Previously: Auremer
Mireille and Thibault had rehearsed this moment for months. Now that it was here, Mireille did everything not to mess it up.
"There is a letter attached," Marguerite continued, visibly baffled. "Ma chère Marguerite, if you are reading this, I am no longer here. I am sorry you did not have a proper family, but know that your mother and I loved you, and valued your safety above all."
She stared at the scroll for a time in shocked silence, then looked up at Mireille. "Did you know?"
Mireille smoothly rose to her feet, shaking her head. "I knew your father was noble. I specifically requested that when I wrote to St. Osric's. But I didn't know your father was a Duke, and most certainly not that Duke."
"He has left me his entire estate!" Marguerite exclaimed. "His palaces in Laurenne and Saint-Véronne, farmlands in Valleroy and Montrevain—all mine!"
Mireille couldn't resist smiling. "Well, well... ma chère Marguerite. I do believe this makes you the richest woman in Valeronne."
Marguerite gave an astonished laugh. "Is this real? This cannot be real!" She flipped through the pages and suddenly stopped. Her expression changed abruptly while Mireille worked very hard to keep hers composed.
"It says I was to marry Prince Aurélien," Marguerite read, her whole body tensing.
"You were betrothed?" Mireille asked, keeping her voice calm.
"Why would he do that?" Marguerite gasped, staring at the page in disbelief.
"Obviously, to make you Queen of Valeronne someday," Mireille replied, suddenly wishing Thibault was here, not her. But knowing the computer, this timing was likely deliberate.
To her surprise, Marguerite recoiled in horror. "For what? So Aurélien could seize my lands and waste my money?"
Mireille was surprised at how well she kept it together. “Your father waged a war to become King of Avenholt. With you as Queen of Valeronne, Aurélien would’ve been nothing more than a puppet.”
Marguerite clutched the scroll to her chest and looked at Mireille, brow furrowed in concern. "But my father failed. If I married Aurélien anyway, it would be a disaster."
"Yes," Mireille said deliberately, nodding. "Thankfully, fate stepped in and led you to my cousin." She smiled warmly. "And you are happy, are you not?"
Marguerite finally relaxed. Her shoulders dropped and she smiled in return, rubbing her belly for comfort. "Oui. I am happy."
"Wonderful," Mireille said, clapping her hands. "I believe this calls for a celebration!"
***
"How did she handle it?" Thibault murmured as he and Mireille watched their family sit down to another sumptuous dinner.
"Rather well," Mireille admitted. "As far as she is concerned, we were none the wiser."
"Excellent," he said, nodding firmly. "We will be leaving soon to survey our new properties. I intend to leave my mother in Laurenne, while Marguerite and I move to the capital. Lucien will remain here and learn about the family business, with the aid of a seneschal. And I still think Élodie would do well in the North. Her Orsynian has gotten better."
"And I still think Adela will use the poor girl as a punching bag," Mireille replied through clenched teeth. "Either let her go with your mother to Laurenne or take her with you to the capital."
Thibault shook his head. "Élodie is an innocent girl, raised as a commoner. I fear the capital will eat her alive. But I also fear sending her to Laurenne would be a waste."
Mireille was getting impatient. "They have rich people in Laurenne, don't they?" she hissed. "The girl is already eighteen. Make an advantageous match for her and be done with it. At least in Laurenne, you know she'll be safe."
Thibault begrudgingly accepted. "Fine."
The two finally donned their smiles and joined the rest of the family for dinner.
***
"Cousine, this is Bastien Marceau, your new seneschal."
Mireille looked up from her reading to see a tall, thin man with Thibault. He had pale skin and gray eyes. His dark hair and beard were streaked with gray.
After her experiences with her last seneschal, the Viscountess eyed the new one warily.
"You've served in this capacity before, I take it?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oui, Madame," he replied, bowing his head slightly. "I served the Delauney family, but alas... their business did not survive the war."
"Lucien needs guidance," Mireille said, turning back to her book and slowly flipping the pages without reading. "His brother will come and go but you will be his primary advisor."
"Oui, Madame."
"You have heard them call me la Vicomtesse Sanglante?" she asked suddenly, shooting him a look.
The seneschal stiffened, visibly uncomfortable as he hesitated to respond.
Mireille casually looked back down at her book. "Steal from my family and you'll find out why."
***
As much as she enjoyed the calm, elegant coziness of Auremer, however, the Viscountess was starting to get bored. Most of the nobles had either died in the war or left Auremer. The ones who remained were heavily in debt and struggling to get their businesses up and running. And Mireille knew better than to get involved.
Spring turned to summer; Marguerite gave birth to a healthy boy. She named him Amaury Thibault de Montverre du Maurier for her father and husband. By the end of fall, she, Thibault, and the baby had moved on to the capital. And just when Mireille was tiring of buying more clothes and jewels than she knew what to do with, a letter arrived from Thibault.
Ma cousine,
Saint-Véronne is beyond anything I ever dreamed. The city is several times the size of Auremer. My wife's palace—our palace—is twice that of the one in Laurenne. As the new Duke of Orvienne, I have reviewed the accounts and I estimate we are worth eighty thousand crowns, with five to six thousand crowns in gross annual income.
Mireille's jaw hit the floor as she stared at her cousin's letter in disbelief. Granted, she had unofficially had far more money than that, but officially, she was basically the broke cousin.
Marguerite and I were invited to court. Words cannot describe the royal palace, Mireille. The walls and pillars were so high, I felt like an insect. The gardens stretched as far as the eye could see.
The King and Queen have golden thrones, Mireille, golden thrones! Their throne room was so massive, I could barely see the ceiling. And there were nobles from all over Everen in attendance.
When we dined, I had the honor of being seated next to Crown Prince Aurélien. He is my age, and handsome as a god.
And now... my reason for writing. For some reason, His Highness is showing a strange interest in my wife. He talked to her more than me and more than once, laughingly mentioned how they were betrothed as children. I know now my wife is a beauty, and have come to care for her dearly. But Aurélien seems to love her from first sight, and it is becoming vexatious.
Mireille winced. Fuck. The computer had said that after the war, Marguerite was supposed to marry the Crown Prince, who loved her dearly. It seemed the Prince was programmed to love her either way. It had also said King Renaud would suddenly die, making Aurélien and Marguerite King and Queen of Valeronne.
Since Renaud was still alive, it was likely his death was only triggered by his son's wedding.
Which means now, the old fuck will probably live forever. Mireille sighed, before continuing Thibault's letter.
He invites us to court and we cannot say no, even though we do not much care for his company. Aurélien is a bored royal who drinks too much, and is only interested in pleasure. I thought about introducing him to Élodie, but I fear she will love him more than he could ever love her. I fear Marguerite and I may have to leave the capital, which means our palace here would be unattended and our family ambitions hindered.
And just like that, she was smiling again. She didn't need to read the rest to know why Thibault was writing. It was obvious. He needed someone emotionally unavailable to distract the Prince the way only Mireille knew how.
He needed la Vicomtesse.
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