The Lady Justice

Chapter XII: I Argue, I Argue Not

Lady Therese De Beauharnais of Roche

10 October, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Bordeux Castle, Bordeux

Monrique

"Let the will-o-the-wisps,

come dancing in twilight.

Drawn to the melody

Of the evening breeze, they

touch, and they tickle, and they

twirl once to the left, and

once more to the right.

Let them join us in

this beautiful twilight

and we will be happy

together tonight and

through all the nights to come.

I sang Tommy to sleep, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles, as I rocked him in my arms, and walked up and down the corridor outside my chambers. He had not been able to bear the stench of alcohol that Rochelle had left behind in my chambers, and neither had I. The air out in the corridors was biting cold, but was much fresher.

Slowly, but surely, his breathing evened, and a small smile crept unconsciously up his lips, the nightmare of our reality forgotten in his deep slumber.

I wished I could do the same.

I closed my eyes, attempting to make sense of the many emotions coursing through me. I was simply furious with Rochelle, but it was not the anger that overwhelmed my mind, but rather, the pain. The pain I had seen in Tommy's eyes at that moment when his mother had yelled all those horrible things at him.

I could relate to it. I had felt it, drowned in it, when I had been even younger than he was.

Trembling slightly, I cradled the child closer to me. I would not wish my childhood even on my enemies, let alone on this sweet child.

At that very moment, I heard a thunder of footsteps from the stairway behind me, growing louder and louder with each passing moment. I turned around sharply to see who was coming to my chambers at this time of the night, and as I did so, I collided against something.

Hard.

A soft gasp left my lips. I was about to fall face first on the cold ground, when a strong arm slipped around my waist swiftly and held me up. Almost on instinct, I held Tommy tighter against myself, as I was pressed up flush against someone's chest.

My head tipped back on impact, to gaze straight into a familiar pair of baby blue eyes.

His face was so close to me, so close, that I could count every one of his familiar, thick, long lashes that framed his almond-shaped eyes. I could see the slight stubble on his sharp, tapered jaws, and feel the warm breath that left his lush red lips on my own. He was so close, that I could reach out and run my hand through the soft, wholly abundant honey-blond locks that graced his head if I wanted to.

But I did not.

It was a losing battle to regain my composure. I was only all too aware of his arm around my waist, of his hard, muscled torso I was pressed against, of his rapid heartbeat under my hands that rested on his chest, of his beautiful, baby blue irises that held mine firmly captive.

Lord.

Blood pounded in my ears. All air left my lungs, all colour drained from my cheeks, and for that one rare moment in my four and twenty years of life, I was absolutely, and completely, taken aback.