Of Blood and Roses

Chapter 21

Dinner went on mostly without a hitch. I found pretending around Jourdon far too easy once I got accustomed to it. It was like interacting with anyone else within Garnette. An artful play of words and returning his small smiles even as I cursed him from within, never truly knowing what hid behind his expression.

This Jourdon was charismatic, the venom of his charms hidden behind a carefully constructed veil of awkwardness. The messy hair, the way he slid his spectacles back up his nose when they slipped.

I might have been fooled had he not been so different before. The last time we had sat like this, he had barely looked at me.

Now, when he looked at me, it was like we held a secret. He would hold my gaze for a moment before looking away. Tonight it was just us and the Marquise in the small dining room. The king was absent, as was Pierre. Which was a small mercy. His glittering blue eyes would follow my every move and see right through me.

I pushed my food around my plate. Even though it was delicious, it was hard to keep my appetite. My head throbbed from the earlier touch of my gift, even though the whispers had quieted for now. Each time Jourdon slipped his gaze to me, my stomach turned. I hated this.

The Marquise was quiet, but I felt her gaze. Sweat dripped down my back. I didn't look at her. If I did, I would see the same eyes she shared with her son, and something told me they would have the same talent of seeing right through me.

We went on like this for some time. Talking, but not talking. Smiling, but not smiling. I was starting to wonder how early it would be considered impolite to excuse myself.

The doors swung open as a lady maid bustled in, a heavy expression on her face. I straightened immediately, recognizing her as one of the Queen's ladies who had been present during our brief visit. She looked around the room then approached the Marquise and whispered in her ear. The Marquise's gaze flickered to Jourdon.

He missed nothing. He stood, his chair falling clumsily back behind him.

"What happened," he asked, his voice ringing through the room. The Marquise and I were silent, watching him. Jourdon's face had gone hard, his eyes focused on the maid and Marquise.

She stood gracefully, nodding to the maid who quickly departed, shooting a concerned look at Jourdon as she went.

"Go to your mother," she said softly to Jourdon. "She needs you." I was surprised to see concern in her eyes.

For a long moment he did not move or say a thing, until slowly he nodded, swallowing thickly, the hardness in his jaw crumbling as he heaved in a shuddering breath. He glanced at me.

"Would you come with me?"

I froze. Why in the all the Heavens above us would he wish for me to join him?

Despite all his deceptions, I still believed his despair over his mother and her rapidly failing health was genuine. Even if I knew he did not loath me, he still barely knew me.

I glanced at the Marquise, hoping for some kind of indication on how to respond, but for once her perfect composure had broken, and she looked just as surprised as I felt.

Jourdon closed his eyes, letting out another trembling breath. "I-I'm sorry, I am asking too much. You don't have to. I know we are still strangers, and wishing for you to do something like this so soon is..." He opened his eyes looking at me. I saw fear there. So much pain. He knew his mother was dying. This could be his last few moments with her.

"I just... don't want to face it alone. And I don't know who else to ask," he finished.

I couldn't help it. The monster that he was, a flicker of compassion rolled through me.

The Marquise's gaze pierced into me. If I refused now after Jourdon had laid himself so bare, I would look heartless. Nothing like the girl I had been trying to pretend to be all night. Slowly, I lifted to my feet, and tried to focus on one sliver of empathy I felt for the man that wanted me

Perhaps inviting me along was another twisted manipulation. Another way to convince me of his change, his desire to let me in. Part of me even considered, horrible as he was, did he even truly care at all, or was this all an act to him? Even if it meant having me intrude on his mother's dying moments.

But I had to play along, or risk everything.

"No one can know," Sabine had said.

I swallowed thickly, approaching Jourdon. He searched my gaze. If he saw my reluctance, he read it as something different. I reached out, taking his hand.

"Let's go," I said softly. "I'm here for you if you need me."

And maybe, a part of me even meant it.