The Throne of Broken Hearts

CHAPTER EIGHT

Phillip

I had spent weeks memorizing her from a distance.

I saw her first at the wedding cathedral, looking like a pale, silent porcelain doll that had been practically swallowed by the heavy ceremonial silks my cousin and the court had wrapped her in. I had watched her from the balcony of the court, noting the rigid way she held her chin whenever the women of the court gossiped too loudly. She was my cousin's newest prize, a beautiful political shield for a man who deserved neither the thrill of this beauty nor that of politics.

But seeing her from a distance didn’t prepare me for the total chaos of her crashing directly into me.

Crack. Our heads collided with a brutal, solid thud. She hissed, as she bounced off my chest, immediately crouching down toward the stone floor, her hands flying to her head as she winced in pain.

"Mon Dieu," the exclamation slipped out of me under my breath, as I instinctively took a half-step back, watching her force herself back up to her feet ungracefully. Her face was instantly flushing a bright, furious pink, her eyes throwing sparks at me as she opened her mouth, clearly ready to tear me to pieces for walking like a blind man, when we both were clearly to blame.

But the words died right on her tongue.

She just stared, her face going totally taut with confusion, probably at the new face and the uncanny resemblance with her husband, and honestly? I was doing the exact same thing. Staring.

Up close, she wasn't a porcelain doll at all. She was entirely and totally real. A few dark curls had broken free from her hairpins, framing her face in this beautifully messy way that unsettled something dangerous within me,and she smelled like sweet apricots and fresh lavender.

I sucked in a slow harsh breath, but alas, my lungs had completely abandoned me and for a few more seconds, I totally forgot how to breathe, let alone remember how to fake a polite smile. I just stood there, totally thrown off balance by how striking she was.

Instantly, a bitter, vicious thought flashed through my mind. I thought of Geneviève, the cold, depressing woman my family had forced me to marry last year for the sake of the dukedom and a few border estates in Burgundy. Geneviève didn't have a single spark of life in her. She was a dreary ghost in heavily adorned silk. But this woman?Henri's wife was vibrant, furious, and absolutely breathtaking.

Henri had this in his bed and the i***t was spending his nights at court? It was a joke. He was the joke. A dangerous, competitive rush of adrenaline surged through my chest. Recovering my senses before the silence got too awkward, I took her hand. I kept a respectful distance, but I didn't do the fake, stiff "kiss the air above her knuckles" routine either. I brought her hand up and pressed my lips directly against her bare skin, letting the kiss linger there just a second too long.

“Good day, my lady,” I said, my voice smooth and easy as I slowly let her hand drop, looking down at her with a smile reserved for the courtiers of Versailles. “I am Phillip Montreval, of the house of Montreval," I continued, my tone dripping with effortless confidence. "I assume my cousin has told you about me?”

I already knew the answer. Henri hid things he was afraid of. And looking at the beautiful, completely baffled face of my cousin's new wife, I realized I was about to become his favorite nightmare.

“ Oh, good day monsieur Phillip, don't mind my face. I was just surprised to see you around this area, Henri has said so much about you” she spoke creating distance between us. She had lied for her arranged husband. Interesting. I ignored her attempt at distancing and took more deliberate steps towards her.

“ Then I must thank my cousin when I see him next, you know we don't exactly see eye to eye on certain matters, so him talking to you about me brings surprises. I hope they were good things?” I asked with a laugh, to ease her embarrassment and curtness. I fell into step beside her as she tried to brush past me towards the main hall.

We walked together towards the main hall. I turned to see her fidgeting with her fingers. I grinned, leading her towards the benches in the garden. “ So how are you coping with your husband? Trust me, I know Henri can be quite a hassle” I asked, putting a bunch of poppies on her laps.

“ We are doing absolutely fine, monsieur. Thank you”. She said throwing the flowers off her gown with a hint of disdain and cleaning her hands afterwards.

“You seem a little distracted today, Is there anything heavy on your mind that you want to vent about my lady?” I asked probingly. I had met her today and I was determined to get something against Henri.

“ Monsieur Phillip, is there something you want from me? Please be straightforward and I'll let you know if I can help” she asked, annoyance flickering through her beautiful features.

“Ahh, there is nothing wrong with asking how you are, and how you are coping with your husband”. I reduced my voice to a whisper. “ There has been news of the Count taking late night trips to the north wing countless times even after his wedding, and as a service to the dukedom and to the pretty lady before me, I went on a series of investigations, and guess what my lady?” I turned to her to observe acute anticipation spread across her features. Good!

Eloise

I could feel the anticipation that spread across my face at his words and I reigned it in. Why would I care about the count and his affairs? “ I don't need to guess Monsieur, it's none of my business”. I stood up and gave a slight bow walking away from him. I had promised myself not to care about the affairs of the Count and his dukedom. I walked towards our chambers as I needed a bath after my visit to Father.

I lay on the bed, my mind drifting to places I'd rather it did not go. I tossed and turned around the bed while I made a discovery. I needed a companion and obviously Henri was not going to be an option. My mind drifted to Andreá, his sweet smile and his ever loving grey eyes. He would never have left me alone.

I tried to get the topic out of my head before I went out of it. Putting on a visiting dress, I ordered the carriage for a ride to the orphanage. My first official appearance on the outside and an escape from the gnawing reality of pain on the inside.

I was welcomed with honor and was given a tour while the women gossiped, my name moving from lips to lips. I sighed. I knew that by the end of the month the whole dukedom if not the whole kingdom would hear of the ‘kind Countess’.