French! Again?! My patience is almost nonexistent. Not only is most of this in Middle French, but the ones I can translate hold little value. I page through the book with the dexterity of a horse, and, well, most of them are not useful. Wait. I stop and look closely at a line. From what I can translate, it looks like I was not hallucinating.
"Biblobore, Father's looking for us," Henri says, interrupting me from my research. He grins, and it is the one enemies give you. Getting out of bed, I noticed how messy my room was. The maids can deal with it; I just need to convince them. I stand up and follow Henri to Francois' location.
When we enter the room, he looks at all of us, pausing at me and giving me the look he has given me ever since my mother joined the creator, like I'm responsible for her death. His lips curled as though speaking to me leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. I don't really care though, especially since he killed me once.
"You both will attend the gathering tonight," he says. His voice was void of any emotion. "You will behave accordingly, and the royals will be there. Henri, I want you to introduce Marie to Julien." The room becomes quiet.
"Father, is it not the duty of a mother to deal with those affairs? Oh, sorry. I forgot—your mother is dead." Henri looks at me; I smile, clenching my fist.
"Although my mother is dead, it looks like your mother forgot to teach you manners." His lips begin to thin.
"You mistake arrogance for wit; a dirty look for someone as short as you to be almost lovable; watching a blue-haired goblin pretend to be scary."
"Oh, it must be tragic," I retort, tilting my head in his direction. "You are so tall, yet you are so spineless."
Before we decide to throw fits, our father shoots both of us a glare.
"Enough! You both are going to dress appropriately and will make yourselves tolerable." Francois says, his voice filled with rage. None of us are moved by his words. "Your sister will be joining you both."
I look around and see her sitting on a stool, watching what is happening. She is always so stealthy.
"It has been long, siblings. How have you been?" She says, with the fakest smile I have seen.
"Life is better without you in it." Vivienne scowls at Henri after he replies. Shortly after, I leave the room and prepare a dress for the gathering.
The venue looks astonishing. As expected of an event held by the house. The air is thick with the perfume of a thousand blossoms, their scent both subtle and potent. The chandeliers light the room in a way that resembles a bonfire, mirroring the atmosphere of the place. I sit here drinking a glass of wine and watching the others enjoy their lives. Many women surround Henri, some for his charm, others for our influential last name. Vivienne is chatting with some ladies here at the ball, and not one noble dear comes close to me. Something doesn't feel right. Nobles left and right start falling asleep, and there are people I don't recognise that are here. Are we being kidnapped?
How the fuck do our parents not hear us? There are people screaming the life out of them, and nobody is coming to help. I begin chanting a spell, but I'm too light-headed to finish it.
"Get all of them in the carriage" is what I think I heard.
My eyes begin to start functioning before my brain fully can. This is all too familiar. The place is not the same; it is way more spacious than it can hold 10 people. Lucky me, I got the bed made of hay; the other nobles would hate this. The only light it gets is from the small hole. From that I can tell it is morning, and because of the smell of petrichor, I can tell we are not in the same area; it has not rained since. That does not matter right now. I scramble to wake the others. I hum a sound that triggers them to get shocked by a little electricity. It did not go as planned, and they woke up but looked like they were in hell.
"Where the hell are we?" one of them asks."Like we know," I say, and that person that asked gave me a look dirtier than his ass.
"No need to be a bitch about it," Henri says, shooting a grin at me.
"Everybody, this is not the time to fight; we need to get out of here." Julien says.
"What do you have to worry about? You are the first prince; anybody that dares to touch you will be killed." One of the others says. While they are busy quarrelling about nonsense, I hear footsteps coming towards us, and I quiet them down.
"Welcome, toffs." Oh, he is British. Does he want to start a war? "Fear not, I shall not harm you."
"Why would we trust a rosbif?" Henri enquires, and some nobles laugh.
"Henri Der Noirvent, is it? How must your father feel about you having a son?"Silence spreads in the cell and dissolves as people begin to understand what he said.
"Damn, Henri. For a male, you act so much like a whore." Vivienne says, and Henri's face lights up with the colour that will stain the floor if they are not stopped. I notice his right hand is fidgeting with a small ball that glows lightly, and he stares at Vivienne with an expression harder to read than Greek.
"Vivienne De Noirvent, you are always picking fights with men. Why not with somebody … your own type?" A grin forms on the mysterious man's face.
Shit, is she actually homosexual? She'd be dead if anybody found out.
"You call me a whore when your taste in women would have you stoned." Henri says to Vivienne, and they throw fits at each other.
The man still continues secrets of us, and after a while it's my turn. He fiddles with the marble in his hand again and stares at me.
"How was it meeting Christopher?" he says, all eyes locked on me. Sweat starts leaking out of all my skin, and I swallow my spit. The invisible locks restricting me from using my hands disappear, and he gestures for me to come out of the cell. Everyone in the cell looks at me like I'm an equation.
"Don't do anything stupid." Vivienne tells me as I walk out of the cell and into a long corridor illuminated by the torches that hold fire.
"How do you know about Christopher?