31 Am I Really Going To France?

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Iris~~

The lounge outside the private dining room is full of mirth when I arrive, Laasya, Percy's sister, at my side. In front of us are Gwen, Naserian, and Analiese. The four of them disperse into the small crowd composed of their brothers and cousins and of course the royalty of France because can a crowd really call itself a crowd if it doesn't have royalty?

Then there are a few others I don't recognize.

Everyone is clustered around either the crackling fireplace or at the drink cart or in between the two if they're feeling a bit divided.

There isn't a person who doesn't look happy, and because of that, I'm put at ease, despite not being able to spot Jonas in the room.

Prince Alix and his sister are across the lounge to the side of the fireplace speaking with Sebastian and Tobias.

Princesss Abella wants me to meet with her brother. Apparently, this conversation will determine where I live in France. When it first came up, I assumed she was speaking broadly referring to what city I'd take up residence in, but then she clarified that small—I mean, miniscule—detail that she meant whether I'd live in the palace or not.

It's really happening, isn't it? Me? France?

Before the Prince and Princesses arrived, it still felt like a wild dream, not real. Going to another country had never been a possibility. Now that they've arrived, and I've heard Princess Abella speak about what my life will—not even a would—be like makes this all become tangible in what has felt like a heartbeat.

And I still barely speak any French. I'm Expired. What am I doing? How am I supposed to survive in another country when I can barely ask directions in the native language?

But how am I supposed to survive in Elleany if I stay? All it takes is one misplaced glance for the Society to turn on me.

Almost to the group now, I try to compose myself. The prince and princess notice me coming and offer smiles. Sebastian and Tobias spare me a rather judgmental look over and nothing more.

Not wanting to trip, I check the back of my high heels as I step onto the rug lain before the fireplace. When I look back up, Erik's stepped out in front of me. His face is drawn tight and his nostrils flare. "You can't be here." His voice is loud enough that it draws the attention of those who are the closest: Bently, Riley, Sebastian, Tobias, and Prince Alix and Princess Abella. I'm sure they're not the only one's of whom Erik has caught the attention.

"I was asked—"

"Just because you're friends with the Preeminence, doesn't mean every door is open to you."

As my face burns enough to rival what I've experienced from my Mark, I take a step back.

His gaze shifts to a point behind me.

The Order members nearby and the royal twins glance at each other. From their expressions, it's clear they're uncomfortable.

I search for words—something to say to him—but nothing comes. I turn to see what he's looking at, but he grabs hold of my shoulders and twists me to look at him. "Go."

I take a step back, but his hands remain. "Erik, what's going on?"

"Can you never do what I ask?"

"I was asked to be here."

"That doesn't mean you should be."

A part of me hopes Princess Abella or Prince Alix will step in. Explain that they requested my presence, but the truth is that I'd be more mortified than I am now if they did. They're royalty. They have no obligation to step in for me. A girl without a title who they don't know. They've already offered me more than enough kindness in offering to help me start a new life in their country.

I close my eyes, counting to five, imagining what it'd be like to punch the Tresais. It would probably feel really damn good.

But I won't do that.

Not here. Not now.

To my the left on either side of the fireplace are two sets of French doors that lead outside. Through the one on the left, I can see the cerulean blue of the lighted pool.

The cold air should cool down my face.

Everyone is silent as I walk to one of the doors. I feel humiliated. I've been scolded as if I did something wrong when I was only following through on an invitation.

As I push open the door, the cool air blows against my face, and it's relief I feel once I've shut the door behind me. The dress I wear, while long sleeved, only comes to above my knees, but if a few goosebumps is the cost of avoiding the burning disgust in Erik's eyes, it's worth it. It could always be colder.

A few Society members are seated at tables around the pool, some sipping hot drinks with steam that curls into the air like the wafts of steam above the pool.

I wrap my arms around myself. I don't know why I continue to let myself be hurt by him. Is being hurt a choice? Do I have the power to decide what words will or will not affect me? It seems like something I've heard before, some piece of advice that the bearer had never actually tried on themselves to see that it doesn't work.

Sometimes with Erik things are exactly as they seem and other times there are nineteen layers that you cannot perceive going on behind the scenes.

If I wasn't wanted there, wouldn't Bently or Colton or any other member of the Order have told me so?

As I walk the length of the pool, I listen to the hushed murmurs of the Society's conversations, letting the muffled words fight to take up my space in my brain so I don't keep replaying the scene from inside.

I reach the end of the patio, closer to the maze now. There's a fountain not too far in. It offers the chance to be alone but with enough space that no one can sneak up on me. With the knife hidden under my dress, I almost feel brave enough to dare death to try me. I'm itching to hit something, and I can't help but wonder what it's like to punch death. With the French prince and princess here, the security has been tightened. Not only are additional Veil stationed throughout the grounds and patrolling the maze, but there are French soldiers present as well.

As I walk through the maze, I trail the tips of my fingers over the leaves and try to commit the small things about the Estate to memory.

Once in France, there will be an endless amount of sights and objects for me to study. And it won't stop at France's borders. I can go beyond them. See Italy. Singapore. Russia.

And no matter where I am, I won't let anyone make me feel unwanted again. I bite my lip as I come upon where warm amber light is cast upon the dirt, signaling an opening in the hedge wall. This should be the courtyard up ahead. I'd like to think I could make sure that I will never feel unwanted, but I know deep down it's a fantasy. The first time I felt wanted since my orphanage was burned down was when Erik wanted my help to change the Society.

Stepping into the courtyard, I find I won't be alone. 


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