Last Life

Book 5: Chapter 23

THE DE GRAMONT FAMILY’S costumes were just as bright and variegated as those of the other guests. Despite his financial problems, my uncle seemed to have shelled out quite a bit on costumes and masks. Although Max’s sister looked noticeably less fancy than her cousins did.

The latter were dressed in armor made to imitate that of legendary stryker heroes; it gleamed with gold and was covered with gemstones to imitate bruts. Very skilled craftsmanship. From a distance, it actually looked real.

Based on his hawk mask, Heinrich de Gramont himself had chosen to come as Tarren, the god of wisdom and time. Locals usually portrayed this god as a man with the head of a hawk, who flew high above the earth to observe everything that was happening there. The hawk’s head symbolized his all-seeing eyes and his understanding of the mysteries of eternity.

I snickered and shook my head. My reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s so funny?” Blanca de Gondy asked.

“My dear uncle’s costume,” I admitted.

“Why?” She seemed curious. “I have to say, the guise of Tarren suits Heinrich de Gramont now more than it ever could have before.”

Per protocol for balls of this sort, the organizers always had a full list of guests, complete with the characters each guest planned to play during the ball.

Blanca continued:

“My father has spoken of the count as a level-headed and intelligent man.”

“And nevertheless, my uncle’s given his preference to the Duke de Bauffremont.” I decided to test the waters a little bit.

“You mean Prince Phillipe,” Blanca corrected me. I noticed her eyes narrow behind the slits in her mask. “Red doesn’t signify support for the Duke de Bauffremont. It’s my future husband’s color.”

“You’re right, my goddess,” I said with a bow of the head; then, with a light sigh, I added: “Your future husband...”

The waving of her fan grew quicker. Then the fan froze for a second, and Blanca’s eyes focused themselves on me with a look of intense suspicion. An instant later, however, and there wasn’t so much as a trace of this displeasure on her face anymore. She had finally found an explanation for my behavior. Which was precisely what I’d been trying to achieve.

“Monsieur, don’t you dare get jealous!” She gave indignant voice to her conclusion. Her eyes glimmered playfully as she spoke. “You understand perfectly well that this wedding is a political necessity.”

I replied with another silent bow of the head, feigning acceptance and submission to her pronouncement, but I still didn’t neglect to let out another disappointed sigh. The result was another rapturous glance from the marchioness. It seemed like the kind of look you might see on the face of a horse trainer when they finally managed to subdue a difficult charger.

After thoroughly enjoying a look at her “resigned admirer,” the Marchioness changed the subject:

“And anyway — you never finished. What’s so funny about the Count de Gramont’s costume?”

“Did you play the game “choose your animal” as a kid?” I asked.

“Of course!” Blanca replied cheerfully. With a hint of pride in her voice, she added: “My first card was the “Golden Panther.”“

“Oh, that explains a lot!” I added a little bit of excitement into my voice. The Marchioness rewarded me with a devilish smile. “Anyway... My dearly beloved uncle chose the “Mantis Shrimp.”“

“That’s not one of the cards,” Blanca objected immediately. “There’s only the shrimp...”

I just shrugged silently as I waited for her to digest what I’d said.

“Wait...” Blanca seemed to have caught on. “So he drew the shrimp!”

“Exactly,” I smiled. “Henri the Shrimp — that was his nickname in childhood.”

Blanca’s fan started waving more rapidly again. The Marchioness burst into quiet laughter.

“My father’s going to love that story,” she said, still giggling. “And yes, you’re right... If you know about that nickname, he looks ridiculous as Tarren.”

Folding up her fan, Blanca slapped it lightly against my chest.

“But your costume fits you like a glove! The Master of Shadows, weaving his intrigues! How am I going to talk to the Count de Gramont after this? I’ll have to spend the whole time trying not to laugh! By the way...”

Blanca leaned in a little closer to me.

“Which card did you draw first?”

I just shrugged and answered:

“I didn’t. I never played that game as a kid. I didn’t have anyone to play with... Neither of my parents’ families accepted me. And by the time that changed, I was already too old for games.”

Max had almost certainly played “choose your animal,” but I wasn’t too interested in finding out what card he’d drawn. If I had to guess, it was probably a slug or a cockroach.

“Oh!” Blanca’s eyes flashed. “We’ll have to play it sometime! I want to see what animal you get. Promise me you won’t play it without me.”

