The King's Eye

Chapter 12

 Dust floated through the air in gusts as the servants uncovered furniture. Shaking out the large white sheets, they worked in teams to fold each piece corner to corner before disappearing to other rooms to repeat the process. It seemed as if the Paris house had been abandoned for some time, the dining room that hadn't been covered and protected from dust still had a glass of wine sitting at the head of the table. Dust sat even in the liquid, making it murky and thick.

I couldn't imagine how long it had sat there.

Days had rolled into one another over the last month, and after the funeral for the dauphin, Francis insisted I move into what was to be our full time home. Outside the walls of the time capsule I now stood in, I could hear the clicking of hooves on cobblestones and laughter. While the gardens at court gave me comfort, the city moved me. Full of life and dreams, it was where I grew up for the most part. I had friends here. I had a home only a few streets away, that now felt foreign.

After the wedding I hadn't seen my parents once, leaving me gutted. Francis was who I had to seek comfort from those first few days, crying into his chest at night hopelessly wishing he was someone else. When his lips would meet mine in the darkness of our bedroom I had to fight from recoiling as his hands memorized my body like one of the maps on his desk. I hated my body for reacting to his touch, welcoming it as my mind cried out.

I was his wife, though. My duty to produce an heir illuminated by the dissatisfaction in his eyes when my monthly came instead of pregnancy. Elodie had been a help in that aspect. Friend. Dressmaid. Finder of tonics from weird women in alleyways. In reality she was friends with an assistant of the Royal doctor, who told her what to do. I only reaped the benefits.

The windows in front of me looked out to a busy street, filled with vendors and carriages, but it was a building across the street that caught my eye. Abandoned amongst the buildings it shared walls with, vines grew up the whitewashed bricks, making the cracks almost invisible. Along the edges of its windows Wisteria began to wilt in the summer sun, the purple hue standing out against the curtain covered windows.

For a place that was let go, it was beautiful.

"Excuse me?" I stopped a maid who carried one of the many white sheets, catching her off guard. "Who lived there?" Pointing to the beautifully abandoned house across the way, she frowned at me.

"His Grace owns it, ma'am," she said, making my eyebrows raise, "but, he only conducts business there."

My arms crossed across my waist. "What sort of business?"

She shrugged, her shoulders barely lifting as she wrestled the sheet in her hand. "I'm not sure, your grace." Beginning to walk away, she stopped at the edge of the threshold and turned to me. "Usually though, when he does business there, there are quite a few other men who accompany him. Last week I counted twelve in total, including his grace."

I smiled at her. "What's your name?"

"Simone, your grace." She bowed her head. It would take getting used to being duchess, not because of the title but because of how on edge others were around me because of it.

I took a few steps toward her, a smile tugging at my lips. "Simone, I need you to tell me anytime you see anyone come or go from that house." I pointed to the wisteria-covered windows across the street, before grabbing the folded sheet from her arms. "Now, if you wouldn't mind telling me where this goes." I gestured to the sheet in my hands, her flinch told enough of her experience working as a maid in this household.

"Your grace—"

"Sophie." I smiled. "Please call me, Sophie."

She shyly smiled and began to lead me to the linen closet, a room large enough to fit a bed lined with shelves of blankets, sheets, and more. "You really don't have to help, your grace. I mean...Sophie." She said uncomfortably. I wondered if this was what it felt like for me with the king.