{(set: $chapter to "Prologue")
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<div class="chapterlink"><span class="chaptertitle">(link-reveal: "PROLOGUE")[(show: ?next)]</span>
//Where one reflects on oneself//</div>
|next)[(t8n: "fade")+(t8n-time: 3s)[Raising the candelabra you held in your hand, you approached the mirror. The flames’ warm light pierced the opaque darkness and washed over your weary features as well as your reflection’s. You met its eyes and it looked back.
{<div class="choice">[[You recognized the man facing you.->Man]]</div>
<div class="choice">[[You recognized the woman facing you.->Woman]]</div>
<div class="choice">[[You recognized the person facing you.->Person]]</div>}]]{(set: $person to "man")}
(cycling-link: bind $pronoun, "He", "They", "She") appeared when you were at your lowest.
<div class="choice">[[Your best friend and your worst enemy.->Best friend and worst enemy]]</div>{(set: $person to "woman")}
(cycling-link: bind $pronoun, "She", "They", "He") appeared when you were at your lowest.
<div class="choice">[[Your best friend and your worst enemy.|Best friend and worst enemy]]</div>{(set: $person to "person")}
(cycling-link: bind $pronoun, "They", "She", "He") appeared when you were at your lowest.
<div class="choice">[[Your best friend and your worst enemy.->Best friend and worst enemy]]</div>{(if: $pronoun is "He")[
(set: $they to "he")
(set: $them to "him")
(set: $their to "his")
(set: $theirs to "his")
(set: $themself to "himself")
(set: $plural to 1)
]
(else-if: $pronoun is "She")[
(set: $they to "she")
(set: $them to "her")
(set: $their to "her")
(set: $theirs to "hers")
(set: $themself to "herself")
(set: $plural to 1)
]
(else:)[
(set: $they to "they")
(set: $them to "them")
(set: $their to "their")
(set: $theirs to "theirs")
(set: $themself to "themself")
(set: $plural to 2)
]}
(upperfirst: $they) always had solutions to your problems. Terrible solutions. There were not any other kinds, but sometimes you faltered and hesitated. In those times, you had to meet with your old friend.
You stayed silent for a moment, looking into $their eyes.
Dark circles lined feverish (cycling-link: bind $eyecolor, "black", "brown", "green", "hazel", "blue", "gray") irises. You had not slept at all that night, making the reflection’s (cycling-link: bind $skincolor, "pale", "bronze", "brown", "black") skin dull in the candlelight. Disheveled and (cycling-link: bind $hairtexture, "coiled", "curly", "wavy", "straight") hair hung loosely around the image’s (cycling-link: bind $hairreach, "head", "shoulders", "waist"), glints flickering on the (cycling-link: bind $haircolor, "black", "brown", "blond", "red") locks. So far from the meticulously refined appearance you tried to cultivate daily. It was alright. Tonight you were meeting with the being closest to you. (upperfirst: $they) had seen you in worse states than this. You remembered the first time you confronted $them.
<div class="choice">[[You were only thirteen at the time.->Only thirteen]]</div>{(if: $hairreach is "head")[
(set: $hairlength to "short")
]
(else-if: $hairreach is "shoulders")[
(set: $hairlength to "shoulder-length")
]
(else:)[
(set: $hairlength to "long")
]}
<span style="color: #777777;">//(You can now enter custom pronouns in the settings.)//</span>
It was a child who looked back at you then, bewildered, breathing heavily, panic making $their eyes dart all over your figure.
“He is dead, I killed him,” you said out loud, at no one, at yourself, the part of you that was facing you, locked away in the mirror.
Except $they (print: $plural of (a: "was", "were")) not locked away anymore. Somehow, $they had reached over. (upperfirst: $they) did it, overtaking your body. (upperfirst: $they) killed your younger brother, Philippe. Or at least that was how your young mind decided to comprehend the situation. Later, you realized how ridiculous it was and you finally confronted reality. You did it. Yet, you kept this habit of addressing the image in your mirror when your conscience wrestled with your actions. If it was what it took to find some modicum of peace, so be it. It was convenient. It was practical.
As far as you could remember, the darkest part of yourself had been growing steadily, spreading inside of you like swirls of ink dropped in water. You had found some relief in talking to it through the looking glass. You confided your most sinister thoughts to it, giving them a voice, making them tangible. It listened, without judgment. You felt better after it. Yet it was not enough for you to control your worst urges. You killed your brother.
Did you want to kill him?
{<div class="choice">(link: "Of course not!")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(go-to: "Of course not")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "No, but you wanted him dead. What other ways were there?")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(go-to: "You wanted him dead")
]</div>}
You just wanted some payback for all the times he had beaten you, maybe some peace and quiet too.
(display: "He was a bully")
You hated Philippe. He was always mocking you, belittling you, when he was not beating you.
(display: "He was a bully")He was only eleven but already bigger and stronger than you. Like his father. Your father. He was a brute, a bully, and the legitimate son of the Prince de Gonzague, so there was not much you could do about it. //Only the strongest survive//, as your father always said.
So every week Philippe would receive a bouquet of pale carnations, and every week he would smell their delicate perfume, assuming they were from the girl he was sweet on. How could he suspect anyone of sprinkling their petals with a dash of arsenic?
Your younger brother started having headaches. It only made his moods more sour and he enjoyed taking it out on you.
So he started receiving the bouquets of carnations daily. Then he was subject to dizzy spells, a fatigue that made him much more tolerable. He also felt the need to relieve himself much more often, to your great amusement.
Until that day, when he started vomiting blood, collapsing to the floor and convulsing, pink foam spilling out of his mouth. You had watched him, fascinated and panicked all at the same time. You could not move and you did not want to. Maids and servants were rushing all around you, screaming, calling for a doctor, but there was nothing they could do to stop what was happening. In a few seconds, Philippe was dead.
<div class="choice">[[And you had killed him.->You killed him]]</div>
You were rewarded for it. //Only the strongest survive//, your father said again before bestowing your brother’s name and title onto you. You were to be his heir, now, and he started calling you Philippe, reminding you that his children were interchangeable. He came to regret his decision, of course, but that was a story for another time.
You still kept your real name close to your chest. <div class="inputbox">(input-box: bind $firstname,"X",1,$randomname)</div>
But as far as anyone else was concerned, you were Philippe, heir to the Gonzague name. Your father made sure of that. You hated his attempts at erasing your identity but you accustomed yourself to it. It had its benefits, and in the end, only the strongest survive. Your father was not stronger than you.
This thought was reassuring, even now, as you were looking into the mirror again.
Once, the man seemed invulnerable. You used to be convinced you would have to suffer his tyranny for the rest of your life. It changed when you realized you could kill him like you killed your brother. There were no obstacles you could not overcome as long as you were ready to do what it took.
<div class="choice">[[“Only the strongest survive,”->Only the strongest survives]] you repeated to your reflection, watching its lips move slowly.</div>
Your breathing started evening out. You felt a little calmer. It always helped, you remembered now.
“That was father’s saying, was it not? It keeps coming up. Maybe he was onto something. The only thing he was good for. And now I need to be strong again, for Philippe de Lorraine, Duc de Nevers, stands in my way.”
You paused, your reflection staring back at you emptily, waiting for you patiently.
“You know I would not come to you if an easy solution was available. We need to do this again, old friend. One more time. Nevers needs to be //gone//.”
//But Philippe de Nevers is your friend//, said an insidious voice in your head, a voice coming from further down in your body, inside your ribs where searing pain was starting to spread.
They called you the three Philippes. You, Nevers, and the Duc de Chartres were inseparable. Sometimes you wondered how it happened, other times you remembered you worked for it. The Duc de Nevers and the Duc de Chartres were both incredible connections to make. And then… You were not sure how such a thing could occur, but they started liking you. Maybe by simply being there often enough, laughing at their jokes, participating in their antics, and indulging at their parties.
Together, you shared your time, but you also shared your secrets. Oh, not yours, of course, as it would lead to your demise and they would not like you so much anymore. But you prided yourself in being both men’s confidante. You thought they told you everything.
<div class="choice">[[You thought wrong.->Chapter 1]]</div>{(set: $chapter to "Chapter 1")}
<div class="chapterlink"><span class="chaptertitle">(link-reveal: "CHAPTER 1")[(show: ?next)]</span>
//Where untold secrets see the light of day//</div>
|next)[(t8n: "fade")+(t8n-time: 3s)[The castle of the Caylus-Tarrides family stood strong on top of a hill that jutted asymmetrically in the middle of the valley of Louron. On one side, a cliff dropped straight down into the waters of the Clarabide, flowing from the South, while the other side sloped gently toward the hamlet of Tarrides, to the North.
You were facing the South, standing behind the battlements, and looking ahead. Your gaze followed the serpentine path of the river, shining bright under the midday sun. It led to the massive natural wall of the Pyrénées, obscuring the horizon with its tall snowy peaks. They hovered above you as if trying to intimidate you with their armor of stone. But you saw a crack in their defense. The jagged line tearing into the deep blue sky dipped in the middle. There, a narrow passageway led to Spain. Not easily, granted, but it was all the better for the smugglers who were said to use it.
What you saw there was an escape route. You did not need it at the moment, but… it felt good to know it was there. Safe. After all, the breathtaking view would be yours, someday, if everything went according to plan.
“It looks nice now, but when the winter comes…”
Your head turned sharply to the left, where the voice was coming from.
<div class="choice">[[You found Monsieur de Peyrolles leaning against the thick wall.->Peyrolles]]</div>]]
Their arms were crossed over their chest and you met their cold, drooping eyes, gray irises fixed on you. Maybe they were trying to figure out what you were thinking about. You might have stayed silent for too long.
“What of the winter, little Peyrolles?” You asked, the corner of your lips lifting derisively.
You enjoyed calling them that. Little Peyrolles. They were not particularly short, nor were they tall, but they were a minor noble who had been content putting their questionable skills at your disposal for a few years now, showing no sign of any other ambition. Of course, it had likely everything to do with you knowing about the unconventional way they obtained their title.
You came to an agreement, all those years ago. Peyrolles would guard your secrets and in exchange, you would keep theirs. Obviously, the balance of power leaned toward your side; your word had a lot more weight than theirs. You could afford to call them ‘little Peyrolles’. Whether they found it demeaning or amusing, you could not tell. Peyrolles’s countenance was always as emotionless as the stone wall they were currently pushing their back against.
“In the summer, this place is already isolated. In the winter, it must become a prison,” Peyrolles elaborated.
“Oh, but it is a prison all year round,” you replied, gaze returning to the grandiose scenery in front of you.
“You mean for Aurore de Caylus.”
You nodded. “Our host’s daughter leads quite the miserable life, locked away in this antique castle. She might as well be a fairy tale heroine, waiting for prince charming to free her from this dreadful dungeon.”
“And that makes you ‘prince charming’.”
You looked back at Peyrolles. You did not need to read their expression to know they were doubtful.
You shrugged. “Why not?”
They just stared at you. You knew what they were thinking.
{<div class="choice">And yet they were wrong. You did have some sympathy for Aurore de Caylus. (link: "As bad as you were, you would not be worse than her father.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(set: $aurorefriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "You have sympathy")
]</div>
<div class="choice">You smirked. Maybe they were right. You could not care less about Aurore de Caylus. You were only after her wealth. (link: "Still, you did not plan on keeping her prisoner as her father did.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(set: $aurorerivalry to it + 1)
(go-to: "After her wealth")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "There was no way for Peyrolles to know this, as you kept those feelings locked away even from yourself, but you cared for Aurore de Caylus and you felt some irritation at their silence.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(go-to: "You care about Aurore")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ]Was their opinion of you that poor? You were not entirely surprised but it still stirred a bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach. (link: "Maybe you should not have that much affection for someone who likely resented you…")[
(set: $peyrollesromance to 1)
(go-to: "You should not have that much affection")
]</div>}{(unless: (passage:)'s tags contains "no-header")[
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<span class="chapter">$chapter</span></p></td>
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]}
“Please, if you would rather work for the Marquis, tell me. I can write you a recommendation letter.”
You tried to keep your tone light as a lopsided smirk formed on your lips, but there was bitterness in your words.
“I wouldn’t,” Peyrolles replied so fast that you lost your smile instantly.
The silence that followed was an awkward one. You did not expect them to answer with so little hesitation and they were as forthcoming with elaborations as always. Their lips moved as if they were chewing on something.
“I simply don’t believe in fairy tales,” they said, after what seemed like an eternity. “We better stay on our guard.”
You grinned again. “That is the paranoid little Peyrolles I know.”
They only spared you a glance before looking away, a strand of mousey brown hair falling on their gaze and hiding the jagged scar tearing their left cheek in half. Their profile was a striking one, with their prominent nose jumping out. You took a short moment to watch them. The cool breeze had brought a pink flush to their usual pale and ashy complexion, bringing some life to their otherwise expressionless features.
You looked back to the landscape as your factotum stayed stubbornly silent.
(display: "Inside the castle")
“You are right, of course,” you confirmed. “I am anything but ‘prince charming’. Although I can be charming, should I wish to be. And I am, in fact, a prince.”
“Some people differ on that one.”
Your smile dropped instantly. You cast a cold glare on them.
“I can do without the reminder,” you stated in an icy voice.
Peyrolles looked away, seeming suitably chastised. “My apologies, monseigneur.”
Your shoulders relaxed as you made yourself breathe deeper. There was no need to get worked up when things were finally looking up for you. You watched them for a moment. They had a striking profile, with their prominent nose jumping out. The cool breeze brought an unusual pink flush to their pale and ashen complexion, giving some life to their otherwise expressionless features.
“You are lucky that I am in a good mood.”
Your factotum glanced back at you from under the mousey brown strand of hair that hid the jagged scar tearing their left cheek in half.
“I wouldn’t rejoice too soon. We better stay on our guard.”
A lopsided grin formed on your lips. “That is the paranoid little Peyrolles I know.”
They did not dignify you with an answer.
(display: "Inside the castle")
You felt the corner of your nose twitch. “You think she will be miserable with me.”
Their thin eyebrows lifted slightly. They did not expect such a bitter tone. You should have kept your voice under control.
“I wouldn’t presume anything like that, monseigneur,” Peyrolles answered, suitably apologetic.
Whether they were sincere was another matter. You scoffed, turning your gaze back to the mountains.
“I would not blame you for it, little Peyrolles. You have been at my side long enough to be able to make such a judgment. And I have lived with myself long enough to know better,” you said, a crooked smile forming on your lips.
You glanced back at them. They were frowning, their mouth opening as if to speak. They closed it again — likely for the better — and looked away, a strand of mousey brown hair falling on their gaze and hiding the jagged scar that tore their left cheek in half. They had a striking profile, with their prominent nose jumping out. You watched them for just a moment longer. The cool breeze brought an unusual pink flush to their pale and ashen complexion, giving some life to their otherwise expressionless features.
You looked back to the landscape, ignoring your silent factotum.
(display: "Inside the castle")
You frowned, turning your gaze back to the mountains. “Your silence speaks volumes.”
The air went still with the lack of answer and you glanced back at them. Their brow was furrowed as well, and they were opening their mouth as if to reply but they closed it again, visibly indecisive. The quiet felt like a weight in your chest, turning heavier with every second.
“I simply don’t believe in fairy tales, monseigneur. We have to stay on our guard,” they finally replied, looking away.
You took a step back and considered them. They had a handsome profile, you always thought. Their nose was prominent, angular, a bold statement at the center of an otherwise delicate bone structure. From this angle, a strand of mousey brown hair hid their gaze as well as the jagged scar tearing their left cheek in half. Their otherwise expressionless features were brought to life by a cool breeze, giving a pink flush to their usual pale and ashen complexion. You thought it looked lovely. A thought you kept to yourself, of course.
They could feel the heavy weight of your gaze, however, and they returned your observation with a quick glance. You averted your eyes, redirecting them to the view ahead.
“That is the paranoid little Peyrolles I know,” you said with a lopsided smirk.
They did not respond.
(display: "Inside the castle")You were not left long to admire the mountains and indulge in introspection in Peyrolles’s sullen company. Soon, the Marquis de Caylus’s steward came to fetch you for lunch. You would have felt quite honored that the head of the house’s servants was dispatched for your benefit, but in reality, the Château de Caylus was rather understaffed. Another hint toward your host’s frugality.
You could see it everywhere: in the bare corridors the steward led you through, in the ancient architecture, never updated to fit the modern standards of comfort, in the outdated livery of the servant holding a candelabra in front of you, and in how very few the Marquis’s guests were. This time, it was just you and Peyrolles.
You arrived in an intimate dining room, the table at its center offering only eight seats — still four too many. A fire roared in the hearth, despite the mild weather. It was not unwarranted, however. The castle’s windows were small, letting very little sunlight warm the well-insulated rooms. It was always cold in here and even the fire could not quite pierce through the chill in your bones.
Your host, François de Tarrides, Marquis de Caylus, was already sitting at the head of the table and did not stand up. He only acknowledged you with a quick wave of his shriveled hand. The old man was as unappealing as they come. Tall but diminished by a crooked posture; spindly, far too thin limbs that never failed to remind you of a spider; a long face with hollow cheeks and deep disapproving lines around his mouth, sealing his expression in a permanent scowl. The Marquis never smiled. Except when he won a game of chess against you, which you made sure happened nearly every time.
“Good day, Marquis,” you saluted him with a smile. “I hope the morning has treated you kindly.”
Beady little black eyes followed you as you approached your usual seat, on his left side.
“As kindly as it can, in my weary old age, my dear Gonzague,” he responded in his usual even tone.
His voice did not sound quite as old as he looked. It still had power and steadiness, leaving no doubt in your mind that you were facing a healthy man, in full possession of his intelligence. That only made you like him less.
<div class="choice">[[You and Peyrolles were about to sit side by side when the door opposite of you opened, letting Aurore de Caylus step inside the dining room.->Aurore de Caylus]]</div>
The young woman was everything her father was not, making it quite hard to believe they were related at all. Where he hunched forward, she stood proudly, her bared shoulders kept elegantly low and back. Where his body was dry and angular, her silhouette formed harmonious curves under the rich emerald green of her dress, her décolleté tastefully highlighted by the subtle shine of a string of small pearls. Where his face was sickly pale and his mouth thin and pursed, her skin had the warmth of burnt sienna, and her lips looked full and soft, a long and curved nose pointing to the deep arc of her cupid’s bow.
No, she looked much more like her mother, whose scarce paintings always glared at you with barely contained anger when you passed them by in dreary hallways and austere sitting rooms. Aurore had the same mighty features, firm reminders of both her Spanish and Moorish ancestry.
As you understood it, Inès de Caylus had been as much a prisoner as her daughter was now, back when she still lived, much like the Marquis’s first wife before her.
The first one passed away after a ‘long ailment’; Inès perished in an ‘unfortunate accident’. You were not sure you believed any of it. After all, a few of your family members did succumb in such circumstances.
{(if: $auroreromance > 0)[
When Aurore’s dark brown eyes found you, you fooled yourself into thinking they lit up with something else than righteous anger.
]
(else-if: $aurorerivalry > 0)[
When Aurore’s dark brown eyes found you, they were dull, emotionless.
]
(else:)[
When Aurore’s dark brown eyes found you, they held your gaze firmly. It felt like they were asking you a question. Which one, you could not say.
]}
You stood up straight at her sudden appearance and Peyrolles did the same. You watched her maid, Dame Marthe, follow her into the room — she never left her mistress’s side — before you walked around the table and pulled Aurore’s chair for her.
She stared into your eyes (if: $auroreromance > 0)[— your soul, it felt like — ]and was about to sit down when the Marquis interrupted her: “Are you not going to kiss your father?”
She froze and you could see her lips pursing ever-so-slightly. But she turned to him, walking the couple of steps she needed to be at his side. You watched her slowly bending down to brush the old man’s cheek with her lips. There was barely any touch at all in that kiss, and certainly no love in it. It was a scene you were familiar with, a farce you had to perform yourself several times during your childhood.
When Aurore came back in your direction, you took her hand and brought it to your lips courteously, without touching her knuckles, and helped her sit.
