The Inherited Series Book 2: The Claimant

by Lily Burlington

  "Are you sure you are alright?" Hector asked softly. Concern was evident in the line of his mouth. "I am so sorry you had to speak to Antoine."

  "It's fine," I said, patting his hand. "He just wanted to say hi and give me more stuff." I held up the figurine for his inspection.

  Hector's brow furrowed as he took the statue, turning it over in his palm. He hummed, the muscle in his jaw jumping. I was about to ask what was wrong but we had arrived at the group of people. Hector slid the statue out of sight and into the pocket of his suit, smoothing out his features. I did more math, reciting multiples of seventeen, as I was introduced to the members of Guillaume Belmont's family: first his mother, Stephanie, and his father, Guy; then his little sister, Julie, and his girlfriend, Marie-Anne. I exchanged brief condolences with them all. The last member of the group was an old man whose eyes were glistening with tears. Hector murmured softly to him in a language I didn't understand, his large hand strong and steady on the man's shaking shoulder. They spoke quietly for a moment before Hector introduced me. The old man glanced up at me through his large dark eyes, holding my gaze fiercely, just as Antoine had earlier. The man's gaze wasn't predatory though, more searching, almost as though he could see into the very depths of my soul.

  "This is Saripho Belmont," explained Hector. "He is Guillaume's grandfather. He flew here from the Ivory Coast." So I had been wrong – he had been speaking French, just a different dialect.

  The man reached out to take my hand, his own dark leathered fingers rough, knobby and stiff as they wrapped themselves around mine. His voice was rough but strong when he spoke to me.

  I looked up at Hector, and said somewhat guiltily in English, "I don't understand."

  "He said that pain makes death easy; it is love that makes it hard," Hector translated.

  I frowned, confused. It seemed like a strange thing to say. I shook my head and started to respond, but the man squeezed my hand tighter, speaking with more urgency now. Hector listened intently before relaying the message back to me in English once again. "He says, love is what makes life worth living. Pain is what makes it easy to let go. He is sorry and wants you to know that you should do whatever it takes, to do what is best for you and Leopold, even if it is painful."

  Chapter Seven

  In Solisian law, council cannot meet at court without the presence of the king and either the prince, who is the successor to the king, or the leader of national defense. Leopold held both of these titles. Without his attendance, the regular functioning of the court could not proceed, and the country was considered to be in a state of war, apparently with itself. It was fitting then that the council met in the war room. Felip was waiting for me outside the room's surprisingly unimposing door. He had changed out of his black funeral suit into another black suit with a fresh shirt and a bold power tie, and I noticed he’d gained a few more lines beneath his eyes in the few hours we had been apart. I ducked my head slightly in greeting. It would only be the two of us from the family attending this meeting. He watched me as I came towards him, his green eyes surprisingly bright and determined. He didn't say anything and didn't have to; he just set his shoulders back and nodded once, raising one eyebrow in silent camaraderie. I smiled in response before following him through the door.

  The members of the council stood as we entered. Felip took his seat at the head of the table, this time with me at his right side. Almost deliberately slowly, the king put on his reading glasses and began to flip through the folders in front of him. The room waited silently for his address, and the verbal free-for-all that was inevitably going to ensue. I waited, happily watching him exert the bit of control he still held over them, while they squirmed and shifted in the stale parchment-scented air of the room. They deserved it after everything they had made Felip, Beatrice, Hector, and Phillipa go through over the last week. I sunk further into my crushed velvet chair. The war room was one of the many rooms in the castle that had lost its practical uses over the centuries. I'm sure that at one point in time it had been crucial to have a room designated to planning battles and the movement of troops and artillery. Now that the entire process of war had been removed from the inside of the castle, with the exceptions of signatures and aesthetic affairs, the war room was really more of a dark old map room with a heavy wooden table in its center.

  Finally, Felip cleared his throat, saying, "Let us try to keep this brief tonight, messieurs, for Mademoiselle Catherine's sake. I will entertain your more detailed questions tomorrow. Who would like to begin?"

