𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄. chapter eleven; French Friendships " Looking at a woman as nothing more than if she still has her virtue makes us no better than men. "
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THE HARVEST FESTIVAL was a great opportunity for Elspeth Liens. Despite the news that her friends would remain in France, she still wanted to make ties in the country, considering she planned to remain there for a long while.
The Queen's words hadn't left her memory so soon either— Elspeth had been formally released from her duties, considering she'd found herself engaged, but still, she'd remain at Mary's side for as long as she could.
The tugging between Scotland and France aside, Elspeth had it in her mind to make friends with the French.
"Petal."
Demetre seemed to have it in his mind to make friends with the Scottish.
"Demetre," Elspeth greeted, smiling as she subconsciously smoothed the fabric of her new dress.
Demetre had no shame in admiring the deep purple he'd chosen, a color so rich it was reserved mostly for royalty, but he had too much money for one man and dared not spare any expenses for the gown.
"It looks wonderful."
"You have wonderful taste," Elspeth corrected with a smile, "Thank you, truly."
Demetre waved her off, joining her side to stare out at the mingling crowd around them.
"How are you?"
"Oh, you know. . . not very fond of all the festivals, banquets, celebrations," Demetre waved, clasping his hands together as he peered over at her, "But you seem to enjoy them."
"Of course I do, it's only one of the unspoken duties of being a noble," Elspeth smiled, making Demetre roll his eyes sarcastically, "Oh, come on, you don't find any fun in this? Writing your worries on a boat and watching it sail away, indulging in Autumnal foods. . . perhaps finding a girl that would love nothing more than to catch the eye of The Demetre Langlois."
Elspeth's tone had turned to teasing as she pointed out a young brunette at a table across the event from the duo. She was pretty, in a casual pale orange dress that contrasted to the color of Elspeth's own, and her light brown eyes hurriedly searched for something else to lock onto as Demetre peered towards her.
"I'm not interested in courting anyone," Demetre said evenly, "They're all the same."
"That's incredibly rude, Demetre."
"It's true," He sighed heavily, "They only care to know about the Grim, the Blood Wood, the fights and metal and war."
Elspeth fell silent. She couldn't blame him for being pessimistic about women if every single one had only cared about the most sensitive subject Demetre had.