{<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "You were speechless.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(go-to: "Speechless")
] You always were when you first laid eyes on her.</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You put your charm to use.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(set: $aurorerivalry to it + 1)
(go-to: "Turn up the charm")
] To get what you wanted, you had to win over both the father and the daughter.</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You were polite.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(set: $aurorefriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Polite")
] You knew how she must have felt and you did not want to cheapen that with some light-hearted comment.</div>}
You could not say a word as you gently guided her to her chair, slowly letting go of her soft hand with more regret than you cared to admit. Aurore did not say anything either, simply exchanging a quick glance with you, her features as unmoving as usual, if not for the release of breath that made her chest fall noticeably. //A sigh of relief, no doubt//, you thought as you retreated to your own seat. She likely hated you and what you represented. A brand new and shiny prison.
It made your guts twist painfully. You would not have much appetite today again.
(display: "The meal")
“Good day, madame,” you said with a gentle smile. “Once again, I am at a loss for words complimentary enough to describe your beauty. I hope you will forgive me.”
Aurore did not say one word nor did she look at you, her features as unmoving as ever when you guided her to her chair. You observed her for the smallest sign of satisfaction or annoyance, but she did not let anything through. It was endlessly frustrating. If you had made great progress in pleasing the father — you had a lot of experience with gaining the approval of tyrannical patriarchs after all —, you still had no clue about where you stood with the daughter.
You squeezed her hand slightly before letting go, hoping that physical affection might have more of an effect. It did, and by the way she tore her hand away from yours, you knew it was a negative one.
You inhaled deeply and retreated to your own seat, keeping your irritation to yourself. You settled in front of your plate, your mind swirling with schemes to get the young woman to finally think fondly of you.
(display: "The meal")
“Good day, madame,” you simply said as you guided her to her chair.
“Good day, monseigneur,” Aurore answered, exchanging a short glance with you when you gently let go of her hand.
Her features were as unmoving as ever. When you retreated to your own seat, you wondered if she hated you, you and what you represented. A brand new and shiny prison.
It made an uneasiness settle in your stomach. You would not have much appetite today again.
(display: "The meal")The meal started and the host led the conversation, as he usually did. Both Peyrolles and Aurore stayed silent the whole duration, leaving you alone to entertain the Marquis. As much as you disliked him, it did not bother you much. You were used to this, and you easily responded to him with complimentary remarks, subtly flattering the ego of the man, which was quite inflated to begin with.
You could see Aurore barely picking at her plate as she listened to the unpleasant exchange. You could not blame her lack of enthusiasm. You would not be very hungry either if you had to hear someone praising your own father every day at lunch. Besides, the food was not that good. There was a plethora of courses, the host wanting to impress, but each of them was flavorless and lacked the extravagance of the feasts you often attended in the capital. Not that the Marquis could not afford rarer ingredients. He simply chose not to.
After the long parade of endless dishes, lunch concluded in the middle of the afternoon. The Marquis de Caylus had drunk quite a bit of wine and was obviously relaxed, not as keen as usual. You took advantage of his state to poke fun at him and his vices without him noticing, for Aurore’s benefit.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 0)[
You were not sure it had the intended effect.
]
(else:)[
Once, you noticed her bringing her napkin to her mouth to hide the beginning of a smile. The small victory helped you feel more at ease.
]}
Once the meal was over, all of you moved from the small dining room to a cold parlor. Servants hurried to light up the chimney while you all took your usual places. You and the Marquis at the chess table, Peyrolles standing near the window, and Aurore sitting in a frayed armchair to read a book. By the disapproving look the Marquis threw her way, you figured she did not get to read too often. But the Marquis seemed reluctant to start a scene in your presence.
//At least she benefits from me being here in some way//, you thought. You hoped it contributed to her having a good impression of you.
Dame Marthe, never far, took the seat beside Aurore and started working on some knitting.
You conversed with the Marquis at a low volume, trying not to disturb Aurore’s reading. François de Tarrides did not have the same courtesy, either because he was too inebriated to do so or because he did not favor her pastime in the first place.
“Did your mother teach you how to play chess?” The Marquis asked you, taking one of your pawns. “You are so terrible at it.”
He did not mean your mother, but your father’s spouse. He might not have been aware of your illegitimate birth, even though it was not a secret. It was simply not talked about, at least not in your presence. And with how the Marquis isolated himself, he certainly was not entirely up to date with court gossip.
“She could not have,” you explained patiently. “I was too young when she passed away. I was but two when she gave birth to my brother.”
The Marquis nodded gravely. “A tragedy. It must have been quite hard growing up without a mother.”
He shook his head and you avoided his gaze, looking down at the chessboard to hide your indifference.
<div class="choice">[[You did not think you would have had a happier childhood if your brother’s mother had been alive through it.->A happier childhood]]</div>
Your father had always been keen on ranting about how all the family’s misfortunes were her fault. You sometimes wondered if she really died from complications after your brother’s birth or if he was responsible for it. It would not have been the first time he rid himself of someone inconvenient in such a way.
The Princesse de Gonzague was addicted to gambling. She had been the main cause of the crushing debt you had to pay off yourself. The rest, your father created by stubbornly keeping up appearances. He would not abandon his lavish lifestyle, even if he could not afford it. At least the Princesse had a good reason to succumb to her impulses. She was married to your father after all.
Of course, the Marquis could not know any of that.
You moved another pawn, not really caring where.
“I hear you are no stranger to tragedy,” you replied.
The Marquis expelled a heavy sigh as you both kept playing. “I am sure you are referring to both of my wives. I have been an unlucky man, to say the least.”
You stared at him intently, hoping to see a hint of deception. But François de Tarrides was not a stupid man, and no matter how much wine you would have him drink, he was not going to spill his secrets so easily.
“My poor Aurore does not remember anything of her mother,” the Marquis adds, glancing at his daughter, reading on the other side of the room. “She was five when Inès passed.”
You glanced between him and Aurore, hiding your surprise. Maybe he was telling the truth, but you felt like it was just as possible that the young woman retained some memories of her mother. Five years old was very young, but not so young that it would be impossible to remember anything at all.
While you were sure Aurore could hear you speak, she did not have any noticeable reaction. Your eyes fell back on the game to see the Marquis take one of your knights.
“If you do not mind me asking, have you considered marrying a third time?” You said without looking at the Marquis, pretending to reflect on your next move.
He scoffed. “I considered it, but I was already getting old, Gonzague. As much as I desired it, the likelihood of producing a male heir was getting more and more improbable.”
Quite the utilitarian view on marriage. {(if: $givingin > 0)[
But you could hardly be the one to blame him.
]
(else:)[
You repressed a grimace. Even if you were not in a position to blame him, it still felt wrong.
]}
“Besides,” the Marquis continued, moving his rook across the board. “I do not have the fortitude to rein in the impetuosity of youth anymore.”
“The impetuosity of youth?” You allowed yourself a small smile. “Your daughter is calmer and wiser than most elders I know.”
“Of course,” the Marquis sneered, his lips thinning. “//I// raised her. As I have learned with Inès, you do not raise your wife.”
You could not find an immediate response to that. You glanced again at Aurore and this time you were convinced she was clutching her book harder than she needed. You did not think you had heard the Marquis speak that honestly before. Maybe the wine really was getting to him.
He seemed to realize this as he cleared his throat before changing the subject: “But enough about the tragedies of the past, let us talk about your — happier, I hope — future.”
<div class="choice">[[“A much more pleasant topic, I will not deny it,”->A more pleasant topic]] you admitted with another smile.</div>
The conversation that followed was barely more agreeable. The Marquis de Caylus led an interrogation about your possessions and revenues. Of course, a man like him would associate happiness with the riches you had access to. Not that you entirely disagreed with him. You were very aware that lack of money could easily make one’s life miserable.
You firmly reassured him that Aurore would never want for anything. You managed to give him numbers and precise accounts of what you owned while keeping him entirely in the dark about your past debts and how crippled paying them had left you. He seemed satisfied. Unless it was your king, being under the threat of his knight, that put him in such a good mood.
“Check,” he said with a smug smile. “You should pay attention to the game, my friend.”
You really should. It would not do if you inadvertently won. You moved your king out of the knight’s range.
“You never did tell me who taught you how to play,” the Marquis noticed.
“It was my father.”
He also unknowingly taught you how to purposefully lose a chess game. His ego could not handle losing to a child and the first time you won against him was the last. The way he lost his temper that day terrified you into finding ways to avoid reproducing the situation.
It was not something you liked to think about much.
“Really?” Your host pulled you out of your thoughts. “I have always heard that your father was an excellent player.”
It took all of your self-control not to scoff. You were certain your father was not bad at chess. In fact, you thought he could have given the Marquis de Caylus a hard time. But what he was better at was inflating his reputation. He definitely enjoyed thinking of himself as more intelligent than most.
“He certainly was,” you confirmed, convinced no other answer would be acceptable to a man like the Marquis. “But I was a distracted child and had other things on my mind.”
You smiled pleasantly at your own self-deprecating joke.
The Marquis laughed. “It is hard to imagine you as a turbulent child.”
“I would not say ‘turbulent’ is the right word. My thoughts were simply elsewhere most of the time.”
Had to be.
The Marquis hummed thoughtfully. “Aurore was much the same as a child. I can see why you two are making an excellent match.”
You looked at Aurore and (if: $aurorerivalry > 0)[this time ]she met your gaze. Yes, you both grew up under the thumb of an awful father, how wonderful.
{(unless: (history:) contains "After her wealth")[
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "It made your blood boil.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(go-to: "Your blood boils")
] You did not know if you ever had a good bone in you, but Aurore? Aurore deserved a thousand times better.</div>
]
<div class="choice">(link: "You just felt cynical and jaded about it.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(set: $aurorerivalry to it + 1)
(go-to: "Jaded about it")
] Who did not have an awful father these days?</div>
<div class="choice">Aurore had endured her father for longer than you had yours and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. (link: "But at least, it would soon be over.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(set: $aurorefriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Over soon")
]</div>}
You simply smiled at the Marquis, knowing you were unable to speak without your anger making your voice waver. You took a moment to calm yourself under the guise of focusing on the game.
(display: "Losing the game")
“I am glad you think so,” you responded with a charming smile, partly addressed to the Marquis, partly to Aurore.
The young woman returned to her reading without acknowledging you any further. Her continued silence was starting to make things awkward, so you cleared your throat and redirected your attention to the game.
(display: "Losing the game")
“I hope you are right,” you told the Marquis while still glancing at Aurore. “I would hate to cause your daughter any suffering.”
The young woman’s face darkened and her eyebrows knitted into a slight frown as she hurried back to her reading. That was the most vivid reaction you had seen from her all afternoon and you wondered why that was.
“Nonsense,” the Marquis said confidently. “I cannot imagine my daughter being unhappy with a suitor I personally approve of.”
You smiled, keeping quiet to avoid the temptation of throwing a sarcastic retort back at him. You found it best to focus back on the game.
(display: "Losing the game")Which you lost, of course. You played a couple more games with the Marquis, letting him win most of them and putting him in an excellent mood. He asked his steward to bring him a digestif and he relaxed even further.
At some point, Monsieur de Peyrolles left the room, both to give you and your hosts privacy and to check on the safety of your bed chambers.
Soon, the Marquis de Caylus fell asleep, as he often did under these circumstances, which you made sure were all met. You stood up and moved toward the other side of the parlor, grabbing a book and sitting nearer Aurore to read as well. {(if: $givingin > 0)[
You had found that it was a discreet way of keeping her company which seemed acceptable to her, and you took every chance you could get of finding some grace in her eyes.
]
(else:)[
You had found that she was more likely to converse with you in this casual setting, rather than when she was put on the spot and being addressed directly.
]}
You exchanged a look with her, smiling gently. {(if: $auroreromance > 0)[
She held your gaze for just a moment too long before going back to her book.
]
(else:)[
She quickly went back to her reading.
]} It was nothing entirely out of the ordinary, except her focus seemed to wither. You noticed her glancing repeatedly at her father.
“Madame?” You whispered, intrigued. “You look troubled. Is anything the matter?”
{(if: $aurorerivalry > $aurorefriendship)[
She did not answer yet, simply looking at you, then at her father again.
]
(else:)[
She brought her index finger to her lips to incite you to stay silent.<br /><br />
“Just a moment, monseigneur,” she murmured back and you felt some odd relief once you heard her voice.<br /><br />
It was a warm and deep sound, {(if: $auroreromance > 0)[
a soothing melody you wish you could listen to every second of your life
]
(else:)[
a soothing melody contrasting pleasantly against the rattle of her father’s voice
]}.
]}
When the Marquis started lightly snoring, Aurore looked to Dame Marthe who nodded and stood up. The maid left the room and you found yourself alone with the young woman, unchaperoned. That simply never happened. Something really had to be the matter. You looked at Aurore questioningly.
“I need to speak with you,” she said, standing up and still surveying her father from the corner of her deep brown eyes.
You rose as well and could not help a frown from forming on your brow. The situation was so surprising and out of your control that you found yourself growing anxious. You nodded nonetheless. You //needed// to know where this was going.
Outside the parlor, apparently, since Aurore turned on her heels and started walking at a hurried pace. She was tall and her strides were wide.
{<div class="choice">(link: "But you had no issue keeping up, being rather tall yourself.")[
(set: $height to "tall")
(go-to: "Following Aurore")
]</div>
<div class="choice">You had to put some effort into it. (link: "You were not quite as tall as she was.")[
(set: $height to "medium")
(go-to: "Following Aurore")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You walked briskly to be able to keep up, being rather short yourself.")[
(set: $height to "short")
(go-to: "Following Aurore")
]</div>}
She led you down a few different corridors and you realized you were headed for her apartments. On the way, you crossed paths with some rare servants, who were content to bow politely and not pay you any more mind than that. It was a bit of a surprise because the situation was certainly unusual. And worrisome.
“Will the staff not tell the Marquis that we are alone?” You asked quietly.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“They will not,” Aurore affirmed with such confidence you could not bring yourself to question her word.
]
(else:)[
“They will not,” Aurore affirmed with confidence. “I have found that most people favor you if you treat them kindly. Father does not treat any of our servants kindly.”<br />
“But he is the one who pays them,” you pointed out, still worried.<br />
“Not enough,” was Aurore’s final response.
]}
//Fair enough//, you thought as she entered a dark antechamber. You followed her and she closed the door behind you, enclosing the both of you in a small space, only lit by the wavering flame of a candelabra. You found yourself closer to Aurore than you had ever been, let alone without anyone else to ensure you both behaved yourselves.
Which, in this instant, struck you as utterly ridiculous. {(if: $auroreromance > 0)[
As much as you wanted to reach out and caress the soft skin of her cheek, looking warmer still in the flickering light, you would never dare.
]
(else:)[
Both you and Aurore had been taught perfect manners and it was not in the character of either of you to do anything inappropriate.
]}
In this suddenly intimate scene, Aurore’s words surprised you so much that you almost stumbled back. {(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“I heard Philippe de Nevers considers you a good friend, for some reason.”
]
(else-if: $auroreromance > 0)[
“I know you are a good friend to Philippe de Nevers.”
]
(else:)[
“I heard you are a good friend to Philippe de Nevers. Is it true?”
]}
Why was she talking to you about the Duc de Nevers, here where no one else could hear?
{<div class="choice">Philippe de Nevers was your friend, yes. Or at least he considered you such. You? You used his affection to make connections. (link: "How you felt about him was irrelevant.")[
(set: $givingin to $givingin + 1)
(go-to: "Your feelings are irrelevant")
]</div>
<div class="choice">Philippe de Nevers was a good and honest man, on top of the many other qualities he had been graced with. He was so annoying. And just as the thought crossed your mind, you could not help but think fondly of him. (link: "He really was your friend, somehow.")[
(set: $resisting to $resisting + 1)
(set: $neversfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Your friend, somehow")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ]Just the mention of Nevers’s name was enough to throw you into a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You envied everything he was, everything he possessed. His natural grace irritated you. The way he genuinely cared for you was grating. (link: "And you loved him.")[
(set: $neversromance to 1)
(go-to: "You love him")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ]How did Aurore know this? How did she know Nevers? A kinder person than you might have been able to suppress the painful spike of jealousy you felt in your heart. (link: "But as charming as you could make yourself to be, you could not compete with a man like Nevers. He was the real deal.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(go-to: "He is the real deal")
]</div>
}
You endeavored to keep your expression neutral and open. You needed to know more.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed without acknowledging her jab.<br /><br />
At least you had a better idea of what she thought of you, now. Nothing very charitable, it seemed.
]
(else-if: $auroreromance > 0)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed. “Are you familiar with him?”<br />
“I am,” was her straightforward answer. “Please do not ask me under what circumstances I have become acquainted with him.”<br /><br />
You could not say you were happy to hear that, but you were not in any position to protest.<br /><br />
“I will not,” you promised with a respectful tilt of your head.
]
(else:)[
“It is true,” you confirmed.<br /><br />
She nodded, acknowledging your response.
]}
(display: "The letter")
Your affection for the Duc threatened to make you smile, but your curiosity quickly took over and you refrained from showing too much emotion. You had to know what all of this was about. Still, something of your thoughts must have shone through your expression, giving Aurore pause.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed, choosing to ignore her jab.<br /><br />
It was still hurtful, reminding you that someone like you did not belong in Nevers’s entourage.
]
(else-if: $auroreromance > 0)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed, looking into her dark eyes, trying to figure out what she saw. “Yet I was not aware you were familiar with each other…”<br /><br />
Unexpectedly, she wavered and her gaze avoided yours.<br /><br />
“I can only infer that he is indeed a man of honor. I am sorry. I cannot explain… yet. Maybe one day.”<br /><br />
You frowned. It was the first time Aurore showed even a moment of vulnerability in your presence and, under different circumstances, you would have felt privileged to witness it. But right now, dread was tightening its grip around your heart.<br /><br />
“Then I will not pry,” you replied nonetheless with a respectful tilt of your head.
]
(else:)[
You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself, and you confirmed: “It is true.”<br /><br />
She looked at you for a moment longer than was comfortable.<br /><br />
Then she nodded slowly. “So it is.”
]}
(display: "The letter")
Hearing his name from the lips of the woman you were planning to marry brought an especially sour taste to your tongue that you were forced to swallow down. Aurore noticed, her eyes flicking down to your throat before returning to your face, a somewhat thoughtful expression breaking through her usually stoic countenance.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed, once you were certain you had full control over your voice.<br /><br />
You decided to ignore her jab, even though it was hurtful beyond what she suspected. It was another reminder that you could never belong with Nevers.
]
(else-if: $auroreromance > 0)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed and you were surprised by how guilty you sounded<br /><br />
Your feelings for Nevers did not negate your attraction to Aurore in any way, you realized, and it felt all the more complicated. Your hand rose to rub at your forehead reflexively as a migraine started to form between your eyes.<br /><br />
“How do you know?” You asked her.<br />
“From the Duc himself,” she admited and your heart squeezed in your chest.<br /><br />
How did you not know about this?<br /><br/>
“I cannot explain under what circumstances I have met him,” Aurore added hurriedly. “Please do not ask me.”<br /><br />
There was something apologetic in her tone, a vulnerability you did not expect.<br /><br />
“I will not,” you promised with a respectful tilt of your head.<br />
<br />
What else could you do? No matter how badly you wanted to know more, you were not in a position to press her for details.
]
(else:)[
"It is true,” you confirmed once you were certain you had full control over your voice.<br /><br />
You could not let her see that you wished you were more.
]}
(display: "The letter")
You made every effort to keep your expression amenable but the sour taste on your tongue quickly built up and you had to swallow it down. Aurore noticed, her dark eyes flicking down to your throat before raising back to your face. Her expression was different, her proud countenance looking more brittle.
{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
“I am indeed his friend,” you confirmed.<br /><br />
It was hard to hide your cold feelings toward the Duc. It was even harder knowing how poor Aurore’s opinion of you was. But you had to if you want to know what this was all about. And you //needed// to know.
