Last Life

Book 3: Chapter 21

I SIGHED AND LOOKED around. The people standing closest to us and listening to me talk with de Châtillon and his friends were already spreading what they heard through the room. And it moved outward like the rings around a pebble thrown into clear water.

“Brother, I need details,” the viscountess came in an impatient whisper. Meanwhile, her eyes were burning with excitement. She even puffed out her chest while all eyes focused on her.

My brief recounting of my meeting with de Châtillon and his friends only made her more worried. Her chest started heaving, while a triumphant smile lit up her face, which she deftly hid behind a fan.

Meanwhile, the more the “rings” spread, the more chattering nobles started casting curious glances our direction. And Valerie was clearly savoring the attention.

To an extent, I couldn’t blame her. After many months locked away in her uncle’s house — a hundred days of despair, hatred, humiliation, and reproach — the Viscountess de Gramont for the first time revealed the version of her I’d met two years earlier. A proud member of an ancient noble house.

“First de Lamar, now de Châtillon,” Valerie came with a sly smile when I finished my tale. “Had I not known all the finer points, I might have thought you were purposely hunting down Prince Heinrich’s top swordsmen.”

“Were that the case,” I shrugged, “the Viscount de Châtillon would probably not be attending this reception today.”

“In one way or another, you stirred up the ‘green’ swamp, and now Prince Heinrich will find out about you before the second dance is called,” Valerie came with a slight frown. “And by tomorrow morning, every last mutt in Herouxville will know, and laugh at the warrior prince’s vaunted favorites, who were unable to cope with an unknown chevalier. A traitor’s bastard to boot. Heinrich is cruel and vindictive. Beware of Baron von Herwart. He is sure to declare open season on you.”

“Most likely, yes,” I agreed and nodded at the princes, preening their vibrant plumage before the Marquess de Gondy like young roosters. “What if his highness Prince Heinrich doesn’t give a damn about some utterly unknown bastard. This evening, his attention has another, more interesting object. Prince Louis’, as well...”

My last words made Valerie shudder slightly and, frowning, turn her head where I pointed. I saw sadness and pity in her eyes as well as, seemingly, jealousy...

Perhaps my theories weren’t all that far off... Maybe the letters Valerie was writing me praising Prince Louis were not dictated by my aunt the duchess, but by the viscountess’s own feelings of love? Hmm... In that case, I sincerely pitied her.

But before Valerie could say anything, the Duchess du Bellay gave her signal, and the master of ceremonies declared a “Procession.” In line with Bertrand’s instructions, I already knew this dance was the standard opening number at Vestonian balls, and every guest was obliged to take part. After it, one could spend the entire evening lurking in the corner in silence leaning on a column or sitting at the card table, but missing the procession would mean insulting both the lady of the house and all other guests.

Because we as relatives of the duchess had no partners, I turned to Valerie with an elegant bow and asked delicately:

“Mademoiselle, would you please do me the honor of accepting this dance?”

Valerie reached out with her left hand, smiling, and we joined the dance-procession, which all the other guests had already started. Bertrand’s lessons, which were now on the level of muscle memory along with my own coordination, meant the movements of the unhurried and relatively simple dance came easily and freely.

My partner was experienced, which was why we quickly got a feeling for one another. I even smiled to myself when I remembered training with Bertrand. My valet invited a laundry woman up so I could practice a couple moves.

Josie, daughter of the head cook, was a long-time partner of Max back when he was a child then teen and knew almost every courtly dance she had been taught along with her young master.

As an aside, she was quite tense and clammed up during our first few sessions. She was clearly expecting her young master, like in days of old, to let his hands wander a bit and was seemingly already preparing to resist.

But time passed and, contrary to her fears, I behaved with delicacy and restraint. Beyond that, I tried in various ways to emphasize the distance between us which seemed to ignite the curiosity of both young Josie, and the other young laundry women in the castle.

Valerie’s cultured poise, unhurried, measured gait, and noble, refined curtseys drew attention from other men and women nearby. She sensed it and couldn’t blame them. She also liked it.

As an aside, while we danced, I caught intrigued and coquettish glances from Yveline’s friends even though just half an hour earlier, they had looked at me like I wasn’t even there.

Several times, I locked eyes with my cousin. Yveline smiled provocatively and sent me an approving wink. The “wave” had seemingly now reached her as well.

Watching her face glow with delight, I chuckled to myself. After all, she already knew de Châtillon and I had crossed blades. But she was still laughing and sending me frivolous winks. Yveline didn’t seem to care that one of the top swordsmen had challenged me to a duel and that I might die. Still, on the other hand, she and Valerie were little more than daughters of their time. The death of a nobleman in a duel here was a standard occurrence.