  Councilor Beaucage was the first to speak up, his chair creaking under the pressure of holding his immense form as he leaned over the table, his eyes boring into me. "We were hoping Mademoiselle would give us an update on His Royal Highness's condition," Beaucage stated, extending thick sausage fingers in my direction.

  I understood what this request was at once. They weren't really curious as to how Leopold was doing; they already had pages and pages of information regarding his condition in front of them, all signed by his doctors. What they were really interested in was how I was doing, whether I was strong enough to be in this meeting. "The prince is doing well," I said, aware of all of the evaluating eyes that were on me. I forced my voice to be clear, my hands not to shake. "His body is continuing to heal without any further complications. He remains asleep, however."

  "Any more information on when he is expected to wake up?" Beaucage directed at Felip this time. It seemed I had passed the test and wasn't about to be thrown out of the meeting, at least not yet anyway.

  "None," Felip told him, sounding somewhat exasperated, as if the councilors should know better than to ask. "The prince will wake up when he is ready."

  "And if he does not?" asked Beaucage. I took note of the Arcadian green tie he was wearing.

  "Leopold has until his eighteenth birthday to accept or decline his role as king. As we have discussed, my son can remain in a coma for another nine months and twenty-seven days if he must." Felip spoke softly and calmly, concentrating on pouring two glasses of water from the crystal decanter before him.

  "Government cannot continue on like this for nine months, Your Majesty," appealed Governor Montcalm. "There needs to be someone who will take on the prince’s roles until he returns. You must allow your other son to return to his rightful position."

  Felip placed one of the glasses of water in front of me. "I will allow no such thing," he said. "We agreed that my family would be allowed a month before we were forced to declare anything. Hector still has three weeks before a decision must be made, and I will not force his hand before that time."

  "Who will he marry, Monseigneur? How are we to find another bride for him in less than a year?" asked Montcalm. His wiry mustache quivered as he huffed and puffed in his distress.

  "Perhaps it would then be better to give the role to Antoine Dublais. It would remove the extra burden of finding a temporary fill-in if he were to ascend the throne," suggested Beaucage.

  "This still does not solve the problem of marriage," exclaimed Montcalm.

  "Providing the meetings with France go well, Mademoiselle Sinclair could marry any of the gentlemen to make the process official and legally binding," said the ruddy-faced Governor Pommier.

  The attention of the room shifted back in my direction. I tried to keep my face even as I processed the fact that they were considering keeping me around to sell off to the highest bidder. "Catherine is capable of making her own decisions, and she will do so when the time comes," Felip told them.

  "What will she be doing in the meantime? Mademoiselle cannot stay in the hospital forever. People are beginning to ask questions." Pommeir kept his beady eyes trained on me.

  "She should be going to Arcadis as planned," Beaucage cut in. "That is the only way we will be moving forward with any of this."

  "She may be in danger though," added the very old Governor Rivet from the corner. "We still do not know for sure what caused the accident. What if Mademoiselle is the next target? She cou
ld be put at great risk if she left our protection."

  "There is no sense in being paranoid, Rivet," said Montcalm. "Mademoiselle Sinclair will be perfectly safe with Governor Richard and Antoine Dublaise."

  I thought of the necklace and statue Antoine had given me, all of the times he had tried to come between Leopold and me, about the fact that he was the one who inspected Leopold's plane before the test. There were plenty of reasons to be paranoid if you considered all of the circumstantial evidence. Whether all of this actually added up to something nefarious or not was yet to be proven.

  "We cannot send her away," insisted Governor Trembler. "How will that look to the public if their princess leaves her ailing prince? Much less to go off frolicking with the next in line to the throne. Rumors of conspiracy will spread like wild fire."

  "The trip has been planned for weeks! She must go! If we have any hope of piecing things back together when all of this is over, Mademoiselle Sinclair must go to Arcadis. She has duties there as well!" replied Beaucage, slapping his chubby hands on the table top like an upset child.

  "Perhaps Prince Hector should go with her, for propriety's sake, she should not be going alone. Or, even better, Princess Phillipa," suggested Montcalm.