]
(else:)[
You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself before you confirmed: “I am indeed his friend.”<br /><br />
You paused, your turmoil making you hesitate and you hated it.<br /><br />
“May I ask how you know?”<br /><br />
To your surprise, Aurore could not hold your gaze. She looked to the side, abashed. You had never seen her show even the smallest amount of vulnerability before, and under different circumstances, you would have felt privileged to witness it. But right now, all that affected you was the dread tightening its grip on your insides.<br /><br />
“From the Duc himself,” she said, her tone apologetic. “I am sorry, I cannot tell you more, not yet… Maybe someday.”<br /><br />
You found yourself inhaling deeply and you cursed yourself for your lack of control.<br /><br />
“Then I will not pry, you have my word.”<br /><br />
You had no other choice if you wanted to retain the smallest amount of grace in her eyes.
]}
(display: "The letter")“I need to ask a favor of you,” Aurore said as she turned toward the door leading into her chambers. “Please wait for me just a moment.”
You nodded and watched her open the door before slipping inside the next room. Faint sunrays fell through the gap between the door left ajar and its frame, and you could see Aurore walking rapidly toward a desk through it. The room was filled with soft sunlight, filtered through airy drapes, giving it an almost dream-like haze. It was as if Aurore had stepped into another, gentler world than the harsh, contrasted one of her father.
The young woman looked more comfortable in her own space, more assured. Yet you never saw her as someone lacking confidence. Maybe you were wrong. The rays of light rimmed her figure and made her look brighter and livelier than you usually saw her. (if: $auroreromance > 0)[Even more beautiful.]
You realized you were staring when she rolled up the skirt of her gown to reach into one of her pockets and you averted your eyes.
You distracted yourself by watching the dancing flames of the candelabra in the darkness of the antechamber as you waited. But a faint whine brought your attention back to Aurore’s bedroom. You could not tell what or who emitted the sound. All you saw was Aurore standing stiff, a small golden key in her hand, looking somewhere you could not see. She stayed unmoving for a few seconds, seemingly waiting for something. But nothing else happened and she turned back toward the desk, unlocked a drawer, and pulled it open. When she took an envelope from it, you looked away again, before she could turn around and walk back toward you.
Once she was back at your side, she was careful to close the door behind her. She presented the envelope to you, her brown eyes locking with yours.
“I know you are returning to Paris tomorrow and I want you to bring this letter to the Duc de Nevers,” she said, her tone graver than you had heard it before — and she was quite the serious woman. “{(if: $aurorerivalry > 1)[
I will have to trust you
]
(else:)[
I trust you
]} to give it to him in person, with no one else to witness it.”
You held her determined gaze before your eyes fell on the letter. The envelope was blank, with no name, no address on it. {(if: $auroreromance > 0 and $aurorerivalry < 2)[
Slowly, you took it from her hand, and when your fingers met hers, you paused. You waited for her to pull away but she did not. The seconds stretched before you retreated slowly, your fingers giving hers a tentative caress. You looked up from the letter back to her eyes, asking a silent question. She answered with a stare of her own, dark and intent. You were uncertain what it meant, especially in the light of her request, but you knew your draw to her was not likely to fade any time soon, for better or worse.<br />
You stowed the letter away in your waistcoat. You would have to take a closer look at it later.
]
(else:)[
Slowly, you took it from her hand and stowed it away in your waistcoat, resolved to take a better look at it later.
]}
For now, you had to show yourself worthy of her trust.
<div class="choice">[[“The letter will be delivered, I swear it,”->Leaving Castle Caylus]] you murmured solemnly.</div>
You spent your evening in the guest apartments, sitting in a tired armchair, ruminating on the events of the day. The place was as bare as the rest of the castle, with sparse furniture and exposed stone walls. The few candles lighting the room had to fight against the inherent and pervasive darkness of the castle, barely allowing you to perceive the colors of the dust-smelling sheets on the four-poster bed.
Peyrolles kept a grave silence as they prepared your trunk for travel, leaving you to your morose disposition, but they did not fail to notice the letter you were holding in your hand. You examined its every angle and flipped it over multiple times. There was not much to see. It was blank and the paper was thick enough that you could not see anything through it. The only notable detail was the seal on the back. The design was unique but simple; it did not include the Caylus-Tarrides crest. A lion, with its right front paw raised, was depicted looking toward the left in the middle of an oval frame.
You knew Peyrolles likely had questions, but you did not want to address them yet, not while you were still in the castle. And frankly, you were not in the mood. It was rare for you to fall into those mutism spells and you were aware it was cause for concern. But you just knew this envelope was trouble. The fact that Aurore de Caylus maintained a secret correspondence with Philippe de Nevers did not bode well for you. The obvious explanation was that they had a liaison. Which seemed entirely ludicrous. You knew Nevers, and although he was quite the charmer, he would not purposefully seduce a young woman in such a difficult position as Aurore. And from what you knew of her, Aurore was proud, full of restraint, and would not fall easily for even the most pleasant man in the kingdom. Still, the uncertainty was eating at you.
You soon decided to ready yourself for bed. You did have to leave early the next day for the two-week-long journey back to Paris. You stood from your chair and put the letter in a safe place before heading toward the privacy screen to undress.
{<div class="choice">(link: "When you were traveling with Peyrolles alone, they were the one to help you put on and remove your clothes.")[
(set: $undressing to "servants")
(go-to: "Peyrolles helps")
] It was not exactly their role, but they did not seem to mind it.</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You undressed alone.")[
(set: $undressing to "alone")
(go-to: "Undressing alone")
] You did not trust anyone enough to get that close to you.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "Peyrolles followed you to help you remove your clothes.")[
(set: $peyrollesromance to 1)
(set: $ptension to 1)
(set: $undressing to "Peyrolles")
(go-to: "Peyrolles helps")
] It was beneath their station, but you enjoyed the intimacy of the ritual. You felt like it brought you closer to them.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ]At home, you would let servants help you with dressing and undressing. But letting Peyrolles do it? You did not think you could. (link: "You would not want your feelings for them to become apparent.")[
(set: $peyrollesromance to 1)
(set: $undressing to "servants")
(go-to: "Undressing alone")
]</div>}
<div class="chapterlink"><span class="chaptertitle">Content warnings</span></div>
(display: "CONTENT WARNINGS")
Would you like to display romance indicators? (a heart will be displayed before each romantic choice) (cycling-link: bind $heart, "No", "Yes")
<div class="chapterlink"><span class="start">[[START->Prologue]]</span></div><div class="cw">//Gonzague is rated ''16+''.//</div>
<div class="cw2">This story includes:
* Depictions of violence, death, murder
* Mentions and depictions of childhood trauma, abusive parents, depersonalization
* Mentions of sexual assault
* Suggestive content</div>
<div class="cw">//As a final warning, in Gonzague you play as the villain of the story. Your character will do some bad things you won't be able to avoid. This is not a power fantasy, however, and the main character will face the consequences of their actions. You decide how they will deal with them and what they learn from them.//</div>
{(if: $ptension is 1)[
You felt a bit awkward staying silent as Peyrolles helped you unbutton your waistcoat. You would usually talk about the day’s events while your companion listened, quiet but attentive. Because of that, you never really were aware of how much care their slender but rough fingers put into unfastening each button. You never really noticed the way they splayed their hands on your collarbone, sliding on the thin fabric of your shirt to slip under your waistcoat and push it down your shoulders.<br />
You found yourself holding your breath and, when they took the garment away, folding it deftly, you allowed yourself to exhale slowly.<br /><br />
They came back, kneeling in front of you, taking your foot on their thigh to unbuckle your shoe. Even the way they gently held your heel to remove your footwear was more delicate than you realized. Peyrolles repeated the same slow gestures with your other foot and when they stood again, they looked up at you, not saying anything, but simply questioning you with their cool gray eyes.<br /><br />
You sighed.<br /><br />
“Aurore gave me a letter. A letter to deliver to the Duc de Nevers,” you finally murmured as Peyrolles started undoing your breeches.<br />
“She knows him?” Peyrolles asked with a faint frown.<br /><br />
You tried not to think of the way their cool fingers felt on your skin when your trousers fell to your ankles.<br /><br />
“She should not know him,” you replied with a deep frown of your own. ”That and the secrecy of it all are highly concerning.”<br /><br />
Peyrolles nodded and kneeled once again to continue their meticulous work. It should not be taking so much time, you thought, not when you were wearing those few and simple layers. You did not complain, however.
]
(else:)[
It was a bit strange, letting Peyrolles unbutton your waistcoat while you stayed stubbornly silent. You usually talked about the events of the day, more for your benefit than for Peyrolles’s. It allowed you to reflect, put things in perspective. You had always found thinking out loud helpful.<br /><br />
As you turned around while Peyrolles slid the waistcoat off of your shoulders, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, hanging above the washbasin. A creeping cold seized your spine. A familiar sensation, yet one you had not felt in years. You shook off the feeling as you turned back to see your factotum delicately folding your garment to put it away. You were glad they did not notice your shivering.<br /><br />
Peyrolles came back and kneeled in front of you to unbuckle your shoes and slip them off your feet. When they stood again, they looked up, their cool gray eyes staring at you questioningly. They knew better than to ask anything outright, but they were letting you know they were awaiting an explanation.<br /><br />
You sighed.<br /><br />
“Aurore has given me a letter, to transmit to the Duc de Nevers,” you finally murmured as they began to unfasten your breeches.<br />
“She knows him?” Peyrolles asked with a faint frown.<br />
“She should not know him,” you replied with a deep frown of your own. “That and the secrecy of it all are highly concerning.”<br /><br />
Your companion nodded and kneeled down once again to continue undressing you. The work should not take too long, the layers of garments being few and simple.
]}
(display: "Choice of garments")
As you started unbuttoning your waistcoat, you caught your reflection in the mirror hanging above the washbasin. You froze when you met the eyes of your image. A creeping cold seized your spine. A familiar sensation, yet one you had not felt in years. You shook off the feeling and let the waistcoat slide down your shoulders. The situation was not that dire yet. As far as you knew, anyway.
You continued undressing, unbuckling your shoes with the help of a footrest, and undoing your breeches.
(display: "Choice of garments")You always wore masculine outfits when visiting the Marquis de Caylus. There could not be any ambiguity about your status as heir to the Gonzague name. A privilege only reserved to men.
{<div class="choice">(link: "It was just as well, you preferred masculine garments anyway.")[
(set: $garmentpref to "masculine")
(go-to: "Gender stuff")
]</div>
<div class="choice">Masculine clothes had their advantages in some circumstances. (link: "Outside of those, however, you preferred more feminine garments.")[
(set: $garmentpref to "feminine")
(go-to: "Gender stuff")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You liked masculine and feminine garments equally and wore what fitted the circumstances as well as your mood.")[
(set: $garmentpref to "both")
(go-to: "Gender stuff")
]</div>}
{(if: $person is "woman")[
You were in a rare situation, although not an unprecedented one. Being given the rights and expectations of a man was unusual for a woman, but it had been done before. Although some people might whisper about it behind your back, either out of fascination or to disparage you, most of them did not dare bring it up in your presence. You bore the title of a Prince, after all.<br /><br />
]
(else-if: $person is "person")[
You were in a rare situation, although not an unprecedented one. While you did not care to label yourself as either a man or a woman, you were still given the rights and expectations of a man. You knew some people whispered behind your back, either out of fascination or to disparage you, but most of them did not dare bring it up in your presence. You bore the title of a Prince, after all.<br /><br />
]
(else-if: $garmentpref is "feminine" or "both")[
Your unusual sense of style did raise a few eyebrows at social events and you knew people whispered behind your back, either out of fascination or to disparage you. But most did not dare bring it up in your presence. You bore the title of a Prince after all.<br /><br />
]}{(if: (history:) contains "Peyrolles helps")[
(display: "Peyrolles helps 2")
]
(else:)[
(display: "Undressing alone 2")
]}{(if: $ptension is 1)[
The thoughts were pushed away from your mind when you felt Peyrolles fingers on your thigh as they slowly slid your stoking over your knee and rolled it down to your ankle. There was purpose in the way they let their knuckles trail down your leg, and if you did not know any better, it would almost look like reverence. But likely, it was only Peyrolles’s love for a job well done.<br />
They repeated the process on your other leg and you observed with some captivation how conscientiously they worked.<br /><br />
Once both stockings were removed, they helped you unfasten your shirt’s cuffs and pulled the last garment over your head, baring you completely. Peyrolles only spared you a glance before they folded and took your clothes away, but it was enough to make you shiver.<br />
While they went to fetch your nightshirt, you turned and took a glimpse at yourself in the mirror above the washbasin. You found yourself poring over the familiar naked form in front of you.
]
(else:)[
You pushed the thoughts out of your mind when Peyrolles started rolling your stocking down to your ankle, before sliding it off your foot and moving onto your other leg. Once both stockings were removed, they rose to their feet to help you unfasten your shirt’s cuffs. They pulled the last garment over your head and you were completely bared.<br />
Peyrolles folded and took your clothes away, and while they went to fetch your nightshirt, you turned and took another look at your reflection in the mirror. You found yourself poring over the naked form in front of you.
]}
(display: "Gender choice")It was not the time and place for such considerations, however, so you moved onto your stockings, rolling them down to your ankles and sliding them off of your feet. Finally, you unfastened your shirt’s cuffs and pulled the last garment over your head. Now entirely undressed, your gaze mechanically turned to the mirror again and you found yourself poring over the bared individual in front of you.
(display: "Gender choice"){(if: $person is "woman" or "man")[
<div class="choice">You did not linger. (link: "No one ever questioned your appearance and neither did you.")[
{(if: $person is "woman")[
(set: $agab to "female")
]
(else:)[
(set: $agab to "male")
]}
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague is a {(if: $person is "woman")[ciswoman](else:)[cisman]}.)//</span></div>
]
(if: $person is "woman")[
<div class="choice">Your hand brushed gently over your flat chest. (link: "Some people might say you did not have the right body to call yourself a woman, but it was none of their business, as far as you were concerned.")[
(set: $agab to "male")
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague is a transwoman.)//</span></div>
]
(if: $person is "man")[
<div class="choice">Your hands gently followed the curves of your hips. (link: "Some people might say you did not have the right body to call yourself a man, but it was none of their business, as far as you were concerned.")[
(set: $agab to "female")
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague is a transman.)//</span></div>
]
(if: $person is "person")[
<div class="choice">Your hands gently followed the curves of your hips. The body of a woman some would say, but it never felt quite right with you. (link: "You were a Prince after all, what did it matter?")[
(set: $agab to "female")
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague was assigned female at birth.)//</span></div>
<div class="choice">Your hand brushed gently over your flat chest. It seemed like something obvious to a lot of people. The body of a man, the title of a man… (link: "But calling yourself a man never felt quite right to you.")[
(set: $agab to "male")
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague was assigned male at birth.)//</span></div>
]
<div class="choice">Your body had been subject to both misplaced scrutiny and unwanted fascination over the years. (link: "To you, it was simply a familiar sight and you did not think it was up to anyone else to decide whether you were a man or a woman or any gender you chose for yourself.")[
(set: $agab to "intersex")
(go-to: "Departure")
] <span style="color: #777777;">//(Gonzague is intersex.)//</span></div>}
{(if: (history:) contains "Peyrolles helps")[
You turned away from the mirror when Peyrolles came back to you and you let them slip the nightshirt over your head. You slid your arms into the sleeves while they adjusted the garment to cover you all the way to below your knees.<br /><br />
“Thank you, Peyrolles,” you said once you were ready for the night. “You can take your leave.”
]
(else:)[
You turned away from the mirror to grab your nightshirt and slipped it over your head. You adjusted the garment to cover you all the way to below your knees. Once you were ready for the night, you stepped out from behind the privacy screen, and your eyes landed on Peyrolles who was still working on packing your trunk.<br /><br />
“Thank you, Peyrolles,” you said, interrupting them. “You can take your leave.”<br /><br />
They looked back at you.<br />
]}
“Monseigneur knows where to find me if there’s further need of me.”
Peyrolles bowed and left your room to find theirs.
You did not spend a restful last night in the Château de Caylus. Your worries kept you awake for a long time and when you did find sleep, it was plagued by strange and suffocating dreams. When you woke up, you felt more exhausted than when you went to bed and your skin was sticky with sweat, your chemise twisted and uncomfortable around your body.
Once washed and dressed, you and Peyrolles finished preparing for the long journey ahead. You met with the Marquis de Caylus and Aurore to say your formal goodbyes and climbed aboard your coach. You tried and met Aurore’s eyes one last time, hoping to figure out where her mind was at, but her stoic expression revealed nothing.
The driver spurred the four horses to start walking and soon they were trotting along sinuous roads across the Pyrénées.
You only resisted temptation for a few hours before you pulled out Aurore’s letter. You turned it in your hands as if doing so would reveal its secrets, but it was still desperately blank. You watched intently, your arms swaying in front of you as the carriage rocked, ambling along the uneven road, your ears full of the rhythmic pounding of iron horseshoes on the ground. The clement weather let sunshine fall through the window, bathing your hands and the letter in bright light, while the rest of your body remained in cool shadows. You looked up and found your companion sitting across from you, in the darkest corner of the coach.
Peyrolles(if: (history:) contains "Undressing alone")[, to whom you had finally explained what the document was and what Aurore expected of you, now that you were far from any prying ear,] looked to you expectantly.
The silence was tense between you and to your surprise, they were the first to break it.
<div class="choice">[[“You could open it.”->You could open it]]</div>
<span style="color: #777777;">//(You can now consult the character sheet.)//</span>
You scoffed.
“And break the seal?”
Peyrolles leaned forward and their hands fell into the light, the pale skin of their linked fingers nearly blinding you.
“You know very well I can find a trustworthy forger to fix it.”
You pursed your lips into a thin, bitter line. You did know this, but you had not resorted to such illegal methods in a while now and you were hoping to keep that streak going. {(if: $resisting > $givingin)[
You would have liked to think you were out of this spiral of shady deals and violence. Things were starting to look up for you, you could not afford to fall back into your old habits. You knew how hard it was to extract yourself from such a life.
]
(else:)[
You had to protect yourself. One shady deal led to another and then people started piecing things together. Your position of power would become more fragile. Too much scrutiny could cause your downfall and you did not want that to happen, you did not want to invite that danger, if at all possible.
]}
On the other hand, your need to know what situation you got yourself into might prevail over such considerations. And a broken seal was hardly the worst thing you had ever done…
You flipped the envelope in your hand one last time, staring at the red wax seal.
{<div class="choice">(link: "You slid a finger beneath the flap and broke it open.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(set: $letter to "open")
(go-to: "Opening the letter")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You did not open it.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(set: $letter to "sealed")
(go-to: "Not opening the letter")
] But you //would// get answers from Nevers.</div>}
Now that the deed was done, your hands moved with purpose. You pulled the letter from the envelope and unfolded it in a couple of swift gestures. You began to read under Peyrolles intrigued gaze.
//Philippe,// the letter started.
//As instructed by you, I am writing, calling once again for your help. I do hope this letter finds you well and healthy, despite the danger I am asking you to put yourself through.
I fear that little Inès is in great peril. She is growing strong, but she is loud at night and I worry she will be discovered. I have managed to keep her several walls apart from my father, but if he ever discovers her existence, I am afraid her very life — as well as mine — would be forfeit.//
Your fingers clenched on the paper and the letter started wrinkling. You had to make a conscious effort to relax your hands and not damage the document any further.
A child? Aurore had a child? Nevers’s child?
//Beyond her physical health, I do not think growing up sheltered this way will be good for her mind. I want her to meet other children, I want her to go out and run in the grass, all the things I could not have during my own childhood. And I know you can give her all that I cannot. That is why I want you to have her. You are a good and honest man and I know you can find her a trustworthy nurse to make sure she wants for nothing.
Meet me at the secret window, in the moats of Caylus, on the last day of August, at midnight. Say your motto, I will open the shutter and give Inès to you. Make sure to come alone so as to not attract any undue attention.//
As unpleasant as this new information was, it was specific and thorough and you were not certain you could have learned as much through Nevers himself.
//If you absolutely cannot make the rendezvous, please notify me as discreetly as you are able. I cannot use Dame Marthe as an intermediary as I used to, for she and I need to stay in the castle at all times to keep an eye on the little one.