I got distracted from thinking about my relatives by a feeling someone was watching me. It was particularly hard to ignore. During the circle pas, I suddenly turned my head to meet eyes with Aurélie de Marbot, who was dancing with her brother.

She instantly looked away and a slight blush appeared on her face. At the very last moment, I noticed she was looking at me without particular affection. More like scorn, really.

Finally, the procession of the synchronically dancing couples stopped in deep bows and curtseys as the last chords played.

And just then, I was twenty steps from Prince Heinrich, who was trading bows with the Marquess de Gondy. Not too far from there, with a sour face, I saw Prince Louis trading bows with his partner.

For the entire duration of the dance, he was biting his lip and paying no mind to the woman in front of him, instead plaintively watching the gracious, soft movements of Blanca de Gondy, whose left hand was resting on his brother’s shoulder. Even the untrained eye could see that the Marquess de Gondy’s languishing looks falling on the blue prince, injured Prince Louis.

The elder brother saw the younger one’s suffering and, seemingly, was fueled by it. The green prince was apparently crazy for the Marchioness de Gondy, who as an aside, despite the fact she would soon be wed to Prince Philippe, flirted with Louis and Heinrich, clearly trying to spark a conflict between the brothers.

During a short break between dances, the Marquess de Hangest walked over to Prince Heinrich and started quickly whispering something into his ear. After that, both of them lifted their heads slightly and started looking around. At the last moment, de Hangest noticed me and said something to Heinrich.

I was purposely pretending to be distracted by the conversation with Valerie, so the prince and his crony de Hangest would think I didn’t see them. My sister turned out right — by the first dance, Prince Heinrich had been told I was there.

A few minutes later, the master of ceremonies declared a new dance and, before the orchestra started playing a new melody, three young nobles appeared next to Valerie.

She flitted off to dance with one of them while a footman appeared next to me.

“Her Grace would like to see you,” he said with a bow.

“Show me the way,” I nodded.

A little while later, accompanied by curious noble onlookers standing along the wall, I was led over to the Duchess du Bellay, who was standing with the brother and sister de Marbot.

“My dear nephew,” the duchess came. “I’d like to introduce you to the viscount and viscountess de Marbot.”

The Stone Lady, as before, was smiling welcomingly at me but the cold look in her eyes told me she already knew the full story and I was in for a serious conversation.

“It’s my honor to make your acquaintance,” I came with a bow.

Aurélie, who was diligently hiding her scorn for me, made an elegant curtsey. Her brother gave me a careless bow in reply and his lipless mouth splayed into an acrid smirk. He looked at me with his yellow eyes not so much as prey, but more like a little fly he was just about to swallow.

Up close, the viscount reeked even worse of blood and death. My instincts didn’t let me down. This half man half mutant had killed and mutilated someone just this morning.

After an exchange of short meaningless phrases with the de Marbot household, I bowed and turned to the viscountess:

“Mademoiselle, would you please do me the honor of accepting this dance.”

The viscountess extended her left hand and, just a few moments later, the pair of us started spinning between the dancing couples.

In accordance with the etiquette of the Leaf Dance, which the master of ceremonies had announced, the partners were dancing in so-called semi-closed positions. The gentleman’s left hand was placed on the tip of his sword, while his right went on the elbow of his partner. At the same time, the lady’s right hand laid upon the gentleman’s shoulder while the left held a fan in open position pointed slightly to one side. Heh... To my taste, this would all be a lot nicer and easier without the sword or fan.

Aurélie was an expert at moving her own body. I could feel the excitement and delight she was trying so diligently to keep hidden. She now looked like a bird who had escaped a golden cage but just for a moment. I was also aware that her partner was preventing her from fully enjoying the dance. And it wasn’t my bad dancing. On the contrary — Bertrand would have probably been proud of his student if he could have seen me just then. There was another issue. The viscountess found me distasteful not as a dancer but as a man. I was curious why. As far as I knew, she and Max had never crossed paths.

“Mademoiselle,” I came softly, bending slightly down to her ear. “Would you allow me to ask a question that’s been on my mind the whole last hour?”

Aurélie de Marbot gave a slight shudder in surprise but didn’t break her step.

“Of course, monsieur,” she replied shortly with a colorless voice.

“Would you care to tell me the reason you have such distaste for me?” I decided to be straightforward.

Aurélie seemed ready for the conversation so, wasting no time, she responded with a slight wryness in her voice:

“I suppose that after you announced your wish to ask my father for my hand in marriage just to settle an old dispute between our families, I should be overflowing with desire and maybe even love?”

Hm... Now this was interesting.

“Come now, mademoiselle,” I responded in kind. “I wasn’t even thinking it. But allow me to make a little quibble.”

“Was something I said untrue?” the viscountess’ thin brows shot up. “What can I say, chevalier? You have piqued my curiosity.”

