Chapter 12 - Lavender or Lysander

Madeleine was whispering something in my ear, in a language I didn't understand.

Quinn had draped his cloak over me, providing some warmth for my shivering body.

Finally, my breathing slowed down somewhat.

"I- I'm sorry."

Madeleine just tightened her embrace.

"Don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry about, I promise."

Once again, a thousand thoughts rushed through my head, but Madeleine's sweet smell calmed me down.

She slowly let go of me, before both she and Quinn helped me back to my feet.

"I... probably look like a mess now." I chuckled dryly.

"Yeah. You do.", Quinn said, as he adjusted his cloak on me.

"Do you... want to talk about it?", Madeleine asked, tentatively.

"Not right now. Maybe later. I just- I think I should go home.", I sighed, rubbing at my face.

"I'll take you back, but you have to talk to your parents." Quinn looked at me, a concerned wrinkle on his forehead.

"Now?!"

"...Tomorrow."

I sighed. "Fine. Let's just... not talk about this for a bit."

He groaned, before holding his arm out, which I gladly hooked my own into.

"Antoinette, please do write me soon. I want to be there if you're experiencing hardship." Madeleine raised her hand to her chest.

"I will. I promise." God. As if having a mental fit wasn't enough, now I was blushing again over the simplest sentences from Madeleine.

"Will you please tell her parents that we left?" Quinn turned to Madeleine.

"Of course. You two have a safe trip home." Madeleine smiled at us, as we made our way off the palace grounds.

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It was early morning when I abruptly woke up.

The sun had barely peeked over the mountains when I snuck to the salon, settling down in front of an extinguished fireplace.

My father's coat lay discarded on the floor. He had probably had one too many glasses of wine yesterday.

I fiddled with the hem of my nightgown as I heard footsteps approach.

"Awake already?" My mother stood there, beautiful as ever. Now that I looked closely, her belly was distinctly larger than usual.

"Mhm. I didn't sleep very well." I settled back into the couch cushions as my mother sat next to me.

"... Do you... want to discuss yesterday?" She turned toward me.

".... I.... suppose."

"....Is it the child?"

I hated this.

"Yes."

"And why?"

"Because- if it is a man, what will I do?", I turned toward her. "He will automatically become the heir, and then all my efforts of being a worthy duchess will be for naught!"

My mother just raised a brow. "Who said I'd make them the heir?"

I was so baffled that I just shut up.

"It doesn't matter what gender this child is because, in the end, you are the most qualified of taking over when I and your father are no longer in this world. And besides, we told you from a young age that the only way of inheriting the estate is if you are an adult, and worthy of the title of duke." My mother shook her head.

"I- I suppose," I mumbled.

"Listen Antoine, dearest. This world was not made for women. The only way we can take control is by being smarter, and stronger than the men around us. This house is an exception. Your father is an exception, but only because he himself has been treated as if he was weak. Never, and I mean never, assume that I would take an opportunity like this away from you, just because you happen to be born a woman. Please." She reached out to me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"But- what am I supposed to do?!" I felt panic creep into my voice.

"Keep going on. You are on the path to becoming a great leader, and I fully believe that you can change things. So fight."

I swallowed. My mother was right.
"So, no matter what, if I am more qualified of becoming duchess, the child will not inherit the title?"

"No. I would however like you two to work together in the future. Understood?"

I nodded quietly.

"Did... you decide on a name?"

"Lavender or Lysander. Beautiful names for a beautiful yet-to-be child." She smirked at me and put a hand on her stomach.

I got up, adjusting my nightgown.

"What will you do now?" My mother looked at me, an eyebrow raised.

"Write a letter to Madeleine."

"I like that girl. She seems to be good for you." She grinned at me, with some hidden intent I couldn't fully decipher.

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