Take care, Philippe. I will see you soon, and hopefully, I will be free of my prison just as soon to be at your and Inès’s side at last.//
As you reached the end of the letter and your eyes followed the elegant cursive letters of Aurore’s handwriting, your breath caught in your throat, a painful lump forming there.
//Be assured of my eternal friendship,
Your wife,// the letter concluded.
Your hands moved across the paper, ready to scrunch it into a ball until you realized you had to preserve the letter.
You took a deep breath and uncurled your tense fingers forcefully.
They were wedded. They had a child and married in secret. It was so much worse than every theory you had built up in your paranoid mind. While the ceremony had to take place without the Marquis de Caylus’ accord, giving you some leeway into contesting the union, you doubted Aurore would ever say yes to the $person who broke her marriage. One of love, you had to guess. Or at least, of passion.
It meant Aurore and her fortune were, in reality, inaccessible to you. It meant Nevers had lied to you, hiding this secret marriage from you while fully aware you were actively courting //his wife//.
{<div class="choice">(link: "You felt enraged, you felt powerless, you felt duped.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(go-to: "Duped")
] The Caylus coffers should have been yours, the castle should have been yours. You were this close to finding stability in your power, to turn the page on your troubled past.</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "You felt defeated, drained.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(go-to: "Defeated")
] It never ended, did it? Doomed by your sins and doomed to sin from the start. There was no shred of happiness for you in this world. You had tried so hard to do better, you really did. All for nothing.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "You were heartbroken.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(go-to: "Heartbroken")
] You really felt a connection to Aurore. Deep down, you were really hoping there was a small chance, a slither of possibility that she might return your affection. It now laid shattered at your feet.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "An ache in your heart spiked, threatening to pierce your chest open at the betrayal you felt.")[
(set: $neversromance to 1)
(go-to: "Betrayed")
] Nevers? Of all people? With him, you almost thought that you could let your guard down, that you could afford to be just a little naive. You should have known better than to fall for him.</div>}
“No,” you said, your gaze raising to meet Peyrolles’s. “I will get Nevers to talk.”
“How?” They asked, the smallest line forming between their eyebrows.
“His guilt will not let him keep his secrets from me.”
“It seems to me that this isn’t //just// his secret. Wouldn’t a man of honor protect a noblewoman’s reputation?”
You stared back at your factotum. They made a very good point.
“He would,” you confirmed with a slow nod. “But he also knows I am too close to this affair to refuse me the truth.”
Peyrolles nodded back to show their understanding and they leaned away, acknowledging the conversation was all but over.
“I still think you might miss useful information if you don’t read the letter,” they said nonetheless, their arms crossing over their chest.
You smiled faintly. “Do not worry, little Peyrolles. We have more than one way to acquire information. And before resorting to them… I need to know what the situation //really// is.”
Despite your confidence, you had two weeks ahead of you before you could confront Nevers. Two weeks was a long time to resist the temptation of opening the dreadful letter.
<div class="choice">[[But you resisted all the same.->Traveling]]</div>
Your anger threatened to spill over. You wanted to scream, to tear the letter into pieces, to wring the closest neck you could put your hands on.
You looked up at Peyrolles. Whatever they saw in your eyes, it made them look away in discomfort. It felt like being drenched in ice-cold water and it was enough to dampen your fury, turning it into a dull throb between your temples.
Your factotum was not easily rattled, you knew this. That you could lose control over your expression to the point of disturbing them was alarming to you as well. You handed the letter to them, both as an appeasing gesture and to keep them informed. Besides, while they read it, you would have a little time to recompose yourself.
(display: "Letter open")
For a brief moment, you thought maybe it was time to give up, to let go. To put your future in the hands of fate. Taking control of your life had taken so much out of you, put so much blood on your hands, and dragged you into the darkest places of your soul. You were tired. When would it ever stop?
Your grip around the letter loosened until it was barely balanced on the tips of your fingers. You looked up at Peyrolles, feeling empty. They frowned deeper than you ever saw them frown. Was your expression that concerning? It must have been, yet you could not muster the will to care.
They grabbed the letter before it could fall to your feet and started reading. Good. You did not want anything to do with it anymore.
(display: "Letter open")
What were you thinking, really? That someone like you could have a blissful conjugal life? What a joke! Your soul was stained beyond recognition, you were a monster. A creature such as you could not inspire love. Lust, morbid fascination, maybe, but love? Impossible. That would require for someone to get to //know// you. And then what would be left to feel but repulsion?
You started feeling sick. You looked up at Peyrolles and pressed the letter into their hands. If you looked at it any longer, the roiling sensation in your stomach would threaten to make you disgorge. Your factotum frowned deeper than you had ever seen them frown. Did you look that obviously sick? No matter. You had to find a distraction.
(display: "Letter open")
A whirlwind of questions made your head spin. When was the child born? When did they marry? Did Nevers’s behavior change in the past months? Was he growing more distant with you? Why did you not notice anything?
//Why did he not tell you?//
There was no point in asking yourself such questions when you could not answer any of them, when you were in too much pain to even think. The tight feeling in your heart crawled up to your throat, suffocating you. The words on the letter bled on the paper as your vision blurred. Looking at it any longer served no purpose. You glanced up at Peyrolles and all but threw the paper onto their lap.
Diverting your gaze from them, you focused on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply to calm your fraying nerves.
(display: "Letter open")You looked through the glass pane separating you from the warm and bright landscape beyond the cold shadows of your carriage. The sun was smiling down on the hilly countryside you were traversing. It was only a door away from you, yet it seemed like there was a whole world between you and the cheery image panning in front of your eyes.
The sunlight made it hard to see it, but a glimpse of your reflection was there, its $eyecolor eyes staring back, darker than usual. You did not want to look at it, not yet.
When your gaze returned to Peyrolles, they were done reading the letter. Their jaw was set and a determined scowl was clouding their features.
“What do you need of me, monseigneur?” They asked, their voice cool and even.
{(if: $peyrollesromance > 0)[
<br />A faint smile appeared on your lips, to your own surprise.<br /><br />
“Ah, my dear Peyrolles. Ever the reliable retainer.”<br /><br />
They did not reply, but you were almost certain something in their expression softened.<br /><br />
“I need you to do what you suggested,” you continued. “To find a forger and make sure the letter looks untouched when I deliver it to Nevers.”
]
(else-if: $givingin > $resisting)[
“What do you think?” You replied harshly. “Find me that forger. I need the letter to look intact when I deliver it to Nevers.”
]
(else:)[
“As you suggested yourself, little Peyrolles,” you replied with a raised eyebrow. “I need a forger and I need this letter to look intact when I give it to Nevers.”
]}
“And then?” Peyrolles added, no emotion in their flat tone.
You sighed deeply, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.
“I do not know. I need to think.”
<div class="choice">And think you did. [[You had two weeks to do so before you could even think of confronting Nevers.->Traveling]]</div>
The journey proceeded without incidents. You did not linger a minute longer than was absolutely necessary in each inn you stayed at. You asked your driver to push the horses as much as possible and had to change them multiple times. It was an expense you should have reconsidered, perhaps, given your situation’s precarity. But your patience was stretched thin. You could not stay in the miserable state you dipped in and out of every other day.
{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
The ignorance was eating at you and your mind was coming up with more and more ludicrous explanations for the letter Aurore had you deliver.
]
(else:)[
The knowledge that all your plans had fallen apart was enough to veil your thoughts with a dark shroud. But despite the amount of information you gathered from the letter, you still felt like there was a crucial, missing piece.
]}
Despite your haste, traveling through the Southern half of France at the heart of summer was still excruciating. As soon as you left the higher altitudes of the Pyrénées, the heat became suffocating inside the confines of your carriage. The shade provided by the curtains helped somewhat, but it was a relief to leave the coach every night to find refuge behind cool stone walls.
The weather became milder a week into your journey, when you reached Limoges, which you were grateful for. You were not as accustomed to the heat as you used to be in your youth, when you would visit your family in Mantua.
Unfortunately, without the heat to slow your mind, you only grew antsier with each more day of travel. You only started to find some relief when you crossed the Loire and arrived in Orléans.
<div class="choice">[[The next day, late in the evening, the carriage finally stopped in the Hôtel de Gonzague’s courtyard.->Arriving in Paris]]</div>
You had sent word of your early arrival ahead of time, yet the few servants in your employ still seemed a bit frazzled when they hurried to unload your trunk from the coach.
You sighed with relief as soon as you set foot on the pavement, Peyrolles shadowing you. Soon, you noticed your steward approaching, holding a lantern high.
“Welcome home, monseigneur,” Madame Domont greeted you. “Monsieur de Peyrolles.”
Your companion nodded at her.
“My good Madame Domont, I am terribly weary. Could you have the staff ready a bath for me while we eat supper?” You asked as your only salutation while you started to walk toward the house’s main entrance.
“Of course, monseigneur,” the steward replied with a sober bow of her head.
The hôtel was an elegant building, but hardly dissimilar to the many residences the nobility had recently built in the capital. It was U-shaped, with high walls and tall wooden doors protecting a front parvis. Some other nobles liked to use iron gates to let the envious glimpse at their wealth, but you favored privacy.
The short Madame Domont at your side, you climbed the small flight of stairs that led to the open arched doors of your domicile.
Your steward was an unusual choice, the post habitually given to men. It was a position of authority in the household after all, and you were all too aware that it was considered a masculine domain, whether you agreed or not — you did not, of course. Beyond that, it required an education that other servants may not have had access to, especially not women. An education Madame Domont acquired thanks to the peculiar circumstances of her childhood, as you understood it.
Of course, you were more than happy with Madame Domont’s work. Not only was she an impeccable steward, but she was grateful and loyal to you for giving her the position. It predisposed her to keep some of your more domestic secrets close to her chest. Like the fact that half of the hôtel de Gonzague stood empty.
You had to sell many possessions to clear the debts attached to the Gonzague name. While you made sure to keep the most public rooms of the hôtel exquisitely furnished, you could not afford to maintain more than this. You made sure that no one would know of this to keep your prestige in court, as well as no one knew that all of your other properties were all but abandoned. All your friends and all of high society were here, in Paris or Versailles, anyway. You had no use for a countryside castle.
“You have received several letters, monseigneur…” Madame Domont started as a servant rid you of your coat.
“I have had enough of //letters//,” you interrupted her with some irritation.
The steward frowned, examining you over her silver-rimmed glasses. “One of them was delivered with a bouquet of flowers by a courier who insisted you might want to read the missive most urgently.”
<div class="choice">An urgent letter? With a bouquet? [[Intriguing.->Another letter]]</div>
Madame Domont noticed your pensive expression.
“The bouquet was put in a vase in your study, along with the letter, should you wish to read it tonight,” she informed you.
“Thank you, Madame Domont.”
She bowed and took her leave, likely to check on how supper was coming along in the kitchen. You watched the middle-aged woman walk away with impressive speed. Meanwhile, Peyrolles took it upon themself to inspect the hôtel’s security, checking all entrances and exits as well as interrogating the staff.
With little else to do until your meal, you decided to succumb to curiosity and climbed the grand stairs, heading toward your study.
When you entered, the first thing you noticed was that each light fixture had been supplied with fresh candles, all of them lit. They could not chase away all of the night’s shadows, but the office was as bright as it would ever get at such an hour.
The study was of a comfortable size, with enough room for a wide secretary and a decent library with freshly upholstered armchairs for reading. The drapes were drawn in front of the two tall windows, giving the room needed privacy.
Needed because the second thing you noticed, standing proudly in a tall dark blue vase on top of your desk, was a bouquet of pale carnations. Exactly like the ones that killed your brother. You felt the blood drain from your face as soon as you saw it. Your gaze fell on the letter, resting against the foot of the vase. You walked up to it in a daze and watched your trembling hands grasp the paper as if they belonged to a stranger. The wax seal bore no arms. You broke it and pulled the letter out of the envelope. Unfolding it, you attempted to read the sharp, unadorned handwriting, but the shaking of your fingers made it difficult.
You took a deep breath in the hopes it would calm your nerves.
<div class="choice">[[Once your hands were steady enough to allow you to do so, you read.->You read]]</div>
//Prince,
Should I call you Prince? Was that title not meant for your dear brother? Of course, he cannot claim it now that he is conveniently six feet under the ground. No, you are the Prince, and what was to belong to him is now yours.
You owe that to those beautiful carnations the little Philippe used to receive weekly, and then daily, do you not? That and the arsenic you sprinkled on top, of course. But are you not forgetting another ally in this endeavor? There was a boy who you paid five sous for each delivery. Five sous might have seemed like a treasure to the lad at the time, but it is cheaply paid for murder, do you not think?
Thankfully the boy has held onto ten-year-old receipts to help you fix that mistake. Deliver five thousand livres in the abandoned house on rue Saint-Honoré, near the corner with rue du Chanvre, or those receipts will find themselves on the King’s desk by the end of the month.
Your childhood friend,
Whose name you never enquired about.//
A blackmail letter. And for your very first crime, no less. Of course. You were young, inexperienced, you did not think of erasing all traces of it at the time. But if it had to come back to haunt you, why now? If there was a God, it seemed He was intent on finally causing your downfall.
Five thousand livres… You could barely scrape such a sum at the moment. But if the letter spoke true, you would lose far more than just money lest you followed the directions you were given.
You tried to gather your thoughts. Was there a boy? You remembered a starving street rat, nothing beyond that. Dark brown eyes lighting up with hope when the coins fell into their little hands. The way you remembered it, it was a life saved for a life taken. A fair deal, by your account.
But it seemed the rat had learned their letters and had grown hungrier.
{<div class="choice">[[In a fit of rage and fear, you wiped your secretary clean of all the baubles littered across its surface, including the vase which crashed loudly onto the expensive Persian rug.->A fit of rage]]</div>
<div class="choice">[[You walked to the hearth and threw the letter in the fire before letting yourself fall into one of the armchairs, a growing empty feeling taking over your mind.->An empty feeling]]</div>}
Water and, unfortunately, ink slowly soaked into the colorful fibers as you looked down at the consequences of your deed. Pieces of broken glass and porcelain were scattered on the ground, along with a couple of office supplies and the appalling carnations. Small droplets of dark scarlet were rolling down your palms and joining the water and ink stains on the rug. You must have cut yourself in your anger.
Hurried footstep approached and a couple of servants entered the study.
“Monseigneur? What happened? Are you alright?” A concerned maid asked.
You stared at the two of them and they stared back. They were seeing you in a moment of weakness. That could not happen.
“Out!” You yelled at them before you could think better of it.
The servants scampered out of the room, probably more worried than they were when they entered it. You sighed heavily. You only made things worse. Bending down, you picked the letter back up and walked to the hearth. You threw the paper into the fire and watched the flames consume the fateful words and fresh blood stains.
A few moments later, someone else knocked on the open door of the study.
<div class="choice">[[Peyrolles.->Peyrolles comes in]]</div>
You stayed a long time like this, staring in the distance, pushing away any and all emotion. You did not want to think, you did not want to feel. The cold seeping into every one of your bones was easier to deal with.
Eventually, a maid came knocking at the door. You did not answer, yet she cracked it open after a long moment of silence.
“Monseigneur?”
You sat still.
“Madame Domont sent me to tell you supper is ready,” the maid announced with hesitation.
You had no word to offer her. In the absence of a reaction on your part, the young woman retreated. She had done what she was asked to after all.
Minutes passed by during which you did not move a muscle. Deep down you knew you had to show yourself at the dinner table, save face. But you just could not. You feared any food you would put on your tongue would turn into bitter ashes.
You indulged in your lethargy for a moment too long. It was now Madame Domont who stood in the study’s doorframe.
“Will you not eat, monseigneur?” She asked as if the situation was entirely ordinary.
She knew it was not.
“I am not hungry,” you replied, your voice sounding so far off it almost seemed like someone else was answering in your stead.
“Are you certain? You have had a long day of travel, monseigneur…”
“I am certain,” you cut her off dryly, narrowing your eyes at her.
The steward nodded briefly but did not leave the room yet. Her eyes fell on the empty envelope beside the vase with the carnations.
“Bad news, monseigneur?”
“Bad news,” you confirmed without elaboration.
When she finally turned away to leave, you called her.
“Madame Domont. Please throw away the flowers.”
“Of course.”
She curtsied briefly and picked up the vase before leaving the room in decided steps. You were not too surprised when a third person showed up at the door moments later.
<div class="choice">[[Peyrolles.->Peyrolles comes in]]</div>
“I am alright,” you informed them with no small amount of irritation.
“If monseigneur says so,” came the flat answer.
Yet your factotum did not move. {(if: (history:) contains "A fit of rage")[
Their gaze fell down to the cuts on your hands.<br /><br />
“I’ll fetch some bandages.”<br /><br />
With that, they left and you sighed wearily, letting yourself fall into the nearest armchair. Peyrolles came back moments later and was soon kneeling beside you, taking your hand in theirs to delicately clean the wounds with a soaked cloth. (if: $peyrollesromance > 0)[
You watched them work with a feeling too close to fondness for comfort.
]
]}
“I have my first very own blackmailer,” you finally admitted with a wry smile when the silence became unbearable.
“The letter?” Peyrolles asked, {(if: (history:) contains "A fit of rage")[
briefly looking up at you
]
(else:)[
sitting across from you
]}.
Silence settled in the study for a tense moment during which the ticking of the tall clock’s pendulum seemed unpleasantly loud. {(if: (history:) contains "A fit of rage")[
Peyrolles moved onto your other hand, wiping it with an even deeper frown on their brow.
]
(else:)[
Peyrolles’s frown had become deeper, their concern more evident than usual.
]}
“Was it… A mistake I made?” They asked and you heard them swallow down thickly.
So that was what worried them so. Did they fear your anger?
“No, it was… It was before,” you reassured them, your voice lowering to a murmur.
“You should take pride in knowing I was sloppier than you,” you added with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood.
“We all start out sloppy,” Peyrolles replied coolly.
It was enough to silence you. They were undoubtedly referring to the blackmail material you held against them yourself. {(if: (history:) contains "A fit of rage")[
Despite that, they kept working on your hands with infinite care, wrapping bandages around the cuts.
]
(else:)[
Despite that, they stayed seated and leaned forward, looking at you with attentive eyes.
]}
You really could not figure them out.
“Do you really have to pay? Can’t we do anything?” They asked, breaking the quiet.
“I don’t know enough to take the risk of not paying… For now. Have the house watched. Who knows. Maybe our blackmailer is sloppy too.”
You smiled crookedly, without humor. You had little hope surveying the comings and goings around the house would yield any results, but it was somewhere to start. If the blackmailer asked for more ransoms in the future — which was what you expected — they may eventually leave a clue about their identity. Only then would you be able to take on the offensive.
“It’ll be done,” Peyrolles assured you {(if: (history:) contains "A fit of rage")[
as they tucked in the last end of your bandages.<br /><br />
They stood up and
]
(else:)[
as they stood up.<br/><br />
They
]} bowed sharply before making their way out of the study.
Maybe you could finally find some rest now.
<div class="choice">[[The Lord knew you needed it before you would have to find Nevers and give him Aurore’s letter.->Cocardasse and Passepoil]]</div>
{(if: $letter is "open")[
It took a few days for Peyrolles to get the letter resealed by a forger, days you took advantage of to recuperate after your journey home. Of course, the sudden apparition of yet a new problem — your blackmailer — added to your exhaustion.<br />
Once Peyrolles came back with Aurore’s missive intact — their forger truly did an exceptional job, you would not have been able to tell the letter had been opened at all if you had not done so yourself —, you contacted your friends, the Duc de Nevers and the Duc de Chartres to meet with them.
]
(else:)[
As eager as you were to tear the truth out of Nevers, you took a few days to recuperate from your journey home. Of course, the sudden apparition of a new problem — your blackmailer — contributed to your exhaustion.<br />
You needed to have all your strengths before meeting back with your friends the Duc de Nevers and the Duc de Chartres, for their favorite activities included partying all night long and fencing, both requiring quite a bit of stamina.
]}
It was without surprise that you found yourself invited to join them at Masters Cocardasse’s and Passepoil’s fencing school on a dark and stormy afternoon.
