"My Lady, should I go teach him a lesson?"
Irene quietly chuckled.
"Let that man be," she said, then gestured to Eli to sit down. "Let’s drink so tea. It’s getting cold."
Afternoon tea was also one of the traditions Elise and Irene shared. Little rituals like these were the heart and soul of their friendship, where they would talk about life, hobbies, or anything that ca to mind. Eli found it endearing.
Irene held her cup with both hands, staring into it. The tea was lukewarm by now, but neither of them minded.
"The Duchess is relentless. Knowing her temper, she will send one after another to pressure ."
"Let them," Eli said. "You handled him well, my Lady."
Irene sighed.
"I don’t know what to do, Elise."
She paused for a mont.
"My mother... she despised the Duchess. She could have allied with the royal faction, but she kept the House out of politics as much as possible. It was all for the people of Sienne and our household."
She gracefully took her ti to sip so tea before continuing:
"But now the House is weaker than it has ever been. Father is... well, you know how he is. He is consud by grief. He refuses to see , or anyone for that matter. He clings to the title for my mother’s sake, but does nothing with it."
Irene set the cup down and looked at her hands.
"If I stay neutral, the House bleeds out slowly. If I side with the royalists, I paint a target on our backs. And if I accept the Duchess’s offer..."
She trailed off.
"I betray everything my mother built."
"Irene..."
The parlor grew quiet and heavy. The afternoon light had started to dim, and the shadows in the room had grown longer.
Eli wanted to say sothing — anything — but what? In the ga, Irene rarely spoke about her mother or the fall of House Lagranche. Even in her most intimate scenes, she kept that grief locked behind a wall.
Now she was sitting right in front of him, laying everything bare.
And Eli felt like an intruder.
He had Elise’s mories: the Marchioness’s warmth, the years at Irene’s side, the fireworks at the annual festival... But he didn’t experience them first hand.
It was like reading soone’s diary of life — he could only look from the outside while trying to understand the feelings behind each letter. He wasn’t the original owner of these emotions.
So Eli stopped himself from saying borrowed words. He sat there, across from the person he swore to protect, and said nothing. He simply refilled Irene’s cup and set the teapot down.
Sotis, the best thing a maid could offer was to make sure the teacup stayed full.
Irene didn’t seem to mind. She picked up her cup again.
"Sorry. I shouldn’t have burdened you with this."
"You didn’t. I’m a mber of this house, my Lady. The burden is also mine to bear."
She looked at him for a mont, then the corner of her mouth lifted.
"Well then. As a mber of this house, what do you make of this visit?"
This was Eli’s chance to voice his concerns. Irene always valued Elise’s opinions because she believed the maid had better intuition than she did, so he had to use the mont to execute his plans.
"The Duchess will soon take extre asures, my Lady. I believe Edmond was rely an insult she threw at you."
Irene narrowed her eyes.
"How so?"
Eli clasped his hands neatly in front of him.
"Edmond ca here with no real leverage. He didn’t even bother to be courteous."
Eli’s view of Edmond might have been warped by how much he hated the bastard, but Edmond never acted without a reason. The Edmond that Eli rembered, when he forced himself to be unbiased, was calculating and manipulative — soone who would never peel off his mask so easily.
’Unless he already knew it didn’t matter.’
Eli believed the plan to destroy House Lagranche was already in motion, and that Edmond had only co to laugh in their faces and maybe do so reconnaissance. A prideful man like Edmond would enjoy the despair of others, especially noblewon.
"The Duchess has long sought to eliminate us, my Lady. She has always feared the full extent of our House’s power. Now that our House is weakened and its influence dwindling, it is simply more profitable to take Sienne by force than to negotiate for it. Edmond only ca to confirm that we are ripe for the taking."
Eli paused, catching himself. He’d been speaking too confidently.
’Backtrack, backtrack!’
"Of course, this is my worst-case assumption, but we shouldn’t dismiss it."
Irene looked at him for a long mont, the tea cup still in her hands.
’Damn... Did she notice sothing?’
But then, she let out a chuckle, putting the cup down.
"You’re just like Mother. Even I do not despise the Duchess this much."
Eli relaxed his clenched fist, relieved.
"The Duchess is a formidable foe, my Lady."
Irene rose and walked to the window, her back to Eli.
"What do you suggest?"
’Finally.’
"With your permission, I’d like to take a brief leave. There are people in Sienne I believe can help us."
"And who might they be?"
Eli debated whether to tell Irene, but he realized he had no choice. Still, he could keep it vague for now.
"The academies your mother built are full of talented people. So of them owe their livelihoods to this House, just like myself. If the Duchess moves against us, we’ll need more than the household guards."
"You want to recruit from the academies..."
Irene trailed off.
"If the Duchess catches wind of this, she’ll either call off the plan or move before we’re ready."
"Exactly, my Lady. Which is why I have to go alone, and under the guise of running errands for the household."
Irene was quiet for a mont, her gaze still fixed on the view of Sienne beyond the window.
"How long?"
"A few days at most. I’ll be back before the week is out."
She turned to face Eli.
"...Fine. When are you leaving?"
Eli rose, folding his hands neatly in front of his apron.
"Tonight."
Irene’s eyes flickered with worry.
"I see. I shall prepare a carriage right away."
She paused for a mont, then approached Eli.
’Close...’
"Be careful, Elise. Don’t be long. I need you here."
Eli quietly smiled.
"Of course. Please be safe, Irene."
***
[Assimilation inactive.]
The courtyard was quiet, save for the clatter of hooves on cobblestone. A single carriage sat near the front gate, modest enough to avoid attention.
The stable master loaded the last of Eli’s bags onto the back and secured the straps.
"That should do it, Miss Elise. Travel light, don’t you?"
"I won’t be gone for long."
Eli checked the carriage once more. He had requested the most ordinary one: no crest, no grandiose carvings or adornnt.
Just then, he heard footsteps behind him. Eli turned to find the butler approaching.
’Alfred?’
"Elise. A mont, if you will."
"Ah, yes."
The old butler stopped a few paces short and reached into his coat, and a folded piece of paper revealed itself.
"What’s this?"
Eli asked, taking the paper. When he unfolded it, he found a small, hand-drawn portrait of a young woman. She had sharp eyes, dark hair tied loosely behind her neck. She looked no older than Irene.
"Who is this, Mr. Garrison?"
Alfred’s usual calm expression wavered slightly.
"Soone who left the household soon after you arrived. She was once the Marchioness’s closest confidant. If your travels bring you to her, I ask that you bring her ho. She would be a great help in this predicant."
Eli studied the portrait.
’I don’t recognize her from the ga...’
"Does the Young Miss know about this?"
Alfred paused.
"This is a personal request."
Eli looked at the portrait one more ti, then folded it carefully and tucked it into his coat.
"I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Garrison."
Alfred’s stiff composure softened.
"...Thank you, Elise."
With that, Eli climbed into the carriage.
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