  "Hector is needed here. He is doing his best to keep up with Leopold's duties until we know for certain what will happen. Phillipa is helping Beatrice make arrangements for Leopold when he returns home. Either of them could go, of course, but their skills are invaluable here at the moment," Felip said, putting an end to the tabletop crossfire. "Ultimately, the decision is up to Catherine. We will agree to support her in whatever she does."

  All of the attention fell on me again as the room pressed inward.

  I began to calculate thirty five point two percent of six hundred and seventy one.

  I sat in the center of my bed as Angelique nervously danced around me, packing my bags. She kept throwing cautious glances in my direction every few seconds. Clearly she was worried, but I appreciated that she didn't say anything. I was sure that if I had to have a conversation right now, I would choke on any words I tried to speak. Felip had said he would give me twenty-four hours before he announced my decision – twenty-four hours to change my mind, although both he and I knew that I wouldn't. I couldn't. He had pulled me aside after the council had left and, bracing his hand on my shoulder, placed a single kiss on my forehead. He knew this was it.

  Angelique had tried to convince me to stay in the castle overnight. She told me I should sleep, that she could pack up some things for me in the morning. There was no point in that, though. I wanted to do this as soon as possible. There was no point in drawing anything out since I wasn't going to sleep anyway. As I sat sorting out the issues in my head, it was comforting having her work around me, something familiar to help anchor me. I tried to force my mind blank so I didn't have to think about what I was doing, so I didn't have to justify my actions to my heart or think about how others would judge me. This was it, the choice that had to be made. Tears threatened to fall, but they had to wait. Although I would allow myself that privilege later, I needed to appear strong, like a leader, in front of others.

  When M. Lefevre and M. Arsnault arrived, M. Lefevre took my luggage from Angelique and headed down the hallway to the car that I was sure was already waiting out front. I got up from the bed and straightened the suit jacket I was still wearing from the meeting. Angelique stood facing me with her hands clamped tightly in front of her. Felip had promised he wouldn't tell anyone the news until I was already gone, so only Angelique and my guards were privy to my decision. "I wish you well, Mademoiselle," Angelique said formally. "Take care of yourself."

  Unable to stop myself, I hugged her tightly. "I'm going to miss you. Thank you so much for everything! You have no idea how big of a help you have been."

  Angelique patted my back. "I believe in you, Mademoiselle. You will do right."

  M. Arsnault cleared his throat meaningfully. I wasn't exactly tactful or regal at the moment, plus I had a plane to catch. My guard followed me closely through the halls; I don't think he was confident that I was truly alright. We met no one on the way out other than the few guards who acknowledged me in subtle recognition as we passed. With the exception of the still heightened security, there was no one walking about the castle; the usually noisy castle was practically on lockdown.

  I shivered as we slid into the cold night air. I braced myself on M. Arnault's offered arm as I fumbled down the steps. He held the car door open, and I slipped into the empty back seat. Gravel crackling under the tires sounded like shots from a gun as we rolled across the drive. As soon as the tires hit the stone street, all was silent. Like a shadow, we passed through the gates, away from the security of the castle.

  "You will have fifteen minutes in the hospital once we arrive, Mademoiselle," M. Arsnault reminded me softly from the passenger seat.

  "Thank you."

  Watching out the window as we drove, the streets were all familiar. I knew exactly where we were, the names of the buildings, and the names of the battles that had happened in the fields we passed, and I could read and understand all of the signs in the shop windows. All of the things that had seemed so scary and foreign a few months ago now just felt like home. My stomach knotted.

  It was quiet when we pulled up at the hospital. Nearly all of the photographers had gone home for the night, with only a few left who had been put on watch over the night shift. They roused as our car pulled up, lifting sleepy eyes to see whether it was worth pulling out their cameras. They started to get really excited when they saw my team of guards file out of the hospital atrium and head towards the car. I waited patiently until M. Arsnault came around and opened my door. He helped me out and then placed his hand firmly on my back as we began to move forward with the rest of the guards. Some of them stayed back with M. Lefevre and the car, holding back the photographers who fluttered around the vehicle, trying to get a glimpse of anyone else who could be inside. My hands were shaking again by the time we made it to the elevator, so I closed them into fists in an attempt to still them. There was a ping as the doors slid open to Leopold's floor. M. Arsnault's hand nudged me forward into the sterile hall. "I will wait here for you, Mademoiselle," he told me and nodded encouragingly down the corridor.

