𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄. chapter fifty-two; The Monster Of France " You were told who you were before you got to choose who you would be. "
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ELSPETH LIENS WAS not doing well. She wandered the castle like a ghost, unsure of what to do or how to speak. She had been entirely unable to paint, and uninteresting in riding or sharing breakfast with Alex and Hugo.
But she still stood beside Demetre to welcome Francis, Lola, and their child home.
Her friends had heard the news, and Elspeth had no doubt Kenna had shared it the day it arrived. And she was grateful, for if she had to recite it in her own voice she would have crumbled entirely.
Francis hugged Elspeth tightly after he had greeted Mary and Bash, lingering for a moment with the girl.
And when he let her go, Elspeth clung back to Demetre's side.
She wasn't entirely of her own mind, but she could register faintly that Francis was introducing his apparent savior, Louis of Conde.
Elspeth felt sick as Demetre finally escorted her away. She'd not even said a word to Lola, or welcomed her baby home, but she couldn't.
Elspeth had very little light left for anything in her heart.
"Petal."
She glanced up at his soft tone.
"We can stay inside," Demetre offered, "Or we can attend the celebration of Francis's return."
Neither sounded good—isolation or facing the public.
"Or I can show you what I promised I would," He said after a moment, "I can't say it will brighten your spirits."
"It would give my mind something else to linger on," She said quietly, squeezing his arm, "Yes, please."
Demetre looked almost regretful as she agreed, but he refused to argue with her. Even at her best, Elspeth Liens could get whatever she wanted out of him. And now, with the expression of agony on her face at all times, Demetre figured he'd hand her the world if she asked.
Elspeth stood idly by as Demetre gathered two horses for their journey. She did not ask any questions as he helped her onto one before mounting his own. She simply followed.
They rode for an hour. In the slowly melting landscape, to a place Elspeth had never been.
The Blood Wood bordered their ride, setting Elspeth on edge the entire time; and her nerves were not settled when Demetre stopped in a seemingly endless field, still framed by the wood.
"We walk from here," Demetre said, his voice tight as he dismounted his horse.
Elspeth accepted his hand down, watching the man gather both reigns and tie them to a weathered hitching post.