“The fact is the reason I wish to be engaged to you is down to more than the age-old dispute between our noble families. I was also promised a barony by your father after.”

Laughing internally, I watched the viscountess’ eyes narrow menacingly, shifting from a light cornflower blue to a bright gray. She started to blush while her crimson lips closed tight.

“Well, monsieur,” she came coldly. “You have lived up to your reputation. It seems everything they say about you is the honest truth.”

“Curious,” I smiled. “And what is it they say about me?”

“Do you really want to know?” Aurélie clarified, raising her chin and boring into me with an angry look. “Okay, don’t mind if I do. They say you’re hot-tempered and all your disputes end in duels. And that you chase every skirt. A recent scandal with some actress also ended in a duel and the death of your opponent. And now that you’ve returned to the capital, you appear to be back to your old ways.”

And then, she looked at the silver wing on my chest. Aurélie’s lips curled in scorn.

“My grandfather was a member of the Order of the Silver Wing. Unlike you, he was a knight, and the most noble man I’ve ever met.”

The viscountess practically spat out the last sentence.

The music had long quieted down, and we stopped next to a column. The way it worked out, there was nobody next to us and no one to hear our conversation.

“You have my gratitude, mademoiselle,” I bowed and smiled. “Very informative.”

“Is that all?” she snorted. “You have nothing more to say?”

“Why should I?” I responded in the same tone. “The rumors about my duels are indeed true. And yes, some of my opponents are now dead. When it comes to reasons... I don’t know how the de Marbots do it, but the de Gramonts are taught to defend the honor of a lady even if she is a mere actress. You mentioned the distinction on my breast... I consider myself unworthy of such a high honor. I’m sure any nobleman in my place would have done what I did. Doubtless, your noble grandfather was a knight of the highest caliber. I’m certain your brother inherited his ancestor’s good nature, which you claim not to see in me.”

The last thing I said seemed to take the earth out from beneath the viscountess’ feet. She went pale, and a shadow of fear and, seemingly, despair flashed in her eyes for a brief moment. But just as quickly, Aurélie de Marbot went back to her old self.

“Monsieur,” she came coldly. “I kindly request you bring me back to my brother.”

Walking in silence along the wall, we crossed nearly half the room when the master of ceremonies again stepped forward to announce a dance, but suddenly fell silent. His gaze was trained on Prince Heinrich, who stopped him with a gesture.

Silence dominated the ballroom. Everyone there was staring at the king’s sons.

“Madame!” Prince Heinrich said loudly with a mysterious smile to the Duchess du Bellay standing at his side. “I hope you won’t be opposed if I make a small alteration to your dance program? The atmosphere here is a bit grim for my taste. I’m simply positive that everyone will like it!”

“Your highness,” the duchess made a deep curtsey. Not a single sinew on her “stone” face moved. “It would be all of our greatest honor.”

“Then it’s decided!” Prince Heinrich exclaimed with a broad smile and conspiratorial wink at the immediately dejected Prince Louis. “I declare a Sword Dance!”

A wave of excitement swept the ranks of the nobility. A few of the greens appeared fearful. But Heinrich’s people seemed happy.

“But Your Highness,” the duchess tried to object. “That is a highly technical dance. It requires special accessories which I, alas, do not have.”

“Don’t you worry about that, madame,” Prince Heinrich responded, continuing to smile. “By happy coincidence, we have enough accessories for all. Hey, whoever’s out there! Bring it all in!”

The ballroom doors flung open, and Prince Heinrich’s footmen dragged in a bundle of wooden swords and two plump silver pots.

Pulling two swords from the bundle with small canvas sacks on their tips, Prince Heinrich raised them over his head and declared loudly:

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we will not be hosting a slaughter with real weapons like our forebearers did! And that is not the only change!”

Heinrich walked over to the pots the footmen placed on the floor and threw the tips of each wooden blade into one. A moment later, he showed everyone that the canvas tips had been painted blue and green.

“We have precisely twenty swords, gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “We need two teams! Green and blue!”

Turning to Prince Louis, he asked loudly:

“Brother, would you be opposed to having me select the first dancer for your team?”

Prince Louis breathed a heavy sigh and waved a hand fatedly.

“Of course not, my brother.”

This dance seemed to involve some kind of stand-off, and Louis was clearly not confident the greens could win.

“Thank you, brother,” Heinrich said with a sly smile and, while everyone looked on in silence, he turned suddenly and, with a wide gait, came directly toward where I and the Viscountess de Marbot were standing.

A few moments later, Prince Heinrich stopped opposite me. In his dark eyes, I saw a sort of sneering anticipation.

“Chevalier, I’ve heard you are quite handy with a blade. I’m sure you’ll be a big fan of this dance.”

After saying that, while the others looked on with burning anticipation, he extended me a green sword.