A rider from de Rohan slid off his horse, exhausted and slick with sweat. He took fast strides into the King’s morning meetings. He cleared his dry throat and bowed to the King and court. “Contessa de Rohan is dead. It is suspected that her daughter, Lady Ori de Rohan, murdered her.”

A shocked silence followed.

The King, a man of only thirty-five years, wrinkled his brow. “I have met Lady Ori de Rohan many times. I find it hard to believe that she is capable of such a thing. What is the evidence against her?”

The rider took water from a servant, and he drank with deep gulps. “Lady de Rohan blockaded her room, trapping her mother and she inside. The knights attest that they heard the late Contessa screaming till the end.”

Gasps of horror filled the chamber.

The King frowned. “Bring Lady Ori de Rohan to be tried in her mother’s murder. If it’s found that she committed matricide, she shall be decapitated and her body burned.”

The rider bowed and stepped aside. He relayed the message to another rider, who took off on a fresh horse to the de Rohan estate.

The King looked at Count de Broglie. “Is Lady Ori de Rohan not to be your daughter in law?”

Count de Broglie, a chubby man with soft brown eyes, looked flabbergasted. “She is, my liege. I am…” he gestured in confusion, “I have no words.”

The King shifted in his seat, “Do you believe the lady could do such a thing?”

De Broglie sighed. “I cannot say for sure, but I am suspicious that such a thing could happen, your majesty. The de Rohan girl is mild and timid.”

The King nodded, “I have never seen a more demure and sweet natured girl.”

The court murmured in agreement. The de Rohan household had no outstanding rumors attached to it. Even the inheritance was clear: Lady Ori was set to marry, and her male cousin had been named heir.

The King glanced at de Candel and de Foix. Both men had gone pale. Candel had wet eyes and trembling lips.

“Your sister, and sister in law, has died.” The King intoned, “My condolences to you both. You may take leave to make necessary arrangements”

The two men bowed, and then left together.

Candel began to cry. He turned away, head in hands.

Foix pat his back with awkward kindness. “I am sorry, brother in law.”

Candel took out an elaborate handkerchief, patted his face, and blew his nose. “D-do you believe that little lady Ori—?”

“No,” said Foix. “I would sooner believe anything else. There is no way.”

Candel took a deep shaky in-breath and sniffled. “I agree, that child is brainless as a bird.”

Foix eyed him but said nothing.

Candel shook his head, “My older sister…she made many mistakes in her life, but she did not deserve this end.” He blew his nose again, “How will the little lady marry now? It won’t be long before people find out she’s touched in the head.”

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Foix startled, “What are you saying, brother in law? She’s a quiet, observant girl. Such shy girls are very popular brides.”

Candel scoffed, “No, that one has been an idiot from birth. Everyone will find out at the hearing. Damn it all—“ he pinched the bridge of his nose, “but at least my son Luke will inherit my sister’s title. That de Rohan line—I always said they were unwell. The whole of them only have girls.”

Foix removed his hand from his brother in law’s back and looked at him anew. Candel had always been gruff and blunt, but—perhaps grief had made him temporarily mean spirited. Foix, himself, had two girls with Candel’s younger sister.

Candel was not finished, “If it weren’t for that bastard Jonathon, elder sister would have married much better stock.”

Foix’s eyes widened and he looked around the empty hallway to make sure they were alone. “Do you think it was Jonathon? He seemed very attracted to his mother, but could he have been angry that he could not inherit the title?”

Candel began to cry again, “I told her to toss that baby into the sea, but she refused! She could have at least taken him to an abby and made him a monk. Why did she make such a foolish mistake?”

Foix felt disgusted by his brother in law’s words. He could not listen to anymore of this madness. Foix saw the image of his brother in law change before his eyes. “I shall go and visit my wife now.”

Candel nodded, the broad length of his shoulders crumpled inward.

—-

Contessa de Foix shed angry tears. “She was a terrible person, but she was still my elder sister,” she cried. “One of her enemy’s finally killed her.”

Foix held his wife close. “You always told me your family was cruel, but I finally saw it myself today. Your brother’s words shocked me.”

Contessa de Foix nodded, “I should have visited little Lady Ori more often. My god, what has she seen? Do you think an assassin could have framed her?” The idea disturbed her so that she sobbed regretful tears.

Foix shhh’d his wife lovingly, kissing the crown of her head. “I shall go and pick her up immediately. She needs to be with us and the girls, not Candel.”

His wife nodded and released him, “Go now.”

—-

Leven de Artois, the third son of the Artois family, ate lunch with his family. His father was telling the table the news from the King’s morning meeting.

His mother chuckled. “Well, that certainly is a suitable end to such a beastly woman—oh” she shot her sons a look, “That was an awful thing to say. Never speak ill of the dead like that.”

“Yes, mother.” The boys said in unison.

Count de Artois patted his mustache with a thick, cotton napkin and cackled. “I wonder which bastard ordered it. No one believes it was the daughter.

“What was her name again?” Contessa de Artois asked.

Leven looked up from his meal, “Lady Ori, mother.”

Contessa de Artois eyed her son with a knowing look. “And is she quite beautiful?”

The table erupted in soft laughter. It was well known that Leven only knew the names of beautiful women.

Leven smiled in innocence, “She is.”

His elder brother shook his head. “She isn’t your type. You like the mysterious, boisterous ones. That girl is much too quiet.”

Leven shrugged, “I simply know her name. She had her debut ball many years ago, and I have seen her from afar many times. We are acquaintances. She seems a lovely girl—always smiling, though a bit nervous.”

The middle brother cleared his throat, “Someone has died.” He reminded his family.

The table pulled faces and made shooing gestures with their hands. That boy was too serious.

The count leaned over and ruffled his middle son’s hair with affection. “Perhaps I should represent the young girl in court.”

Contessa de Artois agreed.

Leven chewed his pheasant. “If I remember correctly, she’s in her early twenty’s.”

Contessa de Artois made a face. “My goodness! Everyone talks as if she’s a child of sixteen. Yet she’s unmarried?”

The middle son sighed, defeated. “She’s engaged to Broglie’s second son, Vellim.”

The eyes of everyone at the table swiveled to the second son.

He blushed. “Vellim is a friend of mine!”

The elder brother and Leven exchanged quick glances. The second son was only interested in soft, docile women— like Lady Ori.

Contessa de Artois cackled. “It seems Lady Ori de Rohan has stolen the hearts of my unmarried sons!”

Sounds of insistent derision followed this statement. The Count and Contessa covered their faces and giggled together.

The tabled enjoyed their lunch in this way for a long while. It was very hard to keep a de Artois from a good hearty chuckle. The whole of them were decidedly unserious.

When lunch ended, Count de Artois kissed his wife’s cheek and returned to the palace. At the King’s evening meetings, he expressed his interest in becoming Lady Ori de Rohan’s representative in court.