“I promise,” I replied.

“I’m sure you’re going to get some kind of dangerous predator,” she said.

“You think?”

“No doubt about it!” Blanca answered immediately; with a nod at a tall young man walking past us, who was dressed as the “Bastard Sword,” she added: “What else would be appropriate for a soldier of the Order of the Silver Wing, the Hero of the Northland? It has to be a predator!”

Just then, two young women in colorful masks rushed over to the Marchioness, and one of them whispered something quickly into her ear. Listening intently, she nodded, and then with a quick curtsey she said:

“I’m going to have to say goodbye, Lord of Mysteries. Remember your promise...”

I bowed in reply, and was once again on my own. But not for very long. “Lady Serenna” was already hurrying toward me.

“Brother!” She said quietly. Valerie was obviously on the edge of a nervous breakdown, but trying not to show it to people around her. “Please! Don’t abandon me to him!”

I offered her my arm, which she immediately snapped into a death grip, the way a drowning person would grab onto a floating log. In no particular hurry, we walked along the walls and out into the fresh air.

There was a garden with fountains and carefully-manicured bushes. There was a holiday atmosphere outside, too: music playing, couples strolling along, circus performers juggling all sorts of multicolored balls. A gibbous moon shone in the night sky, complemented by hundreds of torches all around the garden.

“Take your mask off for a moment,” I said to Valerie (it was more of an order, actually) when we reached the shadow of some trees.

There was nobody around. So I took my mask off as well.

“Take a deep breath. Good... Now breathe out. And do that a couple more times.”

Without a word of objection, Valerie did everything I told her to do. And it seemed to help her calm down just a little bit.

“Now tell me. Who, exactly, should I not abandon you to?”

“That monster!” Valerie squeaked. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, which she quickly soaked up with the tip of a handkerchief; she already had a master’s touch when it came to doing this. “Émile the Toad! Our uncle told me today that if you don’t come to your senses and submit to his will, he’s going to give me in marriage to that monster! But I can also tell that uncle and Émile are planning something against you. You can’t agree to this betrothal...”

She said the last phrase with complete conviction, even though my departure virtually guaranteed that she would be condemned to torture. It was hard to think of another word that accurately described the prospect of being married to Émile de Marbot.

Susanna had dug up a lot of dirt on that sick freak for me. A rap sheet worthy of old Brima and her pack combined.

“You understand, of course, why uncle told you that, and why he did so right before the ball?” Lifting up Valerie’s chin gently, I looked straight into her eyes. “He’s trying to manipulate you. He wants you to put pressure on me.”

“Yes, brother,” said Valerie with a heavy sigh. “I know...”

“So remember what I promised you,” I said.

“You promised to protect me...” Valerie said quietly, before suddenly reaching out to give me a hug. Which only confirmed that I had made the right choice of words.

If uncle Heinrich were to catch sight of us now, I thought, he’d be satisfied. He’d think his manipulations were bearing fruit.

I patted Valerie on the back, trying to calm her down a little more. Max’s sister seemed very fragile just then. Just like our first meeting, she seemed to radiate the smell of oriental flowers. My touch made her flinch slightly, but then she squeezed me even tighter.

Finally, she stepped back, and with a quick up-and-down glance at me, she noted:

“You seem taller. You’re wider in the shoulders. And that costume...”

“My chef is fattening me up for the slaughter,” I smiled, and then added: “I see you’re feeling a little better. Try to have some fun. It’s a masquerade, after all. Leave the rest to me.”

“What are you thinking?” Valerie asked. Hope burned in her eyes.

“You’ll see soon enough,” I replied. “By the way, are the de Marbots here?”

“Probably, by now,” she shrugged; she put her mask back on her face, then added: “Yveline already told me all about them. Émile’s coming as Zeptis, Aurélie as Limnora.”

“Symbolic,” I chuckled as I pulled my mask onto my own face. “The horrible lizard god and his beautiful nyad sister.”

“Yveline said that the Count de Marbot spared no expense on his children’s costumes,” Valerie added for some reason.

I smiled, but she didn’t notice it beneath my mask. The Count de Marbot... Of course... As far as I knew, Émile had locked his old father in his rooms, just as if he were in prison. The Viscount de Marbot had been in charge of the county’s finances for a long time.

