention to Legrand’s flare up. “But now Bertrand is a free man and follows me of his own free will. And as a free man, he has given me permission to call him a friend.”

Well, that was it. Guts or glory. Today’s meeting went even better than expected. It was only too bad my other aunt wasn’t there.

While Pascal Legrand sat with his mouth slightly open in puzzlement, digesting what I’d said, I took off my tricorn and gave a deep bow of respect.

“Messieurs, I see my visit has come to a close. I hope you give my request some consideration. It’s been an honor.”

Saying that, I turned on my heels and headed back toward my buggy. Bertrand followed me in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I was watching his expression. He seemed to like the last thing I said.

When we were past the front entrance to the house, the door opened and, on the step, appeared a boy of thirteen or fourteen. Not particularly tall, gaunt, black hair and a distinctive hawkish profile.

“Wait!” he cried unexpectedly and came running my way.

“That is Alain Beauchard,” Bertrand furtively told me. “Son of...”

“Adeline Beauchard,” I finished for him.

“Yes,” the old man nodded. “As far as I know, this is your first meeting.”

When the kid ran up to me, his cheeks had a faint glow, and a big smile danced on his lips.

“My mom told me you’re aunty Anna’s son!” he exclaimed. “Is that true? Oh!”

The kid stumbled and clapped his forehead, then gave a bow:

“Excuse my manners, chevalier. My name is Alain Beauchard. I am...”

“My cousin,” I came back with a big smile, responding with a bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Alain. You can call me Max.”

Hm... Surprising. This was the first of Max’s relatives to greet him with a smile. Well, not exactly... There was also Yveline, but she had her own agenda.

The kid smiled even bigger, and suddenly his eye caught on the silver wing on my chest. His black brows shot up, and his lower jaw dropped.

“But... But... Is that a Silver Wing of Strix?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, good cousin,” I nodded.

“But how did you get it?!” Alain asked in astonishment.

I chuckled.

“It was given to me by the Marquess de Crépon, mayor of Toulon.”

“The city where Westerly Fort is located?” Alain asked enthusiastically. “Cousin, did you serve in the Shadow Patrol?”

“Indeed,” I replied.

“Oh gods!” he exclaimed in delight. “My cousin is a hero! A cavalier of the Order of the Silver Wing of Strix! And I’m only finding out about him today!? Shame on me! Have you ever seen shadow beasts, cousin?”

I seemed to have crossed paths with a Shadow fan.

“I have even fought them,” I nodded and, smiling, took the final wolf claw from my pocket. “Here, this is a gift for you to remember our first meeting.”

He accepted the claw as if it were some kind of relic. Alain was even slightly shivering with the feelings overflowing from him.

“You have my gratitude, cousin!” he came hotly. “I...”

But before he could finish, a woman’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. My dear aunt... She looked nothing like her father or sister. I got the feeling she took after her mother.

“Alain!” she called her son with a slight agitation. “Time to come to the table!”

“Yes, of course!” Alain shouted.

Bidding me a warm farewell and thanking me again for the gift, the kid raised the claw over his head and ran off to his mother. As he ran, we locked eyes. Her black little eyes bore so much hate. She was also slightly afraid. After all, her son had just been standing next to her sworn enemy.

Removing my hat, I bowed and gave an ominous smile.