The two men-at-arms turned teachers had bought a handsome house in the capital, built during the previous century, to pass down their art to wealthy gentlemen. A much safer and more lucrative business than being a sword for hire, you suspected. But however peculiar the two friends were, you had to admit their expertise. Nevers was known as the most talented swordmaster in the kingdom, so the fact that he chose Cocardasse’s and Passepoil’s school to sharpen his skills was a testament to the quality of their instruction.
The building itself was a timber-framed, three-story house, with stone walls on the ground floor and cob ones on the upper levels, which were supported by cantilevers on the front facade. Inside, the masters had refurbished a large banquet hall into a salle-d’armes.
It was where you found them, already in the boisterous company of Philippe de Nevers, all three men engaged in an enthusiastic conversation while a couple of other gentlemen were practicing, and doing a poor job of it, without the masters’ advice.
It was hard to see Nevers so joyful, {(if: $letter is "open")[
especially after learning of his secret wedding with the woman you were courting
]
(else:)[
especially knowing that he maintained some kind of secret relationship with the woman you were courting.
]}
But he always had a big bright smile beneath his neatly trimmed mustache, thick lips always parted on healthy, pearly white teeth — except for that one chipped tooth creating an endearing gap in the front row. His constant sunny disposition had a way of softening the effect his impressive physique had on people. Nevers was incredibly tall, taller even than Cocardasse who was towering over everyone else in the room himself. But not only was Nevers’s height impressive, his muscle-bound, barrel-chested build also gave pause to anyone who even thought of antagonizing the man.
Not that there would be many. If his appearance was not enough to frighten the most hardened fighters, his fencing reputation, and his famous and secret technique, the Nevers thrust, would deter them.
Besides, Nevers was too friendly to have enemies in the first place. Everything in his figure radiated his warmth, from his deep olive skin to the halo of tight and dark curls framing his amicable face.
When the man’s soft brown eyes, framed by early laugh lines, found you, his expression brightened even more and he beaconed you.
<div class="choice">[[“Gonzague! You have to hear this!”->The best fight of his life]]</div>
You smiled politely and walked up to the trio. You did not want anyone to see the resentment you were feeling toward the Duc. Yet Nevers must have felt your lack of enthusiasm and his own smile lost a bit of its luster.
“Good day, messieurs,” You greeted him as well as the sword masters.
“You honor us, monseigneur,” Corcadasse welcomed you, his southern accent softening each consonant while he made a grand show of bowing to you.
“Indeed, your very presence humbles us,” Passepoil reinforced, bowing even lower.
Much less formal, Nevers stepped up to you, resting a meaty hand on your shoulder, squeezing affectionately.
“It has been too long, my friend,” he said, quieting his deep voice.
His eyes scanned you, likely trying to figure out the cause of your reserve.
“I was merely gone for a month and a half,” you pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
It was enough for Nevers to find his happy mood once again. He laughed, the sound bright and loud, bouncing off the wide room’s walls and making the other students stare.
“Without training? That is enough time for your wrist to get rusty!” He declared, turning toward Cocardasse and Passepoil. “Do you not agree, my masters?”
The taller man of the duo looked down at the tiled floor sheepishly, while his ever so courteous shorter friend grimaced. Asking them to pick a side between the two of you was likely more painful to them than physical torture.
“I’m certain it could happen to a lesser fencer than the Prince,” Passepoil eventually answered with a honeyed smile.
Cocardasse nodded enthusiastically, his mop of dark coiled hair bouncing along. “My thoughts exactly. My good friend Amable has a way with words I don’t possess.”
“I am sure he does,” you replied with a lopsided smirk, half-amused and half-annoyed by the masters’ theatrics. “What was this story I needed to hear?“
Nevers looked utterly delighted by your interest, you could almost see stars in his eyes.
“You would not believe what just happened!” He exclaimed. “I just had the best fight //in my entire life!//”
You plastered an indulgent smile on your lips, but you could not deny you were curious. Anyone who could give Nevers a hard time had your interest.
“Good Cocardasse and Passepoil introduced me to this young lad… What is his name again?” He said, looking to the masters.
Passepoil joined his hands together and his blue eyes lit up beneath the stringy dark blond strands of hair scattered on his forehead, looking like a father who had just witnessed his toddler’s very first steps. “Our little Henri…”
“Henri! Well, imagine this, Gonzague, we just had a spar, Henri and I. Oh, you would love this little man, he has such spirit! Anyway, we were crossing foils and he had the best form I had ever seen! Of course, I had to try my thrust. Believe me or not, this little Henri //almost// had the parry!”
You blinked at him, feeling the blood drain from your face. “But there is no parry…”
You would know, you had tried many times to find one, in vain. It was a bit of a sore spot. You prided yourself to be an excellent fighter yourself and your survival instincts pushed you to always make sure you could best any opponent.
“Well, Henri had one,” Nevers retorted, putting his fists proudly on his waist. “It did not entirely work, but…”
“It //nearly// worked,” Passepoil was keen to correct, which came as a surprise.
“You have to understand, messeigneurs,” Cocardasse intervened, seeing your expression. “We have trained the boy since a very young age. He’s like a son to us.”
“Or a very close nephew,” Passepoil suggested with a nod.
“So you see,” the taller man continued, ignoring his friend. “It’s a point of pride for us.”
“Everything he knows, he has learned from us,” Passepoil added.
“Well… You have taught him the art of killing his neighbor most excellently,” Nevers said with an amused grin, throwing a conspiratory glance at you.
The two swordmasters were flustered and blushing as if they had been paid the highest compliment, unaware of Nevers’s light jab.
<div class="choice">[[But before they could thank him with their customary profusion, the salle-d’armes’ doors opened to let the Duc de Chartres in.->Chartres]]</div>
Everything came to a stop in the room, each gentleman removing their protective mask to greet the Duc. If they had not all met him in person before, there was no mistaking his royal blood. His Bourbon nose was unmistakable, even if he somehow managed to wear it with a dash of impudence. And if that was not enough, his importance was made obvious by the lavish silks he was wearing, and by the two servants sporting exquisite liveries who shadowed his every step.
Chartres never went anywhere without a luxurious powdered wig and some rouge coloring his fair cheeks and lips, toeing the line between tasteful and outrageous. He always made sure to make heads turn, whether it was to attract scandalized stares or covetous ones.
His gaze embraced the room, passing by the bowed heads with obvious boredom. His expression lit up, however, as soon as he found you and Nevers.
“You are already here, perfect!” He declared walking up to your group so fast that his two attendants nearly had to run to catch up with him. “The trilogy is once again complete.”
Turning to you, he lightly touched your arm, a gesture just as affectionate as Nevers’s welcome, if a little more delicate.
“It will be so nice to have you back, Gonzague. The soirées in Saint Cloud have been so dull without your morose face among the adoring crowds.”
“Why, thank you, Philippe,” you replied with your flattest tone.
Chartres grinned at you, raising a finger to tap your chin. “You are very welcome, Philippe.”
The King’s nephew turned his gaze to Cocardasse and Passepoil nodding politely at them, a respect he rarely showed, even to people of much higher birth.
“Master Cocardasse, Master Passepoil, do not let my presence interrupt your art.”
The two men-at-arms were bowed so deeply you could not see their eyes anymore.
“Monseigneur is too gracious,” Cocardasse replied when his spine finally found back its upright position.
“You lot, go back to work!” The Gascon bellowed with a far less gentle tone to the gentlemen who had interrupted their training. “You won’t know how to hold a sword gaping like that, capédédiou!”
The students rushed and took their positions to resume their practice session. Meanwhile, Chartres did not seem in any hurry to get ready for his. He found a seat on one of the benches placed against the room’s bare stone walls and looked at you and Nevers.
“Are you not going to fight? I am in dire need of entertainment.”
You and Nevers exchanged a glance. What you needed was to see him alone to deliver the letter. Of that, you gave your word. But it would be difficult to do so with Chartres’s attention fixed on you.
{<div class="choice">(link: "You decided to spar with Nevers to get Chartres off your back.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sparring")
] Besides, you needed to see how out of practice you really were.</div>
<div class="choice">You were not in the mood for fencing. (link: "You excused yourself to talk to Nevers alone.")[
(set: $suspicion to it + 1)
(go-to: "No sparring")
]</div>}
“Oh, we //will// fight,” you reassured Chartres with a subtle smile. “We would not want me to become //rusty//, now, would we?”
“No, we would not,” Nevers confirmed, a wide smile gracing his features, as per usual when he was promised a match.
You both prepared yourself, removing your coats and belts, putting on your plastrons, gloves, and masks before each taking a foil out of the weapon racks.
When you took your places, facing each other, the salle-d’armes turned quiet, the students interrupting their training again. This time Cocardasse did not reprimand them. There was always something to learn by watching Nevers fight.
Passepoil stood between you, ready to signal the start of the bout.
“En garde!”
You positioned your feet, knees bent, pointing your foil at your opponent whose face you could not see behind the leather mask. You suspected Nevers’s smile was still firmly in place, however.
“Allez!” Passepoil shouted while stepping back.
The word made your blood rush and you lunged at Nevers, fully intent on making this a challenge for him.
Your offensive was quick and aggressive, putting Nevers on the defensive. Passing backward, he had no difficulty parrying and circling your blade, his always close to yours, matching your speed.
When you almost had him against the wall, he sidestepped your last attack and pushed forward. You crossed his foil with yours with a first, panicked and wide parry when the button of his weapon came close to touching your chest. It was your turn to back up, countering each of Nevers’s attacks. Refocusing on your technique, your movements returned to precise needlework, your foil almost never parted from Nevers’s, the grinding of iron against iron resounding in the room.
Despite the perfection of his technique, his feints, and the reach given by his sheer size, he could not find a way past your weapon. And you nearly made it look as easy as he did. But if you wanted to win, you had to take a risk.
Nevers lunged, then cut over the tip of your foil, but you saw the feint coming and you circled his blade to counter the attack, advancing, stepping into his space, your blade nearly slicing through his plastron. You were close enough to hear him gasp in surprise before he jumped to the side, making the other students back up to give you more room.
Nevers let out a breathy laugh as you circled each other. “Master Passepoil was right after all. You did not lose any of your edge.”
{<div class="choice">(link: "“Of course not,” you replied with a grin he could not see. “I make sure to keep my skills sharp so you do not walk away from our encounters… //dissatisfied//.”")[
(set: $ntension to 1)
(set: $neversfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Flirting")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "“I cannot say the same about you,” you retorted. “Are you going soft on me or did that previous sparring session take the wind out of you?”")[
(set: $neversfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Heckling")
]</div>
<div class="choice">[[“While I appreciate the compliment, I would prefer if you let your weapon do the talking,”->Less talking]] you responded sharply.</div>}
“So that Nevers can nick my forehead with that thrust of his again?” You replied with a crooked smile. “No, thank you.”
“I am always very careful not to,” Nevers protested, visibly disappointed.
“Very well,” Chartres sighed, equally let down. “I guess I will have to do a practice bout myself.”
You watched him slowly raise from his bench and glanced at Cocardasse and Passepoil.
“Why not spar with the masters?” You suggested. “Nevers is quite tired after a match I am sure he will tell you about in great detail later.”
“I am?” Nevers blinked at you, startled to hear you speak on his behalf.
You gave him a warning look and it was enough for him to play along.
“Yes! Right! You would do better to train with the masters,” he confirmed too eagerly.
Chartres narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the two of you. He did not like to be left out of any potential gossip or scandalous affair. Meanwhile, Cocardasse and Passepoil were all too happy to believe their precious Henri had exhausted the great Duc de Nevers.
Master Cocardasse stepped forward with a big smile beneath his thick unfashionable mustache.
“It would be an honor, monseigneur!”
“Alright,” Chartres relented with little enthusiasm. “I doubt I could beat even a tired Nevers, but if he does not wish to spar…”
Nevers grimaced.
“ I do not…” He said slowly and it was probably one of the fattest lies he had to enunciate in his whole life.
Chartres narrowed his eyes further, looking less convinced by the second. Thankfully, Cocardasse was already helping him get ready for the session, distracting him.
You pulled on Nevers’s sleeve to get his attention.
“Let us go to the courtyard, I need to speak with you,” you murmured as you leaned closer.
<div class="choice">[[Nevers nodded and followed you outside.->Outside]]</div>
Nevers laughed again, a little awkwardly. Was he embarrassed by the innuendo?
“That is, huh… very thoughtful of you,” he said haltingly and you could have sworn his ears had turned a dark shade of red.
“Less flirting, more fighting,” Chartres complained from his bench.
You glanced at the Duc and he was pouting, likely more let down that he was not the target of such attentions than by the lack of action.
“If it pleases the Duc…” You said before launching a new series of assaults on Nevers.
(display: "Sparring 2")
Never chuckled, hardly vexed by your taunts. “The former, of course. You know I would hate to hurt you, my friend.”
“It will not happen, unless you //actually// try,” you remarked before launching a new series of assaults on the Duc.
(display: "Sparring 2")
Nevers chuckled heartily, your taunt amusing him more than it riled him up. “If it pleases you…”
You did not give him the time to take the initiative and launched a new series of assaults on the Duc.
(display: "Sparring 2")You put all your might into each strike, the clashing of the blades loud enough to make some gentlemen in the room jump. Nevers seemed surprised by the vigor you put into this friendly bout and so were you. Maybe you were acting out on your frustrations a little more than you intended.
It did not matter. You were in it now and you kept pursuing Nevers relentlessly, pushing him back so fast that you both nearly traveled the whole length of the room, scattering more students along the way.
Nevers kept up with incredibly precise footwork, getting nowhere near tripping despite your efforts. After a masterful parry, he returned the situation to his advantage and lunged at you. You were prompt to counter, refusing to back down and you found yourselves locked in place, each of you stubbornly refusing to take a step back and unable to take one forward.
The exchange lasted too long, your arm becoming sore and your breath heavy. The air was hot and thick with the promise of thunder, making your shirt stick unpleasantly to your skin. Yet you kept parrying Nevers’s every attack. Until he went for it.
The Nevers thrust. You could see it, you recognized it, the foil aimed high. But there was nothing you could do to stop it, your blade unable to find a grip on his with the way he angled it, twisting his wrist.
The button of the foil cut through your mask, between your eyes, tearing it off your face forcefully.
You stared at the useless piece of leather at your feet, stunned, heart pumping wildly against your ribs.
“God almighty!” Nevers swore loudly. “I am so sorry! Did I hurt you?”
You heard his boots slamming on the flagstones as he rushed up to you, throwing his foil to the ground in a thundering clatter. You looked up at him and he had removed his mask, revealing genuine concern. You brought a gloved hand to your forehead, touching the burning spot on your brow. When you pulled your fingers away, there were just the smallest red spots on the leather.
“I am sure it is only a scratch,” you reassured Nevers.
Your pride was wounded far deeper. If it had not been a friendly sparring match, the Duc’s sword would have pierced right through your brain and you would lie dead on the stone floor. The thought would not leave your mind.
“You were pushing me so hard, I — I reacted too forcefully,” Nevers started blabbering, regret making him flustered.
You forced an amicable smile on your lips.
“No real harm done,” you said to appease him, even if it was through your teeth.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked resolutely, very decided to make things right.
The fool did not realize that sometimes, there was nothing to be done.
You glanced to the side, looking at the windows opened on the school’s courtyard.
“Actually, I just need some air… Come with me?”
<div class="choice">[[“Of course!”->Outside]] Nevers answered eagerly, following you outside.</div>
The atmosphere was hardly pleasant in the courtyard. The heat grabbed you by the throat, making it hard to breathe. The sky was darker still, gray clouds hanging low and motionless, a faint rumble rolling in the distance.
“Is… anything the matter?” Nevers asked and you looked at him.
The man could be… a little clueless at times. But even he could see the storm coming.
You pulled the envelope from your waistcoat and handed it to him. He glanced at the blank paper with a frown and slowly took it from your extended hand.
“What is this?” he asked, confused.
“Can you not tell?” You retorted, barely containing your hostility.
He took a better look at the envelope, turning it around. His gaze lingered on the seal for a moment until his face snapped up, olive complexion turning sickly as he stared back at you.
“How… How did you get your hands on this…?” He asked, voice trembling.
{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
You felt some small victory at his unease, but it also confirmed your fears. Whatever was in this letter, it was serious.
]
(else:)[
You felt some satisfaction, seeing him squirm, but not nearly enough to dampen your anger.
]}
“She gave it to me. Asked me to hand it to you secretly,” you replied, your voice cutting through the thick summer air.
Nevers looked between you and the letter.
“She must have had no other choice…” He mumbled, more to himself than for your benefit.
You scoffed. “She entrusted me with it because, apparently, I am your friend.”
Nevers did not miss the sarcastic edge in your tone and he winced.
“I am sorry, I could not tell you anything. It was not just my secret to tell,” he said, (if: $letter is "sealed")[unknowingly echoing Peyrolles’s words, ]his voice quiet and soothing.
Unbearable.
{(if: $letter is "open")[
<div class="choice">[[“Do you not think I would have had to find out eventually?!”->You read the letter]] You exploded.</div>
]
(else:)[
<div class="choice">[[“What secret, Philippe?!”->You didn't read the letter]] You exploded.</div>
]}
“How much do you know?“ Nevers asked with the smallest voice you had ever heard from him, his face livid.
The thunder cracked, closer and louder than before and the rain started to fall, the cool drops prickling your heated skin through your clothes.
“A secret correspondence between a sequestered young woman and a gallant gentleman? Come on, Nevers! The shame on your face is all the proof I need,” you spat at him, your bitterness very real despite the lie. {(if: $neversromance > 0)[
“I know all too well how easy it is to fall in love with you!”<br />
“$firstname…” Nevers said too softly, taking a tentative step toward you, his features twisting painfully.<br />
“No!” You exclaimed, taking a step back.<br /><br />
You did not want to let him appease you, you did not want him to take away your anger, and you did not want to forgive. You knew how effortlessly he could smooth things over if you would just let him close enough.<br /><br />
“You cannot talk your way out of this one, Nevers!”
]}
“I am so sorry, Gonzague, I truly am,” he insisted, as the rain grew stronger, thick sheets of water sticking his dark curls to his face. “I wish I could explain, but…”
His warm brown eyes looked dull in the gloom, but you saw the shine of tears in them. You could not let that mellow your ire, you would not.
“I will not compromise Aurore’s honor,” he continued, pursing his lips stubbornly. “Can you understand that, at least?”
A bolt of lightning ignited the courtyard with stark, cool light for a brief moment, making the gathering rainwater on the flagstones shimmer. The roar of thunder shortly followed.
{<div class="choice">(link: "“I can,” you admitted quietly, your lips tightening into a thin, bitter line. “It does not fix anything, but I can.”")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(set: $neversfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "It doesn't fix anything")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "“It is not her honor I question, Nevers, it is yours!”")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(go-to: "I question your honor")
] You yelled at him, fists tight, arms trembling.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "“Even if that means trampling my heart along the way?!”")[
(set: $neversromance to 2)
(go-to: "Trampling my heart")
] You screamed, your vision blurring with your own tears.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "“You could never even if you tried!” You spewed at him. “You knew I was pursuing her, you knew I…”")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(if: $neversromance is 1)[
(set: $neversromance to 2)
]
(go-to: "You knew I loved her")
]<br />
You could not finish, you were too raw to expose your feelings for Aurore right now.</div>}
Nevers blinked, taking an involuntary step back, away from your ire.
“As I said, it is not //mine// to tell…” He attempted the excuse again.
“Is it not //mine// to know, Nevers?” You asked sharply. “I am too involved not to know what is going on between you and Aurore!”
The Duc deflated, his head hanging low in shame and defeat. The thunder cracked, louder, closer than before, and the rain started to fall, cool drops piercing your heated skin through the fabric of your shirt.
“Aurore and I… are married,” he admitted, his voice nearly a whisper.
The shock of the revelation threw you off balance.
“You are… what?!”
You could not have heard correctly. An affair, you could fathom, but a marriage?