We returned to the hall right at the moment when a dance was ending.

“Our aunt’s already here,” Valerie nodded at the Duchess du Bellay, who was standing at the center of a group of women. “She’s come as the goddess of balance, Liviona.”

I already knew about our aunt’s costume. She and I notified each other in advance, just like Valerie and I did.

Judging by the acid notes in Valerie’s voice, she was angry at our aunt.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“This is all her fault,” Valerie hissed quietly. “I heard her trying to convince uncle to marry me to Émile instead of your betrothal.”

As if she could hear us, the Duchess turned to look at us right at that moment. She beckoned me over with her fan.

“Sister,” I said before walking off toward the Duchess. “Remember what I told you.”

“Okay, brother,” Valerie answered, and then turned to walk off in the opposite direction.

“Madame,” I said as I bowed in front of the Duchess. “I see you’ve made a full recovery.”

“It’s all thanks to you, my boy,” my aunt replied in a quiet voice. Stepping in closer, she added: “The potions you sent me are working wonders. I feel like I’ve grown ten years younger. You say you acquired them up north? If you’ve got more, I’d happily buy them all from you.”

“Come now, my dear aunt,” I replied just as quietly. “I’m going to send you as many as you need, and of course they’ll be free of charge.”

“Ah, my boy,” the Duchess shook her head. “You’re truly a treasure.”

I could only chuckle in my head when I heard her say this. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago that Max was holed up in Abbeville, and somehow he completely slipped her mind during that time. I wondered, just then — how soon would she sell me out if the necessity arose? She didn’t even spare her own brother. Or his sons. She could tell herself whatever she wanted, but there was no way she could have been unaware of the fate that awaited her nieces and nephews.

“Heinrich is adamant,” she said, and then hurriedly added: “But I found a way out of this whole situation!”

“Does it involve betrothing Valerie to Émile de Marbot?” I asked sarcastically.

A shadow of suspicion flitted across the Duchess’ eyes.

“So the girl was eavesdropping on my conversation with Henri... Am I wrong?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “But that’s not a solution. Giving my sister to Émile means throwing her to the wolves. And anyway, why would you want your great-nieces and nephews to be monsters? If you have any in the first place, that is.”

“So you believe the rumors?” She scoffed.

“Not rumors,” I shook my head. “Facts.”

“What have you found out?” The Duchess leaned in.

“Not much, but it’s enough to permanently cross the Viscount de Marbot off the list of potential suitors for your niece.”

“Oh, gods!” The Duchess sighed quietly. Her chest began to heave with anxiety. “So it’s true what they say...”

Suddenly, however, she regained her composure and quietly stated:

“When I said I have a way out, I didn’t mean betrothing Valerie.”

“Oh no?” I asked.

“I want to adopt you!” There was a ceremonial tone to the Duchess du Bellay’s voice. “I’ll go to the king and ask him to allow it. His Majesty will surely give his assent.”

He won’t, I thought. The king has other plans for your nephew, Madame. Out loud, however, I said:

“How does the head of the du Bellay family feel about this? Your late husband’s brother? I doubt he’d be happy about taking in your traitor brother’s bastard. Even if, by some miracle, the king and the current Duke du Bellay both give their assent, I really doubt that they would give me any rights to go along with it. And who could guarantee that the duke wouldn’t do the same thing uncle Heinrich is doing right now, once he accepts me into the family?”

The Duchess’ excitement died down. It seemed like she had probably been thinking the same thing for some time.

“Then you’re going to need to leave this palace and the capital immediately,” she said darkly. “And not come back until things quiet down here.”

“No, my dear aunt,” I shook my head. “Solving that problem is now up to me.”

“Maximilian...” She began anxiously as she laid a hand on my wrist. It was almost like she was physically trying to stop me.

“Don’t worry,” I said, laying my own hand on top of hers. “For better or for worse, everything’s going to be decided today.”

It seemed that such was my task for the day — calming everybody down. Although to be honest, Max’s sister and aunt were both more worried about themselves than they were about me. Valerie wanted to get out of an extremely undesirable betrothal, while the Duchess didn’t want to lose a useful gifted person.

After bidding farewell to the Duchess, I walked off further into the hall. Before I started making moves, I would need to speak with one more person.

