𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄. chapter fifty- five; The Duke Of Bourbon " I, too, think I will be a terrible Duchess. . . But who would I be if I did not at least try? "
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THE FESTIVITIES HAD begun indoors as well. Elspeth had never before attended a coronation, so her awe was evident as they wandered the castle, every corner decorated, each square inch covered in nobles and royals from all around Europe.
"Nearly every titled man we've passed has glared at either me or you," Elspeth spoke quietly, attempting to keep her smile even, "Have you really denied every one of their daughters and sisters?"
Demetre glanced lazily around, spotting sparse French noblemen doing exactly as Elspeth had said.
"Probably," He sighed, "And each one is only angry because they wished to be a part of House Langlois. Because they cared for a title, favor with the king, riches, glory. . ."
Demetre glanced at Elspeth as they approached the doorway to the throne room.
"I intended for House Langlois to end with me. To become nothing but a fable, long after I am in the ground. . . But perhaps a better future is ahead for it. A future where House Langlois is known for its kindness. For art and poetry. Where it is known for the members that have joined and built it better, instead of the blood-stained history it has always held."
She looked up at him and smiled so tenderly, that Demetre felt his heart sputter at the sight.
Elspeth Liens was the past, present, and future. She was France and Scotland. Both the canvases she painted and the swords she wielded. She was everything he had ever dreamed of and hardly believed existed.
She was everything to Demetre Langlois. They would soon watch his childhood friend be crowned King, and rule the land they were born into, but Demetre knew the only crown that mattered was Elspeth, for she had been the ruler of his heart since the day he set eyes on her.
So he lifted a hand and rested it on her own, leading the woman through the crowd and into that grandiose room. They took their places in the audience, closer than any two unmarried people should be, and watched as a small parade of people entered, lead only by Francis and Mary.
Francis approached the throne first, becoming bestowed with the holdings of a king, before a crown was placed gently on his bed of curls. He stood slowly, before taking a seat on the largest throne that had, mere weeks ago, belonged to his father.
"Long live the king!"
Mary approached next, kneeling at the steps before a matching crown was placed atop her head.
She took the throne beside Francis just as the church bell tolled.
"Long live the queen!"
Applause scattered as flower petals were released, raining down on the King and Queen of France and their subjects.