“That is not all…” Nevers continued. “There is a child… A little girl, Inès. I had to marry Aurore in secret, I had to. It was the honorable thing to do.”
So you did hear correctly.
How could it be? It was worse, oh so much worse than anything you had anticipated. Your plans were thoroughly thwarted. You could not wed Aurore. You could not get your hands on the Caylus fortune. And with that blackmailer threatening you now…
You were ruined. Everything was falling apart.
{<div class="choice">And it was all Nevers’s fault. (link: "Your anger felt like melted iron coursing through your veins.")[
(set: $givingin to it + 1)
(go-to: "Anger like melted iron")
] </div>
<div class="choice">(link: "The resentment you felt was nothing compared to the exhaustion washing over you.")[
(set: $resisting to it + 1)
(go-to: "You were done")
] You were done. You were so done.</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ](link: "Beyond the catastrophic situation you found yourself in, what hurt the most was the thought that you had lost Aurore even before you could have her.")[
(set: $auroreromance to 1)
(if: $neversromance is 1)[
(set: $neversromance to 2)
]
(go-to: "You lost Aurore")
]</div>
<div class="choice">(if: $heart is "Yes")[♥︎ ]You felt betrayed and heartbroken. You knew nothing could ever happen between you and him, and yet… (link: "A blistering pain was gripping your heart.")[
(set: $neversromance to 2)
(go-to: "A blistering pain")
]</div>}
“Thank you,” Nevers breathed out, relief flooding through him.
“Do not expect me to forgive you, however,” you warned him.
It shocked him into a stunned silence. There was nothing to be said anyway. You had given him the letter, you knew all there was to know, all you cared to know. No amount of talking could reverse the situation and you both knew that.
You had to leave. You turned on your heels, walking back toward the salle-d’armes. {(if: $neversfriendship > 1 or $neversromance > 0)[
But before you could enter the building, Nevers grabbed you by the elbow, making you turn around.<br /><br />
“$firstname, please… You cannot leave it like this,” he begged you, a flash of desperation in his eyes.<br />
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
<br />In a moment of weakness, you let him touch you, his large, warm hands roaming your arms and shoulders, making sure you were still there, that you were not gone forever yet.<br /><br />
“I am sorry, I am sorry,” he kept repeating again and again as if it could undo everything. “I wish things could be different, I truly do…”<br /><br />
He pulled you to his chest and you let him, cupping your face with thick and rough fingers, his lips pressing a soft and slow kiss to your forehead(if: (history:) contains "Sparring")[, near the scratch he had caused earlier]. You closed your eyes, drinking in the touch. You knew it would be the last one, so you held onto it like a castaway to $their raft. {(if: (history:) contains "Sparring")[
But the wound on your forehead was only surface-level pain, he could not soothe the deeper one, no matter how badly you wanted him to.
]
(else:)[
But the comfort it brought was only skin-deep, he could not heal the festering that twisted your insides with a simple kiss, no matter how badly you wanted it.
]}<br />
You peeled yourself away from his embrace, slowly, painfully, removing his hands from your body, one at a time.<br /><br />
“No, no…” Nevers murmured, face contorted in agony, but he did not dare stop you this time.<br /><br />
Once again, you turned away from him.
]
(else:)[
“Watch me!” You retorted sharply, tearing your arms out of his grip.
]}
]}
<div class="choice">[[You stepped through the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
How could he act like the gentleman? He had wronged //you//, taking away what was meant to be //yours//, and lying about it too. Once again, he had to have //everything//, and you were left with nothing.
{(if: $givingin > 5)[
You could kill him, right here and right then. Only a shred of awareness was holding you back. If you acted on your anger, you would be done for. Everyone in the salle-d’armes would know it was you. You were cold-blooded enough to bide your time.
]
(else:)[
Your fury was nearly blinding, your thoughts rushing through your mind without stopping. You wanted to hit something, to break and tear, but a shred of awareness was holding you back from acting on your anger. As monstrous as you were, you were not ready to give into your worse instincts… yet.
]}
Nevers did not contradict you, turning his gaze away, his lips tightly sealed. It was baffling. You had made sure to aim where it would hurt the most. The Duc did not have the pretension to declare his honor above reproach, but you knew he always made every effort to keep it intact. He sometimes feigned being just as licentious as you or Chartres, but he was not fooling either of you.
Yet he did not say anything to defend himself. He stood quietly as the rain hammered down on him, droplets shattering on the wide line of his shoulders. You stared at him, waiting for a response, anything.
“You have every reason to…” He finally murmured with a shake of his head.
And that was it. He had ruined you and you had no explanation, no justification. Furious, you turned on your heels, walking back toward the training room. {(if: $neversfriendship > 0 or $neversromance > 0)[
But before you could reach the door, a large hand grabbed your elbow, pulling gently but firmly until you turned around.<br /><br />
“$firstname, please… Do not leave it like that.”<br /><br />
You tore your arm out of his grip.<br /><br />
“How else am I supposed to leave it? There is nothing either of us can say to make this right!” You argued.<br />
Nevers watched you, his empty hand still raised. “But I care about you, I do not want our friendship to end…”<br />
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
“Our friendship?!” You yelled, your lungs igniting with fury. “Is that what you call //it//?!”<br /><br />
His hand dropped to his side and he watched you, shellshocked and horrified.<br /><br />
“I… I did not mean… I…” He mumbled helplessly.<br />
“Whatever you think //it// is, it is over!” You cut him, your voice giving out and trembling as you turned around once again.
]
(else:)[
“Well you should have thought of that before!” You yelled out, your voice betraying an emotion you loathed.<br /><br />
You could not stay a moment longer in his presence.
]}
]}
<div class="choice">[[You stepped through the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
Nevers stared at you, shocked, horrified.
“No, no…” He mumbled and took a wavering step in your direction. “I never meant to… I…”
“And yet you did! Why?!” Your voice was giving out, breaking under the strength of your distress.
You were forgetting yourself, you were giving in to weakness, and you had to get a hold of yourself. You knew this, but you were too far gone to listen to reason, your entire body shaking with rage and despair.
“I wish I could tell you, I truly do,” Nevers pleaded, another step closer to you.
You did not have the will to back away anymore. You were too tempted to let his voice, his gentle words lull your anger to sleep. Maybe if he just touched you, maybe if he kissed you, you could forgive him?
But forgiving him would not change anything. He had ruined you.
{<div class="choice">Still, you had to try. It was your last chance. (link: "You grabbed the collar of his waistcoat and pulled him to your level, letting his mouth crash against yours.")[
(set: $neversromance to 3)
(set: $ntension to it + 1)
(go-to: "Kiss Nevers")
]</div>
<div class="choice">[[You stood still, closing your eyes when you felt his large, warm hands on your arms, pulling you to him, the magnetic force too strong to resist.->Letting him embrace you]]</div>
<div class="choice">No, it was well and truly over. [[You pushed him away.->You pushed him away]]</div>}
His righteous mask fell off, and remorse was the only thing distorting his features now.
“Oh, $firstname… It all happened before you told me of your intentions of courting her. Had I known… I am so sorry.”
He could apologize again and again, but it did not change the fact that, because of him, you could never have Aurore. You could never know the feeling of her lips on yours, the warmth of her touch on your skin, or the way your true name sounded in her voice. If you had not started developing those inconvenient feelings for her, maybe you could move past this, maybe it would not hurt so much.
As it was, your heart might have been bursting into flames, it would not have felt any less pleasant.
“Why did you not stop me then?” You asked, trying to make sense of all this.
“I tried!” Nevers protested and you scoffed, staring at him with utter disbelief.
“You tried? Those mild reservations you brought up? That was it?”
“Yes…” He mumbled, his head hanging low in shame.
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
You brought a hand to your forehead, trembling fingers wiping down your face as a joyless chuckle escaped your lips.<br /><br />
“And here I thought you were jealous…”<br />
“Jealous?” Nevers frowned in his confusion.<br />
“Once again, I have been a fool. To delude myself into thinking you could feel that way about me… How far down have I fallen?”<br /><br />
Nevers looked stricken.<br /><br />
“$firstname…” He murmured, taking another step toward you.<br /><br />
This time you did not have the will to back away.<br /><br />
“I could never be jealous, not if you were with someone who makes you happy…”<br /><br />
You closed your eyes as soon as you felt his rough but tender fingers reach for your cheek, his hand cupping the side of your face.<br />
However tempting it was to let him touch you and soothe your anger with his warmth and kind words, it would not help.<br /><br />
“Now it can never happen,” you said, nearly despite yourself. “And it is all your fault.”<br /><br />
His hand dropped from your face. When you opened your eyes, you saw pain altering his expression and filling his eyes with tears.<br /><br />
“I did not want this, I promise, I did not mean to hurt you…” His voice was breaking as he apologized, again and again, the words losing meaning the more he tried.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You turned away, unable to bear his presence anymore, and you walked back inside.->Back inside]]</div>
]
(else:)[
You brought a hand to your forehead, wiping trembling fingers down your face.<br /><br />
“You should have told me.”<br />
“As I said, the secret was not //mine// to tell,” Nevers insisted.<br />
“Was it not //mine// to know, Nevers? With how involved I am?” You asked him sharply and once again, he averted his gaze.<br /><br />
He stood silently in front of you, with no response to give you, no explanation, no justification.<br /><br />
“I am sorry…” It was all he could repeat.<br /><br />
But it did not help, it could not help. You turned away, marching back toward the salle-d’armes. {(if: $neversfriendship > 0)[
Before you could reach the door, Nevers grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.<br /><br />
“$firstname, please, do not leave it like this,” he pleaded, his voice breaking on the words.<br />
“You cannot fix this,” you retorted, tearing your arm out of his grip.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You walked through the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
]
(else:)[
<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You walked through the threshold, entering the building without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
]}
]}
Warm candlelight welcomed you, as well as the familiar sound of foils clashing against each other. Fortunately, everyone seemed too busy to notice your emotional state. You took advantage of the moment of respite to compose yourself. You inhaled deeply in an attempt to slow your heartbeat, the blood pumping at your temples threatening to turn into a migraine.
“Gonzague!”
Chartres was the first one to notice your return, of course. You forced a pleasant smile and prayed it did not look as brittle as it felt. He interrupted his match, disengaging from Master Cocardasse to walk up to you.
“Dear Lord, you are soaked to the bones! What possessed you to stay so long in the rain? And where is Nevers?”
“Still outside. I am sure he will not be long,” you replied.
“I certainly hope not!” Chartres exclaimed, his hooded eyes examining you with too much curiosity in their dark blue irises for comfort.
You had to excuse yourself before he started suspecting anything.
“I should go back home, get a change of clothes,” you said, brushing past him to get your coat and sword.
“So soon?” Chartres drawled, following you, his disappointment obvious.
“I am sorry, Chartres,” you replied with a quick smile. “We will have other opportunities to see each other soon.”
You shrugged your coat on and fastened your belt. As soon as you were ready, you walked back toward the entrance.
“Master Cocardasse, Master Passepoil…” You nodded at the two men-at-arms.
“Travel safely, monseigneur,” Passepoil replied with a bow and unnecessary flourish.
Chartres stared at you, seemingly conflicted, while you turned away and left the building.
You walked quickly under the rain and climbed aboard your carriage, waiting for you. Your driver, who had found shelter from the rain under a covered passage, hurried back to his seat.
You were about to order him to drive you home when the door of your coach was thrown open and an agile silhouette climbed inside. The Duc de Chartres sat in front of you, at the edge of the cushioned bench, both his hands splaying on your own seat as he leaned in, dangerously close.
“Not so fast, Gonzague,” he said with a grin. “Are you avoiding me?”
{<div class="choice">You were all too familiar with the lazy gaze that traveled up and down your body. (link: "You slept with the Duc de Chartres on occasion. It was the fashionable thing to do after all.")[
(set: $orleansfwb to 2)
(go-to: "Slept with him on occasion")
]</div>
<div class="choice">His familiarity was hardly a surprise. (link: "You had your fun with him in the past, but your relationship had grown more platonic over the years.")[
(set: $orleansfwb to 1)
(go-to: "Had your fun with him")
]</div>
<div class="choice">[[Your friendship had always been chaste, despite the rumors.->Chaste friendship]] Chartres liked a good scandal, so he did little to stop the gossip from spreading.</div>}
Nevers hummed in surprise against your lips, yet he was prompt to respond, his fingers wrapping around your waist, hauling you close. You moved against him jerkily, sloppily, grabbing fabric and pulling again and again. His tongue was all too happy to meet yours when you pushed your way past his soft lips. He was so warm, against your mouth and against your stomach when you curved your spine to fit better against him.
You kissed him hard and he responded tenderly, his fingers gently caressing you through the fabric of your shirt, slipping under your waistcoat. You were ashamed of the pitiful whimper that escaped your lips while your skin burned under his touch. In response, a deep moan made its way from his lungs to his mouth, resonating throughout your entire body, making you shiver under the heavy rain falling on both of you.
That was when his lips parted from you. You chased after him.
“No… No..” He said, his voice husky. “I should not… I…”
His hands took a firm hold of your arms, locking you in place as he moved away. Refusing you.
“I am sorry, I am so sorry,” he muttered weakly.
And that settled it. There was no forgiving. No way back. No path forward. Fate had been sealed.
<div class="choice">[[You turned away, rushing back inside.->Back inside]] You could not be in his presence anymore.</div>
His embrace was all-encompassing, his arms wrapped around your back to fully enclose you, keeping you nestled against his chest. You sighed, your breath trembling against his {(if: $height is "tall")[neck](else-if: $height is "medium")[collarbone](else:)[exposed chest]}, and you relaxed in this warm and soft cocoon. You were protected from the cold needles of the heavy rain falling down on both of you. You wished to believe that if you did not leave his arms, maybe you could be protected against everything else too.
It was all too easy, with the gentle way his fingers hiked up to cup your face, lifting it up so his lips could press tender kisses to your forehead(if: (history:) contains "Sparring")[, near the spot he had scratched with the tip of his foil]. You wished it could heal you, soothe the pain.
But it could not, for he was the one who caused it. And soon, Aurore would take her rightful place in his arms from you. She already had, in fact. How many times had he embraced her in such a way, you wondered? Was his touch even gentler with her? Or did it rouse more passionate feelings in him?
Those intrusive thoughts jolted your anger awake. You pushed him away, hard, wanting to scream and cry, the feeling of betrayal leaving a searing mark on your heart, one there was no healing from. Instead, you stumbled away from him, disoriented by the overwhelming feeling.
“$firstname…” Nevers called you, begging.
“You cannot make this better,” you replied, turning away.
You could not bear his presence anymore. You had to leave.
<div class="choice">[[You walked back toward the salle-d’armes and passed the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
Nevers stared at you as if you had run your blade through him.
“$firstname, please…” He begged, but you were already turning away.
Before you could reach the salle-d’armes’ door, he grabbed your elbow, too gently to really stop you. But the heat of his hand burning through the linen of your shirt was enough to make you halt.
“Please, do not leave it like this…” He pleaded again, his voice rising in pitch with desperation.
You did not answer anything, simply tearing your arm out of his grip. There was nothing he could say that would make things better and there was no point in dragging out this painful conversation any longer.
<div class="choice">[[You walked away from him, his presence now intolerable, and stepped back inside.->Back inside]]</div>
You were so close to losing control. You wanted to scream, you wanted to break something. You could go back into the training room, get your sword, and run it through him…
{(if: $givingin > 5)[
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed the way Nevers backed away from you, looking away from your intent gaze. What did he see?
]
(else:)[
As soon as the thought crossed your mind, you swallowed it back, made to feel uneasy by how quickly your mind took that direction. Nevers was staring back at you, brow lowered in apprehension.
]}
“Gonzague, I… I am sorry, truly…” He mumbled, his discomfort visible.
The rain was growing stronger, sticking his dark curls to his face. You closed your eyes, feeling the cold water wash over you as you took deep, shaky breaths. You forced every one of your muscles to relax, unclenching your fists one finger at a time.
You could not act on your anger, not here, not now.
“Sorry does not remotely suffice,” you said, as calmly as you could.
Your voice still had a dangerous waver to it.
“There is nothing else I can offer,” Nevers replied with a desperate edge in his tone.
You opened your eyes when a lightning bolt ignited the courtyard, bathing it in stark, cool light for a short instant, and making the gathering rainwater on the flagstones shimmer. The roar of thunder followed shortly.
“I know,” you said, turning around.
You had to think, you had to leave and figure out a new plan, something, anything. {(if: $neversfriendship > 0 or $neversromance > 0)[
But before you could reach the salle-d’armes’ door, Nevers grabbed your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.<br /><br />
“$firstname, please…” He begged, his own voice cracking.<br /><br />
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
Your heart was hammering in your chest when you looked back at him, seeing his eyes a dull brown in the gloom, shining with tears. It was tempting to let him soften you, with gentle words and even gentler touches. But you could not, you would not.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You tore your arm out of his grip, slowly, achingly, and marched on, entering the building without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
]
(else:)[
You tore your arm out of his grip. There was nothing he could say that could mellow your fury. You would not let it.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You stepped through the threshold.->Back inside]]</div>
]}
]
(else:)[
<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You walked to the salle-d’armes’ door and entered the building without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
]}
The rain was growing stronger and when you brought both hands to your forehead, your skin was soaked. You dragged your trembling fingers over your face and let out a joyless chuckle.
“That is… That cannot be true…” You mumbled to yourself.
“$firstname…” The sympathy in Nevers’s voice was intolerable. “I am so sorry…”
He approached you and you stepped back, your shoulders hitting the stone wall. You let yourself slide down to the flagstones.
“Sorry is not going to cut it, Philippe,” you replied, shaking your head.
“But I have nothing else to offer,” he said, his pitch rising with desperation.
“I know.”
Your voice was as empty as you felt, echoing through the cavernous hole that was your chest.
Nevers sat beside you, with as little regard as you had for the pooling rainwater on the floor.
“$firstname, please tell me what I can do to make things better,” he begged, his voice breaking painfully.
“Nothing,” you replied as hollowly as before, although the warm water gathering in your eyes had little to do with the cold rain.
You watched straight ahead, at nothing in particular, as a lightning bolt ignited the courtyard with stark, cool light, making the slick surface of the flagstones shimmer for a brief moment. The roar of thunder followed shortly.
“Please do not say that.”
You looked at Nevers and his usual warm brown eyes were dull in the gloom, shining as much as yours did, you suspected. His dark curls were sticking to his skin, dripping water and giving him a pitiful appearance. You could not stand it, you had to leave and think. Make new plans. Anything. As long as you were away from him.
{(if: $neversfriendship > 0 or $neversromance > 0)[
You moved to stand up but Nevers grabbed your shoulder, locking you in place.<br /><br />
“Do not leave, not like this,” he pleaded, his features contorting in pain.<br /><br />
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
The warmth of his hand was what shocked you into immobility, his hold too gentle to truly force you to stay. His fingers were squeezing your shoulder, a tender gesture, and a panicked one.<br /><br />
“What else would you have me do?” You asked coldly, staring into his eyes, even though you knew how dangerous it was.<br />
“I…”<br /><br />
He looked away, not knowing what to say but franticly searching.<br /><br />
“I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness…”<br />
“No you cannot,” you confirmed.<br />
“But surely our friendship must mean something…”<br /><br />
The word struck you to your core, giving you the energy you needed to shrug his hand off. You jumped to your feet, staring daggers down at him.<br /><br />
“Friendship?!” You screamed at him, the word like barbs on your tongue, tearing it bloody. “That is what you call //it//?!”<br /><br />
Nevers’s eyes were wide with terror as he watched you spit the words out at him.<br /><br />
“Whatever //it// is, it is over, Nevers!” You yelled, your voice wavering.<br /><br />
You walked back toward the salle-d’armes, hearing Nevers scramble to his feet behind you.
]
(else:)[
You shrugged his hand off and stood up regardless. You could not let him soften your anger.
]}<br /><br />
“No, no…” He uttered, panicked, but you ignored him.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[You stepped through the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
]
(else:)[
<br />
<div class="choice">[[You stood up, walking back toward the salle-d’armes and stepping through the threshold.->Back inside]]</div>
]}
Of course. What did you expect? Blissful conjugal life? Of course that could not have happened, of course, Aurore would prefer a man like Nevers. Right from the start, you did not have one chance. Handsome, charming, and kind, he had everything anyone could want in a partner. You? Your soul was stained beyond recognition, you were barely human anymore. The choice was simple.