I found Heinrich de Gramont on one of the balconies. He was standing in the shadows, holding a glass of wine. His mask lay on the wide stone edge of one of the balustrades.

The count was standing with his back halfway turned toward me. His face seemed to have been carved from stone. Emotionless and ice-cold. The only clue to his mood was the fact that his eye would twitch to the side whenever an especially loud noise burst out in the hall.

Heinrich de Gramont obviously didn’t like being in this place. The joyful shouts, the loud, happy music, the many-voiced laughter. My guess was that Max’s father had probably been the polar opposite of his younger brother in this respect.

Heinrich heard my steps and turned around. We exchanged bows in silence.

“Whom do I have the honor of addressing?” He asked in a dry, emotionless tone.

“Good evening, uncle,” I said as I removed my mask.

His eyebrows rose slightly.

“Ah, so it’s you?” His tone suggested nothing but distaste. “What do you want? If you’ve come to ask me to reverse my decision again, I can tell you right now that the answer is no. Everything has been decided.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I shook my head. “I know that would be pointless. You’ve made your choice.”

“Exactly.” Heinrich interpreted my words in his own way. “You’ve finally come to your senses. Soon, you’ll be a baron, with a rich, beautiful wife. What more could you dream of? After all, you once asked me about this very thing. Have you really forgotten how you begged me, on your knees, to arrange a future for you before you were sent off to Abbeville? And now I’ve done exactly that. Where’s your gratitude?”

“That Max no longer exists,” I said; strictly speaking, this was the truth.

“But I haven’t changed,” replied Heinrich, once again having interpreted my words in his own way. “And I’m still in charge of this family. Your father almost destroyed our line. If I hadn’t — “

“Betrayed my father.” I finished his sentence for him. Heinrich looked as though he’d just been slapped in the face.

“How dare you?!” The count’s stone mask cracked, revealing the enraged, evil man beneath. “You — “

“What I say is true and you know it.” I was looking him icily in the eyes as I spoke, and all pretense of respect was gone from my voice. “You betrayed your own blood. You killed your own nephews. You broke the spirits of your nieces. You sent your own brother’s wife to an insane asylum. And don’t tell me you did it all for the sake of the king.”

I sneered contemptuously.

“You console yourself with the thought that you saved your line, but you don’t realize that you’ve brought a curse onto your family. You and your sons will henceforth live with the brands of traitors. Who among the higher aristocracy would ever want to conduct business with a man who betrayed his own brother? Are you really so blind that you don’t see that? You speak of loyalty so often, but you betray your own allies like a rat running from one hole to another.”

Heinrich’s eyes were bulging. He seemed to be trying to pour all the poison inside him out onto me, but the words were stuck in his throat. It seemed like no one had ever spoken to him like this before.

“Although you’re not even a rat, actually,” I continued to pound words into him like nails into a coffin. Tonight, I thought, I need a psychotic, uncontrolled Heinrich de Gramont, not one who’s weighing his every word carefully. “Unlike you, a rat is at least capable of fighting to defend his own. My father, unlike you, held these de Marbots off for years, and didn’t lose a square foot of territory in the process. You, like any other coward, could do no more than rush to end the conflict on any terms, however humiliating and unfavorable. You’re weak, uncle. Just like the soft, capital-city dandies you call sons. Your household force is a collection of fattened idiots who’ve forgotten which end of the sword they’re supposed to hold. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone comes knocking soon, to test you and see how tough you really are. Even Lord Gray didn’t escape that. So how could you?”

“Scoundrel!” Heinrich finally recovered the ability to speak. He was hissing like a chunk of superheated metal in the rain. “I’ll destroy you! You pathetic bastard!”

I smiled and turned around without a bow as if to walk away.

“Ah, yes...” I stopped, as if I had just remembered something important. “Imagine this, my dear uncle! The Marchioness de Gondy told me a few interesting details about the game “choose your animal” earlier this evening. It turns out that there isn’t a “Mantis Shrimp” card at all, and never has been! There’s just the “Shrimp,” which stands as the epitome of cowardice and treason. How interesting... I certainly wouldn’t want to have drawn that card right at the start.”

Leaving Heinrich de Gramont sputtering with rage behind me, I covered my face with my mask and smiled evilly. There’s no doubt about it anymore, I thought — “my dear uncle” will be doing exactly what I need him to.