People say you are more likely to die by the hand of the Brits than a Frenchman, yet here I am, preparing my excuses before he disconnects my head from my neck. Julien will not let me in his mind, meaning he cannot at least make our excuses align. I must count on his ability to read visual cues and that… graveborn must be hidden.
At least he understands that; the graveborn moves into a corner and hides behind a stack of hay. The nausea and overall feeling that a person will end my pathetic life show that adrenaline enjoys destroying my mental functions in the name of survival. I swallow the spit in my throat with excessive force and pray that luck gives me mercy. Sweat has ruined all my clothing, and it has made my body shiver like I am fearful of a snake. Footsteps get louder, and it does not take a detective to realise he has brought others.
"Julien." A soft, feminine voice exclaims as if it is a plea. It is not my mother… She is the emperor's favourite Dove, Lady Selene. Julien's mother. The ruler would not bother with the affairs of his Doves; it would look like favouritism, even though it already exists.
"Let your wings shine ever brighter." To not offend Lady Selene, I curtsy, lowering my head closer to the ground than usual.
You may arise. With a condescending eye, Lady Selene examines me, treating me like a virus — a rare and valuable discovery able to find parts of the human code invisible to us. Fascinating, but dangerous. Julien inherited those grassy eyes from her; she likely won the ruler's interest because of her near-perfect body. It is odd that she decided to come here with jewellery and such a stylish dress; she is intimidating us. The gods can mourn, not me. I want to see tomorrow, and I need to find out why me.
"Julien, are you in the proper mental state to explain to me what transpired?" She said that like an arrogant intellect. (Of course, I am both.) Your son almost died, and you do not dare ask if he is okay. Gods, I hate everyone I meet. Am I cursed to dislike humanity?
"Lady Selene, I would like to discuss the events somewhere more … personal." He lowers his head in respect, and my eyes catch my father in what I think is France's diplomatic uniform, and of course … Isabelle. I can't guess accurately if she came here for Henri & Vivienne, but it matters not.
"Marie, are you okay? Did you go to hell and back?" Isabelle attempted to add humour to the situation, and all it did was let awkwardness sit in.
"Yes, Mother. I am fine, as always." I twist my muscles in my face into what I call a smile; it does not appear to lighten their moods. There are a huge number of people who are part of the aristocracy, which either means Dearest Dove has no survival skills or they have something important to announce. Clearly the latter, because I have to believe he cares for his wives. My thoughts distract me, and I almost get left behind; I get out of the jail cell and follow the other people to civilisation. My feet are abused by the distance, and my eyes see more external light, suggesting we are almost done with this nightmare. One where the trauma will come back to haunt me. My theory is making a bit more sense; the Dearest Dove came with the strongest chantiere in this country, William Jordan. The king really favours her a bit too much, more than his safety. I secretly cast a spell that allows Julien's cells to not reveal that he was stupid enough to use Helwyrf in front of a royal warlock. He is approximately 50 years old, yet his face and developed muscles tell me he just turned 30. The white hair on his head compromised his scheme. William cannot stop scanning me, assessing my ability to manipulate frequencies, eyeing me like he recognises my face.
"Good day. Sir Merrick." I refuse to give him even a hint of a smile; as the daughter of a duke, I outrank him, and he's far too forward with his staring.
"Likewise, Lady Noirvent." He keeps staring at me; he does not even try to hide it anymore. My heart pushes out blood even faster, and my fight-or-flight instincts want to kick in, but I'd lose in a battle with him, and there is no running from all these warlocks.
"Is there anything you would like?" I return the 'I am obviously judging you' look, which he does not react to (like I expected any reaction.)
"My lady, have you ever considered attending a chantirical institution?" Ok, he was assessing my chantirical ability. At least he can see through the barrier I made.
"Yes, if God allows, I would like to attend Phonica Institute." I would like to know why he would ask me about my future aspirations. Does he want to recruit me? Why would anyone want to bond my blood to protect England's House? The conversation does not go further than that. Outside the abandoned castle, a waggon train can be seen, all made of wood and steel, and at the centre is a waggon with the kingdom's crest on its tilt, more stylised and posh than all the others. Lady Selene does not care to ask who it belongs to; she eyes it and enters it with Sir Merrick. My body must be addicted to adrenaline, as I had enough in that dungeon.
I cannot protect Julien if he is at too much of a distance. I fix my posture into one that expresses gratitude and move my body towards Julien, stretching my arms and wrapping them around his body. The temperature of the air has increased. Mr Merrick wants me to back off, but I cast a spell on Julien so that he can automatically reactivate my concealment spell.
William notices, and I whisper a thank you in Julien's ear to deflect the situation. Lady Selene is a kettle, almost done boiling, and if it were not for my father being a duke, I'd be as dead as a chicken in front of a hungry man. William decided it would be appropriate to analyse me like I am a rat being studied. With all the dexterity I can muster, I move away from Julien and get into the cart my parents are in. Before any portion of my body can enter the waggon, my hand is seized by a powerful force which I cannot defend myself against.
"Lady Selene, might I suggest we travel in the company of the Noirvent's youngest flower?" Does he find me attractive, or is he fucking with me? My arm loses the battle between powers. My father does not give me any attention, and Isabelle's eyes betray her; she wants to help, but he literally kills for a living. I know I am not dying. Not yet… I feel like a child who has thrown a tantrum and is now being pulled away from their parents.
The difference is I am embarrassed. I am being pulled by a knight to a waggon without my consent, and my parents can do nothing; my vocals might accidentally cast a spell; I will get injured if I dare. My face is hot with rage and embarrassment, and after what I think is an eternity, he lets me go so I can enter the waggon reserved for the Doves and ruler. Julien sits in the corner and avoids eye contact with me, and after that, I take a seat next to him.
William enters the waggon after I get comfortable in my seat. I only notice Lady Selene paging through a book; the cover suggests romance. 'Romeo and Juliette', a classic play.
In another person's hand, that would be considered contraband, a fact swiftly followed by the violent separation of their head from their body. I catch her eyes scanning me, judging if I am befitting of her presence.
"May your wings shine ever brighter." I wait for her response, and she does not react for a while.
"Do you know why you are here?" She looks at me like a diamond, always attracting eyes.
"I do not, my lady." I return her look. There is a bit of a pause to her next response.
"After your survival of abduction by a powerful British citizen, the UN authorised the enrolment of children born to noble people from France and England. I would like you to represent the Noirvent House." My mouth tore from my lips and stood wide open.