You stood still, shocked into immobility, staring at Nevers. He was looking back at you, concern growing in his brown eyes, their usual warmth turned dull in the gloom. The rain was becoming stronger and sticking his dark curls to his face.
“When?” You asked, dragging a trembling hand across your face.
“Over a year ago, before you… Before you told me of your intent of courting her.”
So they were already married and he did not say anything? You glared at him, your anger jolted awake by the revelation.
“I tried to stop you, I-I did!” He stammered, guessing your train of thought.
You blinked at him. Did he? You gathered your memories of your past discussions on the matter.
“Those mild reservations?!” You exclaimed, scoffing in disbelief. “That was you trying to stop me?!”
“I… Yes.”
He averted his eyes, shame coming back to haunt his features. You chuckled joylessly.
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
“And here I thought you were jealous.”<br />
“Jealous?” He asked, frowning with confusion.<br />
“I cannot believe how much of a fool I was,” you continued ranting bitterly. “To delude myself into thinking you had any feelings of the sort toward me… Truly, I have never fallen so low.”<br /><br />
Nevers stared at you, stunned, an expression quickly turning into something too soft for you to bear witness. You looked away just as he stepped forward.<br /><br />
“$firstname…” He murmured, his voice painfully gentle. “I could never be jealous. You deserve to be loved, to find happiness, even if I cannot be the one to provide it.”<br /><br />
Rough fingers reached out, brushing the skin of your cheek, dragging your attention back to his eyes, shining with unshed tears.<br /><br />
“You know that I care about you, do you not?” He asked so quietly you were not sure if you heard it or imagined it.<br /><br />
His large hand felt so warm as it cupped your face and you closed your eyes, drinking in the gentle caresses of his thumb against your cheekbone. But the comfort it brought you was only skin-deep. Nevers could not soothe the deeper hurt, not when he was the one to have caused it.<br /><br />
“And yet… You have taken away all of my chances at love and happiness,” you said, voice cracked.<br /><br />
His hand dropped from your cheek and you opened your eyes to see his face contorted with pain. A bolt of lightning ignited the courtyard, bathing it in a stark, cool light for a brief moment, making the gathering rainwater shimmer. The roar of thunder followed shortly.<br /><br />
“I never meant to hurt you, you cannot know how sorry I am,” Nevers choked up.<br />
“It will not fix the damage you have done,” you spat back, turning away.<br /><br />
You had to leave, his presence becoming unbearable. You marched toward the salle-d’armes’ door.<br /><br />
“No, no…” You heard Nevers plead desperately behind you.<br /><br />
But you ignored him, you had to.
]
(else:)[
“In what world could that have sufficed?”<br /><br />
Nevers had no answer for you. You watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed, still unable to meet your eyes. A bolt of lightning ignited the courtyard, bathing it in stark, cool light for a brief moment, making the gathering rainwater shimmer on the flagstones. The roar of thunder followed shortly.<br /><br />
“I am truly sorry…” He murmured after a silence that dragged on for too long.<br /><br />
You could tell he meant it, but it did not matter. It did not change the fact that, because of him, you could never have Aurore, know what her lips would feel like on yours, or how warm her touch would be on your skin, or even what your real name would sound like in her voice.<br />
Maybe you could get past this, if not for the inconvenient feelings you had developed for her. As it was, your heart could have been bursting into flames, it would not have been less pleasant.<br /><br />
“Sorry does not remotely cut it,” you replied, your voice shaking with rage and despair.<br /><br />
You turned away. You had to leave, you could not stand Nevers’s presence anymore.<br /><br />
“No, no… Wait,” Nevers begged, but you ignored him.
]}
<div class="choice">[[You stepped through the threshold without looking back.->Back inside]]</div>
“So this is it…” You murmured, voice cracked, breaking under the strength of your distress.
You hated how weak it made you sound.
“$firstname…” Came the too-soft response, Nevers taking a step toward you, hand reaching out.
But you backed away from it, from him. You wanted to be angry, not comforted.
“How could you?!” You spat at him.
He let his hand drop to his side as he stared back at you. His usual warm brown eyes looked dull in the gloom and there was the shine of tears in them. The rain was growing stronger, sticking his dark curls to his face, water dripping pitifully from the coiled strands.
“I wish I could tell you, I truly do,” Nevers replied quietly. “I am so sorry.”
It made no sense. His response made no sense, his actions made no sense. It was driving you insane. You started pacing in front of him, bringing both hands to your forehead, dragging trembling fingers across your face.
A bolt of lightning ignited the courtyard, bathing the scene in stark, cool light for a brief moment, making the gathering rainwater shimmer on the flagstones. The roar of thunder followed shortly.
“I thought we…” You started breathily, interrupting yourself, too scared of voicing your feelings. “Was I wrong? This whole time, was I wrong?”
Nevers took another step in your direction and this time you did not have the will to withdraw.
“No, of course not,” he murmured, his voice too warm and gentle.
It was tempting you. What if you let him lull your anger to sleep? Maybe you could forgive him, if only he touched you, if he kissed you…
But it would not change anything. You were still ruined.
{<div class="choice">Still, you had to try. It was your last chance. (link: "You grabbed the collar of his waistcoat and pulled him to your level, letting his mouth crash against yours.")[
(set: $neversromance to 3)
(set: $ntension to it + 1)
(go-to: "Kiss Nevers")
]</div>
<div class="choice">[[You stood still, closing your eyes when you felt his large, warm hands on your arms, pulling you to him, the magnetic force too strong to resist.->Letting him embrace you]]</div>
<div class="choice">No, it was well and truly over. [[You pushed him away.->You pushed him away]]</div>}
You sighed, rubbing your temple with one hand while he took the other in his.
“No, I am not avoiding you, Philippe,” you replied as if lecturing a child. “I simply want to change before I get sick.”
He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles in a way that was anything but polite.
“But you have been gone for so long,” Chartres whined as he slowly covered your hand with kisses. “And now you show up for five minutes and then you are gone? Can you not stay a moment longer? I have missed you.”
You smiled faintly. “You will miss me a lot more when I die of pneumonia.”
“Fine,” Chartres conceded as he continued his tender attentions on your hand. “Let me come with you and help you, then. It will be my honor to rid you of your clothes and to make sure you stay warm.”
You made a sound — between a scoff and a chuckle — at the shameless proposal.
{<div class="choice">{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
[[But you really were not in the mood.->Kick him out]] Nevers’s revelation was still heavy on your mind.
]
(else:)[
[[But you were not in the mood, not after that fight with Nevers.->Kick him out]]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: $neversromance > 0 or $auroreromance > 0)[
Actually… You felt a dark desire growing in you, one of revenge. If you could not have {(if: $auroreromance > 0)[Aurore](else:)[Nevers]}, you could have Chartres. (link: "Maybe it was petty, but you needed this right now.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sleep with Chartres")
]
]
(else:)[
(link: "Actually, maybe that was exactly what you needed to get your mind off your troubles.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sleep with Chartres")
]
]} <span style="color: #777777;">//(sleep with the Duc de Chartres)//</span></div>}
Still, your history together provided a certain amount of closeness that would not have existed otherwise. Chartres was always more tactile with you than with Nevers. You sometimes wondered if he missed being intimate with you.
Not that he had not plenty of options to choose from, should the need arise — and it did quite often if you believed the accounts of his escapades.
“No, I am not avoiding you, Philippe,” you replied slowly, bringing a hand up to massage your temple. “I simply want to change before I get sick.”
Chartres watched you, his mischievous expression turning into a concerned frown. He took your other hand, brushing a soothing thumb over your knuckles.
“Truth be told, you already do not look too well. It is not just the rain, is it?”
You stared back at him. You had allowed him to grow far too close to you and now he could see more than you would like. You had to find something to keep him off track.
You sighed purposedly. “Alright, I will admit, I have become ill during my stay in the Château de Caylus. I cannot say I recommend the Marquis’s hospitality.”
You smiled wryly and Chartres grinned back.
“Recovery has been a little difficult, that is all.”
The Duc nodded, seemingly buying your lie.
“Alright,” he concluded with a sigh. “Then please take your time to rest and come back to us in full health. I will let you go change.”
He stood, opened the door, and started to exit the carriage, but as he was balancing himself on the foothold, he turned around, leaning in with a suggestive smirk.
“… Unless you wish my help for the undressing part?”
{<div class="choice">[[You pushed him off the coach and into the rain as a response.->Kick him out]]</div>
<div class="choice">You were pretty sure he meant it as a joke. Yet you were tempted to accept the shameless proposition. {(if: $neversromance > 0)[
You felt this dark desire for revenge. (link: "Maybe it was petty, but if you could not have Nevers, at least you could have Chartres.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sleep with Chartres")
]
]
(else-if: $auroreromance > 0)[
You felt this dark desire for revenge. (link: "Maybe it was petty, but if you could not have Aurore, at least you could have Chartres.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sleep with Chartres")
]
]
(else:)[
(link: "Maybe it was exactly what you needed to get your mind off your troubles, at least for a few hours.")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Sleep with Chartres")
]
]} <span style="color: #777777;">//(sleep with the Duc de Chartres)//</span></div>}
You were not too bothered. Your reputation suffered little from it and if it was the price to pay to be friends with a member of the royalty… So be it.
You brought a hand up to massage your temple while Chartres settled on the seat in front of you.
“No, I am not avoiding you,” you replied slowly as if lecturing a child. “I simply want to change before I get sick.”
His lips curled into a juvenile pout. “But you were gone for so long. I only see you for five minutes and you are already gone? I know you like to think everyone hates you, but some of us truly have missed you.”
The comment made you pause. You had to wonder. Did he truly miss you or the scathing comments you made about other nobles he enjoyed so much? Could he even tell the difference?
No matter, you had to get rid of him before he started suspecting something was off.
“You will miss me a lot more when I die of pneumonia,” you pointed out flatly.
“Alright, alright, I will leave you be,” Chartres replied with a chuckle.
He leaned in, resting his hand atop yours for a short moment. “It is good to see you again. Take care of yourself, Gonzague.”
<div class="choice">[[With that, he opened the carriage’s door and jumped off.->Kick him out]]</div>
{(if: $orleansfwb is 2)[
“Alright.”<br />
Chartres looked up from your hand to meet your gaze. “Alright?”<br />
“That is what I said,” you replied with a raised eyebrow.<br /><br />
He grinned at you and leaned through the open door to order your driver to get going. The man was likely surprised, but without any contestations on your part, he spurred the horses forward.<br />
Chartres moved from his seat to settle beside you, a casual arm draping over your shoulders.
]
(else:)[
“What if I said yes?” You asked carefully.<br /><br />
Chartres stared at you, stunned.<br /><br />
“Are you? Saying yes?” he replied slowly as he stood still on the foothold, holding onto the roof of the carriage.<br /><br />
You observed him for a quiet moment. His surprise was confirmation enough that he only meant the proposal as a jest, but his dark blue eyes were now a hungry black and you saw the unmistakable way his tongue slipped out to wet his lips.<br /><br />
“I am,” you confirmed.<br />
“Yes to me undressing you?… And more?”<br /><br />
Despite his growing trepidation, his tone was hesitant.<br /><br />
“Yes,” you replied with an amused smile. “Now get back in or you are the one who will catch death.”<br /><br />
Chartres grinned at you. He looked at your driver and ordered him to get going. The man was likely surprised, but without any contestations on your part, he spurred the horses forward.<br />
The Duc climbed back in and settled beside you, a casual arm draping over your shoulders.
]}
He did not ask any more questions, all too happy to play along. It was something you could appreciate about the man. He simply enjoyed sex and there was nothing more to it than that. In fact, during the short trip to the hôtel de Gonzague, he already had a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
When you arrived, you were welcomed by Peyrolles in the foyer. They did not show their surprise when they saw the Duc de Chartres at your side, greeting him politely. (if: $peyrollesromance > 0)[You did notice, however, the prolonged stare they gave you before leaving, whatever it meant.] Servants hurried to take your coats and no one asked questions when you climbed the stairs together and headed for your apartments.
Your bedroom was nearly as dark as if it was late in the evening, with such weather. You did not mind, it gave you and your afternoon partner an intimate setting.
On one end of the room, a few embers were still making the firewood crackle comfortingly in the hearth, behind the privacy screen.
The bed chambers were elegantly furnished, but not in excess. You had rid yourself of most of the paintings that used to hang on the walls. Family portraits. You did not want the stern face of your father to watch you as you slept in the four-poster bed.
The one fantasy you allowed yourself was the small spinet standing near one of the tall windows. An odd place for such an instrument, but when you played, it was not to entertain guests. Besides, there was a much more ornate harpsichord in the living room, downstairs.
You could sell one or the other, but you had yet to find the will to do so.
But for now, the spinet was the least of your concerns. As soon as the door was closed, Chartres’s hands were on you. As promised, he helped you undress, making a thorough and sensual job of it. You soon took the matter to the bed.
{(if: $orleansfwb is 1)[
It was a bit of a clumsy affair. It had been a few years since you had explored each other in such a way and you had to rediscover your bodies as well as what made them tick. But you eventually found a familiar rhythm and Chartres would not quit until you were completely satisfied.
]
(else:)[
You had done this often enough that he instinctively knew what was comfortable and pleasurable to you. He set out to work and your bodies fit together in a familiar way as you started a long afternoon of erotic recreation.
]}
The Duc was not one to take such activities too seriously. With him, the point was to have fun and it showed in his teasing and his jokes. His joyful mood was communicative and, despite your dreadful state of mind, you found yourself smiling more than once, if not laughing.
Once you were both wrung out, you stayed entangled a little while longer in the comfort of your cotton sheets.
<div class="choice">[[It was evening by the time Chartres kissed your bare shoulder before climbing out of bed.->After sex]]</div>
{(if: $orleansfwb is 2)[
“Not today, Philippe,” you replied firmly.<br />
Chartres’s lips curled into a disappointed pout and he sighed dramatically. “Alright, I will leave you be, then, and return to my cold, empty bed.”<br /><br />
The grin that illuminated his face shortly after made it obvious he was hardly hurt by your refusal. He kissed your hand one last time.<br /><br />
“Take care, Gonzague. I do not lie when I say I have missed you. And not just your delightful buttcheeks warming my bedsheets at night.”<br /><br />
You pursed your lips and moved to push him out of the carriage but he chuckled and jumped out before you could.<br /><br />
]}You watched him rush to find cover back into Cocardasse’s and Passepoil’s school before ordering your driver to depart.
You spent the short trip to the hôtel de Gonzague in grim silence with nothing to distract you from your concerns. What were you going to do now?
When you arrived in your home’s foyer, you were welcomed by Peyrolles, who took your coat instead of the usual servants.
“How did it go, monseigneur?” They asked while following you up the stairs.
{(if: $letter is "open")[
“As well as it could have,” you replied dryly, before snapping your mouth shut, your lips pinched tightly.<br /><br />
Peyrolles stayed quiet, waiting for you to elaborate, keeping up with you as you climbed the steps two by two.<br /><br />
“I gave him the letter, we argued. I do not think he will notice the fraud, if that is what you are concerned about,” you added after the pause.<br /><br />
Your factotum did not reply to that either.<br /><br />
“I need to get rid of these wet clothes,” you sighed as you reached the landing.<br />
“Of course, monseigneur.”<br /><br />
{(if: $undressing is "Peyrolles")[
Peyrolles kept pace with you as you walked down the corridors to your bedroom. Good. Now of all times, you needed them to be here, you needed to feel their careful touch on your skin.
]
(else:)[
Peyrolles bowed their head and you parted ways. Good. You needed time alone to ponder the day’s events.
]}
]
(else:)[
<br />
You kept quiet for a moment. Were you ready to revisit what you had learned?<br /><br />
“I need to get rid of these wet clothes, first,” you replied after a while.<br />
“Of course, monseigneur.”<br /><br />
{(if: $undressing is "Peyrolles")[
They kept pace with you as you reached the landing and walked down the corridors to your bedroom. Good. Now of all times, you needed them to be here, you needed to feel their careful touch on your skin.
]
(else:)[
As soon as you reached the landing, your factotum bowed their head and you parted ways. You knew you would have to catch them up on the situation, eventually, but for now, you needed time. And you needed to be alone.
]}
]}
With such weather, your apartments were nearly as dark as if it was late in the evening. You did not mind. It matched your mood quite nicely.
On one end of the room, a few embers were still making the firewood crackle comfortingly in the hearth, behind the privacy screen.
The bed chambers were elegantly furnished, but not in excess. You had rid yourself of most of the paintings that used to hang on the walls. Family portraits. You did not want the stern face of your father to watch you as you slept in the four-poster bed.
The one fantasy you allowed yourself was the small spinet standing near one of the tall windows. An odd place for such an instrument, but when you played, it was not to entertain guests. Besides, there was a much more ornate harpsichord in the living room, downstairs.
You could sell one or the other, but you had yet to find the will to do so.
For now, the spinet was the least of your concerns and you directed your steps toward the heat of the fireplace.
{(if: $undressing is "Peyrolles")[
Peyrolles followed you and pulled fresh clothes out of your armoire to hang them on the wooden screen before helping you undress. The process was not as smooth as usual, the damp fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin as they peeled it off of you. Still, Peyrolles’s hands were gentle as they worked their way through buckles, ties, and buttons.<br /><br />
You kept to yourself through it, not unlike that last night in Caylus, dark thoughts still swirling in your mind like blood-red wine endlessly turning in a glass.<br /><br />
Once you found yourself in the nude, they wrapped a linen towel around you for you to pat yourself dry with.<br />
But instead of stepping away as soon as the sheer fabric was around your shoulders, Peyrolles held onto it a moment longer, making sure you were properly enclosed in linen, warm from staying folded near the fireplace all day.<br />
They were staring at you, but they did not hold your gaze, their eyes roaming the length of your face instead. You realized how close they were then and the sudden intimacy of the moment made you hold your breath.<br /><br />
“Talk to me,” Peyrolles muttered and you felt the warmth of their breath on your lips.<br /><br />
They did not say ‘please’, or ‘monseigneur’, you noticed. If you did not know any better, you would believe they were giving you an order.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">(link: "A shiver ran down your spine and you leaned in despite yourself.")[
(set: $ptension to it + 1)
(go-to: "Leaning in")
]</div>
<div class="choice">Unease made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. [[You took a step back.->Taking a step back]]</div>
]
(else:)[
You pulled fresh clothes out of your armoire, hanging them on the wooden screen before undressing yourself. The process was tedious, the damp fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. But soon enough you were able to pat yourself dry with a linen towel. It was a relief to feel warm and dry clothes on your skin again.<br />
As you adjusted your new outfit in front of the large mirror above the hearth, your hands froze and you stared at your reflection.<br /><br />
You recognized those eyes, this expression. You had a glimpse already, back in Caylus.<br /><br />
<div class="choice">[[Your old demon was lurking closer to the surface now and you knew what decision you would need to reach.->Interlude]]</div>
]}
You watched him walk naked across the room, as confident as if he was in his own home, and steal one of your dressing gowns. You propped yourself on your elbow.
“Please, my home is your home,” you said, a sarcastic edge in your tone.
“Why thank you,” he replied, smirking back at you as he wrapped himself in the robe.
It was hardly decent covering. The silk was slipping from his shoulders, leaving his fair skin exposed. The short black hair he sported under his brown powdered wig was ruffled by your intercourse and, as he stepped toward your spinet and sat on the bench, all carelessly disheveled, it was hard to believe he was anything but an ordinary man, let alone royalty.
You kept watching him as his fingers started to lazily scour the keys of the instrument. When the notes turned into a melody you were not familiar with, you stepped out of bed and found a dressing gown of your own. Approaching Chartres, you gently touched his shoulder to warn him of your presence without startling him. You let your fingers trail along the line of his shoulders while you stood behind him. His skin was still hot and a little tacky with dried sweat. You settled there, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and listening to the tune he was playing. He glanced at you, smiling with a rare softness, and let his back rest against your stomach.
