Last Life

Book 3: Interlude 4

Herouxville

New Capital

The de Gramont manor

“WELL, SISTER, WHAT DO YOU SAY?” Heinrich de Gramont asked when the footman trudging behind Renard left his field of view. The count already had a basic idea of what the bastard and his sons talked about when they ambushed him near the gallery entrance like a bunch of teens.

Renard and his caustic remarks had probably upset François again. Gabriel even had to hold his brother back.

The duchess, standing next to him at the window, snorted.

“He really reminds me of someone.”

“I noticed it, too. He’s the spitting image of Ferdinand.”

“Oh, no!” Jeanne du Bellay shook her head and, with an acrid smile, came: “I’m talking about you, brother.”

“Me?” Heinrich asked in surprise. The count was about to react indignantly, but somewhere deep in his heart, he found himself admitting that he actually appreciated the comparison for some reason. This brash kid, his wayward brother’s bastard, had held his own with surprising dignity today. Several orders of magnitude better than their previous encounter. And compared to his own sons, he was a vast improvement.

A shadow ran over Heinrich’s face.

The duchess, still smiling thoughtfully, gave a short nod.

“Yes, you. Ferdinand was never one for patience and restraint. He was easy to predict. But this bastard is far from transparent.”

“That’s what has me so worried,” Heinrich frowned. “Take his sudden reincarnation for example. Just one year ago, he was a sissy, a whiner... But now... He’s a new man.”

“Life has a way of doing that,” the duchess noted philosophically with a shrug. “Take your miraculous renaissance, for instance. Remember my first reaction when you, my little brother, quiet pushover Henri the Shrimp approached me with a plan to overthrow Ferdinand the Lion.”

Heinrich snorted. The darkness retreated somewhat.

“At the time, you said a demon had gotten into me.”

“See,” Jeanne du Bellay nodded. “Life has a way of doing that. He grew up and matured very quickly.”

“And became very dangerous,” the count muttered.

“Not to the family,” the duchess objected. “Who is he without us? You think he doesn’t realize that? Despite all his brashness, he knows his place very well, don’t you think?”

“Really?” Heinrich curled his lips. “What about his ultimatums? Give him his castle!?”

“That’s just more in favor of what I said,” Jeanne du Bellay objected again. “He’s giving a sign that he’s willing to play ball. And he’s naming his price up front.”

“But I already gave that manor to François,” the count winced.

The duchess shrugged.

“Give François your manor in the New Capital. You already moved in here, after all. It will make Catherine happy, as well. Because she’s crazy about her youngest.”

Heinrich gave a pensive snort and walked away from the window. Which kept him from seeing the mysterious smile on the duchess’s face as she squinted slightly and looked out at where her “new” nephew had walked just a few minutes before in his confident, animalistically lithe gait.