Execution [Book 2 of The English Lion]

XLIII. Isabelle

I would be in Alex's office, working on my paperwork as I feel some peace by being there. I would usually spend the majority of the day in his office since Alex died two months ago. It wasn't long passed ten in the morning when Philippe walked into the office. I glanced up to see him before giving attention back to my work.

"De quoi avez-vous besoin d', Philippe? [What do you need, Philippe?]" I asked, with slight anger in my tone, as he sat opposite me. I was greeted with silence.

"Depuis Qu'Alexander est décédé il y a deux mois et Qu'Hugo est prisonnier de guerre, je crois que vous avez besoin de quelqu'un sur qui vous appuyer. [Well, since Alexander has passed away two months ago and Hugo is a prisoner of war, I believe you do need someone to lean on.]" He replied and I immediately froze. I look at him.

"Qu'est-ce qui te fait penser que j'ai besoin de quelqu'un sur qui m'appuyer? [What makes you think that I need someone to lean on?]" I asked him, "Ce qui vous fait penser que je ne suis pas d'accord? [What makes you think that I am not alright?]"

"Bien... tout le monde sait à quel point vous et Alexander êtes proches, alors je me suis dit, [Well... everyone knows how close you and Alexander are, so I figured,]" Philippe replied genuinely, and I sighed.

"Alors, que veux-tu que je fasse, hm? Vous parler et suivre une thérapie avec vous? Je doute que vous ayez une licence et tout ça, [So what do you want me to do, hm? Talk to you and have therapy with you? I doubt that you have a license and all for that,]" I replied, setting the papers in my hand down on the desk.

"Non non non. Tu as mal compris. Ce n'est pas une thérapie. Juste quelqu'un sur qui vous pouvez compter, c'est tout, [No, no, no. You misunderstood. It's not therapy. Just someone who you can rely on, that's all,]" He immediately replied.

"Alright then," I stated, "But since we are now on talking terms, it doesn't mean we are best friends, do you understand me?"

I stated, with a hint of anger and authority as I looked at Philippe who nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," He replied, gulping as eyes widen in fear.

"I will be watching you, Philippe. One step out of line and I will make sure you will regret everything," I hissed.

'Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' I thought as I reference the English playwright and poet William Congreve in his 1697 play, The Mourning Bride. Throughout the day, we would be talking in topics that don't include Alexander, and the war because that both pains me greatly.

It was almost two weeks later when I was cornered by Colette in my room.

"What do you think you're doing, hanging out with Philippe?" She asked me, quite angered. I looked at her.

"Someone has to keep an eye on that bastard. But to let you know, he approached me first," I replied. Colette stared at me.

"But make sure that you're not getting too close to him," Colette warned me and I nodded.

'I wonder what that was about,' I thought, frowning as Colette left my room.