“What is this piece?” You asked once the music slowed to a stop.
“Part of the new opera I am composing,” he replied with a proud grin. “How do you like it?”
You blinked, a little surprised. You knew he had taken an interest in composing for a while now, but you were always astonished by the amount of dedication he put into it. Maybe you should be more careful not to fall for his indolent front.
“You are getting better,” you answered with a knowing smirk.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “That hardly answers the question, but thank you. I will take what little compliment I can get from you.”
You chuckled and bent down to deposit a kiss on the side of his neck. A satisfied hum made his throat vibrate under your lips.
“Would you care to hear another piece?” He proposed.
“Usually people do the serenading //before// sex, not after,” you pointed out.
He grinned, glancing up at you. “How do you know the sex was not the serenading and the end goal, you listening to my work?”
Your scoff was followed by a short laugh.
{<div class="choice">[[“Alright, that is enough mischief out of you. Do you really have nothing else to do today?”->Chase him away]] You chastised him, eager to get your home to yourself again.</div>
<div class="choice">(link: "“Consider me persuaded,”")[
(set: $orleansfriendship to it + 1)
(go-to: "Stay a little longer")
] you answered with a lopsided smile.<br />
If it would make him stay a little longer…</div>}
Chartres gasped at you in pretend offense. “You would throw me out? Me? A Duc of the Orléans family?”
“Since when do you linger after getting your way?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Well… Maybe I was not done getting my way,” the Duc retorted with an impish smile.
“You most definitely are,” you stated firmly, patting his shoulder.
You left his side to collect his clothes, thrown about the room.
“Come on, get dressed before a search party stumbles in here while you are in the nude.”
Chartres sighed dramatically but stood from the bench nonetheless. “Alright, I will get out of your hair.”
(display: "After sex 2")
Once again, he let slip that soft smile and started playing a gentle tune. It was slow and melancholic, leaving you in a strange mood, both warm and aching.
You moved your hands, caressing down his chest as his fingers ran across the keys, enjoying both the physical intimacy and the quiet companionship.
You stayed like this for a while longer, maybe more than was reasonable, but you were starting to dread finding yourself alone again. Eventually, Chartres was the one to disentangle himself from your embrace.
“As lovely and decadent playing music naked with you is, I need to go before someone sends a search party after me,” he sighed as he stood up.
“We could send word to Saint Cloud and you could stay the night,” you replied, your arms still hanging on his shoulders.
Chartres raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully at you. “Clingy, Gonzague? That is so unlike you. What has gotten into you?”
You could not answer that. Instead, you held his gaze. Your expression made him lose his perpetual smirk. He brought a hand to your jaw, caressing down and tilting your chin to catch your lips with his. The kiss felt nearly as tender as it was sensual.
When you parted for breath, he rested his forehead against yours.
“We will do this again soon, I promise.”
“Alright,” you complied reluctantly.
(display: "After sex 2")You helped him dress and saw him to your door, making sure a carriage was ready to drive him home safely. Once you said your goodbyes, you returned to your apartments to properly dress for the rest of the evening.
Darkness had truly conquered your bedroom this time and with it, your tormented thoughts came back. You lit a few candles before pulling fresh clothes out of your armoire. Taking a cloth soaked with clean water, you washed the remnants of your afternoon off of your body before putting your new outfit on.
Approaching the mirror hanging above the fireplace, you started the final adjustments when your hands froze.
Staring at your reflection, you recognized those eyes, that expression. You already had a glimpse of them back in Caylus.
<div class="choice">[[Your old demon was lurking closer to the surface now, and you knew what decision you would have to reach.->Interlude]]</div>{(set: $chapter to "Interlude")}
<div class="chapterlink"><span class="chaptertitle">(link-reveal: "INTERLUDE")[(show: ?next)]</span>
//Where fate is sealed//</div>
|next)[(t8n: "fade")+(t8n-time: 3s)[Your candlelit figure seemed ghostly, a corpse emerging from the black pond of your mirror, in the thick of this dreadful night. It would be what you would become if you let the situation escape your control. If you could not pay your blackmailer, the truth about you would come out, and the gibbet would await you. It was a matter of life or death, really. And you always chose life.
You had spent the night twisting and turning, searching for an alternative. But all of them would take months or years to come to fruition and you did not have that kind of time. So, in the end, no matter how you felt about Nevers, it was //you// or //him//.
{(if: $neversromance > 0)[
But oh, how strongly you felt about him. Almost enough that your heart was ready to make his case against yours. It was agonizing. You would kill anyone but him if that would help in any way. But it would not. Not while you had not figured out your blackmailer’s identity, and it might be too late when you would. If you would.<br />
You were left with no other choice, regardless of the amount of pain it caused you to admit it.
]
(else-if: $neversfriendship > 1)[
But you did feel strongly about him. You could not say anyone had been kinder to you than he had been. If you could pluck another life than his to solve your problems, you would. But you could not. Not while you still needed to figure out your blackmailer’s identity, and it might be too late when you would. If you would.<br />
Regardless of how much it hurt to admit it, you were left with no other choice.
]
(else:)[
And you were definitely not going to choose him. The man may have been likable, and he may have shown you more kindness than anyone else in this world, but you would always choose yourself in the end.<br />
There was no other option.
]}
“Nevers will die,” you said out loud and the looking glass took your words, cementing your promise.
<div class="choice">[[When you turned away from the mirror, the weight that had been looming over your shoulders lifted slightly.->Chapter 2]]</div>]]
Peyrolles inhaled deeply as their fingers relaxed around the linen, letting go of the towel — of you —, but it was the only sign of emotion that made it through their stoic facade. They turned away from you, folding the clothes that had suffered from the rain into a neat pile while you dried yourself.
You cleared your throat, hoping to dispel the awkward moment.
{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
“Philippe de Nevers and Aurore de Caylus are married,” you announced finally. “And they have a daughter.”<br /><br />
Peyrolles interrupted their meticulous work and turned their head sharply to hold your gaze. You only glanced at them before returning to patting yourself with the linen, but you still noticed their expression. They were frowning at you and the steel of their eyes was warmer than usual. Was it due to worry? For you or your interconnected future?<br /><br />
“What would you have me do?” Peyrolles asked after a tense silence.<br /><br />
You looked at them again and their features were now set into firm resolve.<br /><br />
“I wish I knew,”
]
(else:)[
“I really do not know what you want me to say,” you finally replied with a weary sigh.<br /><br />
You only glanced at them, but you noticed their expression nonetheless. They were frowning deeply and the steel of their eyes seemed warmer, somehow. Was it due to worry? For you or your interconnected future?<br /><br />
“You always have a plan, monseigneur. Surely you have one…?”<br /><br />
You looked at them again. The concern was still there.<br /><br />
“I wish I did,”
]} you muttered as Peyrolles approached you with a clean chemise.
“You will figure something out, monseigneur,” they affirmed as they helped you put the shirt on.
Were they actually trying to comfort you? Or maybe they were convincing themself, for your fall would surely bring them down with you.
The quiet returned as they finished helping you dress. You felt somewhat better now that you could feel dry, clean fabric on your skin again. Peyrolles took your old outfit and exited the room while you turned toward the mirror above the hearth to do some final adjustments. Your hands froze as you stared at your reflection.
You recognized those eyes, that expression. You had a glimpse of it back in Caylus.
<div class="choice">[[Your old demon was lurking, closer to the surface now, and you knew what decision you would have to reach.->Interlude]]</div>{(set: $chapter to "Chapter 2")}
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//Cela J - Nyehilism - Kit - Nell - Dia - Quaryelle - King - Spectralight - Ames - Jimmy - FutureGrave - Libby - S C - Nixie P. - Jenny Berthelsen - Hedgie//</div><h3>''Gonzague''</h3>The Prince de Gonzague is a {(unless: $height is "medium")[''$height'' $person](else:)[ $person of ''average height'']} with ''$skincolor'' skin and ''$hairlength $hairtexture $haircolor'' hair. (upperfirst: $they) often (print: $plural of (a: "receives", "receive")) compliments about $their ''$eyecolor'' eyes.
(upperfirst: $their) real name is ''$firstname'' and $they generally (print: $plural of (a: "prefers", "prefer")) to wear {(if: $garmentpref is "both")[both ''masculine'' and ''feminine'' garments](else:)[''$garmentpref'' garments]}.
{(if: $givingin > $resisting)[
(upperfirst: $they) (print: $plural of (a: "tends", "tend")) to ''give into'' $their worst instincts.
]
(else:)[
(upperfirst: $they) (print: $plural of (a: "tends", "tend")) to ''resist'' $their worst instincts.
]}
<h3>''Relationships''</h3><h4>''//Peyrolles//''</h4>Monsieur de Peyrolles is a minor noble at the Prince’s service. Gonzague has blackmail material that ensures their loyalty.
Despite the unsavory circumstances of their partnership, Peyrolles stays Gonzague’s only true ally. (if: $peyrollesromance > 0)[There are some feelings between them, but their nature is hard to describe.]
<h4>''//Aurore de Caylus//''</h4>Aurore is the daughter of the Marquis de Caylus and the woman Gonzague plans to marry in order to acquire his fortune.
The young lady is proud and silent, making it hard to gauge her feelings about the Prince at any given time. {(unless: $aurorefriendship < $aurorerivalry)[
As far as Gonzague can tell, she seems to tolerate $them.
]
(else:)[
Gonzague gets the feeling she does not like $them very much.
]} (if: $auroreromance > 0)[Meanwhile, $firstname tries $their best to ignore $their budding feelings for her.]
<h4>''//Philippe de Nevers//''</h4>The Duc de Nevers is one of Gonzague’s two closest friends — as far as the court can tell. The gentle giant’s fondness for the Prince is surprisingly genuine.
{(if: $neversromance is 1)[
Gonzague, on the other hand, sometimes wishes that fondness went beyond friendship.
]
(else-if: ($neversrivalry > $neversfriendship) or ($neversfriendship is 0))[
On the other hand, Gonzague is indifferent to the Duc. He is just a means to an end.
]
(else-if: $neversromance > 1)[
A fondness that seems to have romantic implications for both him and $firstname. (if: $neversromance is 3)[The Prince kissed Nevers. Maybe for the last time.]
]
(else:)[
Even more surprising is Gonzague’s affection for him.
]}
<h4>''//Philippe d'Orléans//''</h4>The Duc de Chartres is Gonzague’s other close friend, a royal connection the Prince made sure to acquire by any means possible. It turned out all it took was to be sufficiently entertaining to the King’s nephew.
Chartres is an easy friend to have, very little seem to bother him. {(if: $orleansfwb is 2)[
His relationship with Gonzague also happens to have a more carnal nature. He is always ready for a good time.
]
(else-if: $orleansfwb is 1)[
His relationship with Gonzague used to be more carnal, but both of them seem to have grown out of it.
]}Choose a slot to save.
{<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 1")[
(link:"Slot 1")[(if:(save-game:"Slot 1"))[Game saved!]] — (link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot1", "Slot 1")]
]
(else:)[
(link:"Slot 1 (empty)")[
(replace: ?savetofile1)[(link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot1", "Slot 1")]]
(if:(save-game:"Slot 1"))[Game saved!]
] — |savetofile1>[There is no save to download to your disk]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 2")[
(link:"Slot 2")[(if:(save-game:"Slot 2"))[Game saved!]] — (link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot2", "Slot 2")]
]
(else:)[
(link:"Slot 2 (empty)")[
(replace: ?savetofile2)[(link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot2", "Slot 2")]]
(if:(save-game:"Slot 2"))[Game saved!]
] — |savetofile2>[There is no save to download to your disk]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 3")[
(link:"Slot 3")[(if:(save-game:"Slot 3"))[Game saved!]] — (link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot3", "Slot 3")]
]
(else:)[
(link:"Slot 3 (empty)")[
(replace: ?savetofile3)[(link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot3", "Slot 3")]]
(if:(save-game:"Slot 3"))[Game saved!]
] — |savetofile3>[There is no save to download to your disk]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 4")[
(link:"Slot 4")[(if:(save-game:"Slot 4"))[Game saved!]] — (link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot4", "Slot 4")]
]
(else:)[
(link:"Slot 4 (empty)")[
(replace: ?savetofile4)[(link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot4", "Slot 4")]]
(if:(save-game:"Slot 4"))[Game saved!]
] — |savetofile4>[There is no save to download to your disk]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 5")[
(link:"Slot 5")[(if:(save-game:"Slot 5"))[Game saved!]] — (link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot5", "Slot 5")]
]
(else:)[
(link:"Slot 5 (empty)")[
(replace: ?savetofile5)[(link-repeat: "Save to file")[(savetofile: "Gonzagueslot5", "Slot 5")]]
(if:(save-game:"Slot 5"))[Game saved!]
] — |savetofile5>[There is no save to download to your disk]
]}</div>}Choose a save to load.
{<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 1")[
(link-repeat: "Slot 1")[(load-game:"Slot 1")]
]
(else:)[
No saved game in Slot 1
]} — {(link-repeat: "Load from file")[
(dialog: bind $confirm, "Loading a save file will override your Slot 1 save if you have one. Proceed?", "Yes", "No")
(if: $confirm is "Yes")[(readfromfile: "Slot 1", ...(a: "Slot 1", "Slot 2", "Slot 3", "Slot 4", "Slot 5"))]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 2")[
(link-repeat: "Slot 2")[(load-game:"Slot 2")]
]
(else:)[
No saved game in Slot 2
]} — {(link-repeat: "Load from file")[
(dialog: bind $confirm, "Loading a save file will override your Slot 2 save if you have one. Proceed?", "Yes", "No")
(if: $confirm is "Yes")[(readfromfile: "Slot 2", ...(a: "Slot 1", "Slot 2", "Slot 3", "Slot 4", "Slot 5"))]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 3")[
(link-repeat: "Slot 3")[(load-game:"Slot 3")]
]
(else:)[
No saved game in Slot 3
]} — {(link-repeat: "Load from file")[
(dialog: bind $confirm, "Loading a save file will override your Slot 3 save if you have one. Proceed?", "Yes", "No")
(if: $confirm is "Yes")[(readfromfile: "Slot 3", ...(a: "Slot 1", "Slot 2", "Slot 3", "Slot 4", "Slot 5"))]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 4")[
(link-repeat: "Slot 4")[(load-game:"Slot 4")]
]
(else:)[
No saved game in Slot 4
]} — {(link-repeat: "Load from file")[
(dialog: bind $confirm, "Loading a save file will override your Slot 4 save if you have one. Proceed?", "Yes", "No")
(if: $confirm is "Yes")[(readfromfile: "Slot 4", ...(a: "Slot 1", "Slot 2", "Slot 3", "Slot 4", "Slot 5"))]
]}</div>
<div class="choice">{(if: (savedgames:) contains "Slot 5")[
(link-repeat: "Slot 5")[(load-game:"Slot 5")]
]
(else:)[
No saved game in Slot 5
]} — {(link-repeat: "Load from file")[
(dialog: bind $confirm, "Loading a save file will override your Slot 5 save if you have one. Proceed?", "Yes", "No")
(if: $confirm is "Yes")[(readfromfile: "Slot 5", ...(a: "Slot 1", "Slot 2", "Slot 3", "Slot 4", "Slot 5"))]
]}</div>}{<h4>Choose a font:</h4>
<div class="choice"><span id="cormorant">(link-repeat: "Cormorant")[<script>$('tw-story, tw-passage').removeClass('opensans');</script>]</span></div>
<div class="choice"><span id="opensans">(link-repeat: "Open Sans")[<script>$('tw-story, tw-passage').addClass('opensans');</script>]</span></div><br />
<h4>Choose a theme:</h4>
<div class="choice"><a id="darkTheme" title="Dark theme" onclick="window.darkTheme();" >Dark theme</a></div>
<div class="choice"><a id="lightTheme" title="Light theme" onclick="window.lightTheme();" >Light theme</a></div><br />
(link-replace: "SEE CONTENT WARNINGS")[<h4>Content warnings</h4>
(display: "CONTENT WARNINGS")]<br /><br />
<h4>Gameplay</h4>
{(if: $heart is "Yes")[
Romance. indicators are ''ON''.<br />
(link-append: "Turn romance indicators OFF")[
(set: $heart to "No")
√
]
]
(else-if: $heart is "No")[
Romance indicators are ''OFF''.<br />
(link-append: "Turn romance indicators ON")[
(set: $heart to "Yes")
√
]
]}<br /><br />
(if: (history:) contains "Best friend and worst enemy")[
(link-replace: "SET CUSTOM PRONOUNS")[<h4>Set custom pronouns:</h4>
//Type in the pronoun you want to use instead of the given examples — ''in lower case only''.//<br /><br />
''he / she / they''
<div class="inputbox">(input-box:2bind $they,"X",1,"$they")</div><br />
''him / her / them''
<div class="inputbox">(input-box:2bind $them,"X",1,"$them")</div><br />
''his / her / their''
<div class="inputbox">(input-box:2bind $their,"X",1,"$their")</div><br />
''his / hers / theirs''
<div class="inputbox">(input-box:2bind $theirs,"X",1,"$theirs")</div><br />
''himself / herself / themself''
<div class="inputbox">(input-box:2bind $themself,"X",1,"$themself")</div><br />
//Does this pronoun use singular or plural verbs?//
<div class="choice">(live: 100ms)[(if: $plural is 1)[• ]](link-repeat: "Singular")[(set: $plural to 1)]</div>
<div class="choice">(live: 100ms)[(if: $plural is 2)[• ]](link-repeat: "Plural")[(set: $plural to 2)]</div><br />
<div class="choice"><a href="#">CONFIRM</a></div>]
]}
{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
“Philippe de Nevers and Aurore de Caylus are married,” you admitted. “They have a daughter.”<br /><br />
The revelation made their cool gray eyes snap up from your lips to your own gaze. Peyrolles frowned and there was the smallest hint of warmth in those steely eyes. Was it due to worry? For you or for your interconnected future?<br />
The expression did not last, soon replaced by firm resolve.<br /><br />
“What would you have me do?” They asked.
]
(else:)[
“What would you have me say?” You sighed, your body becoming heavier in its weariness.<br /><br />
Peyrolles frowned deeply, their cool gray eyes finding yours. There was an unusual warmth in the ordinarily steely color. Was it due to worry? For you or your interconnected future?<br /><br />
“Tell me you have a plan, tell me you aren’t giving up,” they whispered, their expression quickly replaced by firm resolve.
]}
Their lips almost brushed yours when they spoke and you wondered when they got this close. {(if: $height is "tall")[
When did you tilt your head, bending down toward them and angling yourself perfectly to fit their profile?
]
(else-if: $height is "medium")[
When did you tilt your head so that you were angled perfectly to fit their profile?
]
(else:)[
When did you tilt your head, back and to the side, the perfect angle to fit their profile?
]}
{(if: $letter is "sealed")[
“I wish I knew,”
]
(else:)[
“I wish I could,”
]} you murmured, the soft sound a poor reflection of your hammering pulse.
You did not understand what was happening. You were so convinced that Peyrolles hated you that you never considered that your attraction to them could be mutual. Was it? You could not think straight, your mind a blur as you both breathed the same air for what felt like an eternity.
Eventually, Peyrolles pulled away, so slowly that you barely noticed it at first. But their brow was pinched as if they were in mild pain. You heard them swallow and they stepped away.
The force of your disappointment made you waver and you nearly lost your balance.
“I am confident you will figure something out, monseigneur,” They uttered, their voice clipped.
Ah. ‘Monseigneur’ was back.
“If you’ll excuse me…” They mumbled, walking past you and out of your bedroom in a few wide steps.
You were alone in the darkness of your apartments and it took you a few minutes to quiet your racing heart. Still naked under the linen towel, you approached the mirror above the hearth. The image that stared back at you kept you nailed in place.
You recognized those eyes, that expression. You had a glimpse of them back in Caylus. Your old demon was closer to the surface still and maybe Peyrolles was right.
<div class="choice">[[You knew what decision you needed to reach.->Interlude]]</div>