  I swallowed hard and nodded. My shoes clacked loudly on the linoleum as I rounded the nurse's station. The nurses in their purple scrubs smiled at me, nodding their heads, and the few guards stood at attention as I passed them. Finally, I reached the door to Leopold's room. A young guard with tired eyes held it open for me as I stepped over the threshold into the dark space.

  Nothing had changed since I left. I hadn't expected it to, but I was still disappointed. The dim lights from all the monitors cast an odd multicolored glow in the room, extending long and strange shadows onto the walls and floor. I sat down in the chair beside the bed and gave a shaky exhale.

  "I have to leave you for a while," I told Leopold and reached for his hand, grasping it delicately between both of my own. I was scared I would crush the bones in his hand now that they were so much closer to the surface than they had been just a few weeks ago. He didn't answer, of course, which made it that much harder for me to continue explaining myself. If he had been awake, he would have yelled, most likely in multiple languages, and he probably would have thrown something too. The first few tears began to roll down my cheeks.

  "It is for the best, I promise," I pushed on. "It is the only way we are going to get answers. Antoine and Richard are up to something. I just know they are, and this could be the only way to catch them. Don't you try to talk me out of it. You would do the same if it were me in the hospital." I reached forward, resting my hand against his stubbled jaw. "I just can't let your family suffer anymore. Hector and Rose should be allowed to stay together. Phillipa needs to stop crying. Felip shouldn't be worrying about who is going to take over for him. I'm the only person who can fix all of that. Especially now, with you injured and in a coma
." I leaned forward, resting my chin on his shoulder. He still smelled of Leopold underneath all of the antiseptics he was coated in. "You are always trying to save everyone, Leopold. I know you are, even if they don't. Let me be the one to save them this time. We are a team, you and I, and it is my turn to step up." I stood, wiping the tears from my cheeks. Leaning forward, I placed the lightest of kisses on his cracked lips. "I'll be back the second you wake up," I vowed. "You won't even know I was gone." I took a few deep breaths in the darkness of the room, steadying myself. "Je t'aime," I whispered to him and then left, pushing back into the hallway.

  "Ready?" I called to M. Arsnault who was still standing in front of the elevators. One of the guards at the side of the hall jumped slightly at the sudden noise.

  M. Arsnault cocked an eyebrow. "Of course, Mademoiselle."

  "Me too," I told him, the edges of my lips curling up. As soon as we were out of earshot, I added, "I hope you are ready for this; it's just going to be you and me for a while. Think you can handle it?"

  My guard chuckled slightly, pressing the button for the lobby. "I think I have done alright so far, Mademoiselle. Although, you do tend to keep me on my toes."

  "Well things are about to get a lot more interesting, I hope. I am going to need your help though, I need to find evidence against Antoine and Richard." The elevator doors slid open but I paused, staring straight into M. Arsnault's eyes.

  "You can have my help for whatever you wish, Mademoiselle. I would never let you face those barbarians alone," he swore valiantly.

  My smile grew. "Then let's go catch that plane. I am supposed to meet with the rogues for breakfast tomorrow, in my castle."

  Chapter Eight

  "So do you have a plan, Mademoiselle?" asked M. Arsnault. He had been quiet during the flight until now. I guess he was getting worried about what we would be doing once we landed. M. Arsnault wasn't as well connected in Arcadis as he had been in Solis. My castle didn't have the same interface or security, and he was an outsider. M. Arsnault was coming primarily for my protection since we didn't know what I was walking into, but he was also coming as my chaperone just as he had been since the first time I arrived in France. Now, however, he wasn't going to have access to all of his usual information and monitoring capabilities. Nor would he have access to the schedules of all of the castle's occupants, none of whom could be trusted.