Chapter XXXIV: I Accede, I Accede Not

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A trigger warning: This next chapter was painful to write, and it messed up my head for a good while. But a story is a story...and here is the next part of it.

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Lady Therese De Beauharnais, Duchess of Roche

29 November, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Roche Manor, Roche

Monrique

The twilight was too silent, almost like the calm before the storm.

Curled up on my windowsill, I sat very still, with my hands crossed on my lap. I watched the clouds glide across the skies above, slowly, gently, and the snowflakes float down to the ground with a soothing grace.

I watched, but my gaze was unfocused.

My mind was burning with a directionless, uncontrolled vengeance that I had not felt in a long time, and my heart...my heart was with the little boy that Rex had so cruelly taken from me this night.

My throat clogged up. Oh, Tommy.

It had been so easy to forget Rex's existence. He had been dormant for such a long time, I had assumed he had given up on trying to sabotage the petition.

However, truth be told, I had taken a significantly lengthy hiatus from the petition while taking care of my father. Mayhap Rex had simply been waiting for me to continue again, so that he could strike, and strike hard.

Whatever his reasons might have been, he had declared war this night. He had dared to abduct a boy I loved as my own son, from my own home.

My baby.

I closed my eyes. I could still vividly remember the day Tommy had been born in Alençon five years ago. All the Earls of Roche, Papa and I had been present for the birth, at the then Earl of Alençon's invitation. Although she would not remember it – she had been drunk, even then, and was drifting in and out of consciousness - I had sat right by Lady Rochelle, encouraging her and holding her hand through the birth.

And fearing and fretting over her and her child's well-being -

She had been in labour for more than a day, and the midwives had almost given up on her. The baby had been a few weeks overdue, and furthermore, he had been facing the wrong way around in her womb.

No one had believed he would survive, but he did. He had been a fighter. He had graced the world at dawn, just as the powerful rays of the sun had begun to spread through the skies like molten gold, purifying everything they touched.

Lady Rochelle fainted right after. I cried – a rare occurrence.

The midwives had allowed me to hold him first. Covered in thick blood and fluid, he had been the smallest, most precious little thing, with a scrunched-up face and the tiniest of baby blue eyes. He had cried, strong, loud and angry, ready to live his life. All the while he was wailing, I had simply gazed at him with tears brimming in my eyes, stunned and moved by the priceless miracle I held in my arms.

It was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life.

Everyone had discussed for days later on what to name him. According to the Earl of Alençon, the baby was his earldom's long-awaited heir, and therefore, his name had to be one that made a statement in itself.

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