Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Duchess Laure was taking her tea on the balcony of her sitting room, overlooking the vast expanse of the city, when she saw the town erupt with energy.
From atop the hill where her palace was situated, she could see the markings of a large troop, a very large troop, coming through the city and toward her palace.
Below, she heard the clangs of swords, which often rang out in the morning as her daughter-in-law, Alex, held her swordsmanship class outside in the warm sun.
Her husband, Guillaume, the Duke of Chevalerie, was in his study with their youngest son, Philippe, and Cardinal Mazarin. They were going over territory maps and local disputes.
“Guillaume, Cardinal,” she called into the room. “Come see this.”
Several days ago, a cryptic message had arrived from Michel’s own hand. He would be home soon. He would be traveling with some very important people. He requested the audience of the Cardinal. He did not give any more details, other than that he would explain everything in person and not to worry.
But Laure was a mother. Of course, she worried.
Guillaume came to stand by her side. The Cardinal and Philippe followed.
“That is more than we expected,” snorted Philippe upon seeing the trail of people, carts, and horses.
“Michel said nothing of all this,” said Guillaume.
“Are they aggressive?” asked the Cardinal.
“Don’t worry,” said Guillaume. “You are protected in my walls, Cardinal. Remain in the study until we determine the situation.” Guillaume turned, Laure presumed, to go rally the guards.
“I’m going down with Alex,” Philippe said tersely, his pace hastening as he went to his wife.
Laure hustled herself. Though she didn’t want to assume the worst, Laure would need to organize the inside of the house.
Down the back stairs, around the kitchen, with determined and practiced calmness, she found her head housekeeper.
She caught her off to the side. “There is a large troupe approaching. We haven’t determined their intent, but please alert the staff if we must lockdown. ”
“Yes, madame,” Cosette said, and she was off.
Laure went down into the stables to notify the workers. Then she went to the front.
Guillaume had gathered the guards, and they stood at the ready behind him. Philippe stood beside him.
Laure remained behind the gates. She did not want to be of concern to her husband if things became suddenly dangerous.
She quickly saw, however, that it was indeed Michel at the front of the large group, and she felt relieved at seeing him safe.
He looked…well, how did he look? Terrible, haggard, his hair grown out and messy.
He looked handsome as he always did, but she could tell her son had been through trying days.
Then, as she focused on more than just her son, she realized these were people from far away. Imperial, majestic.
“All is well!” Michel called out.
Guillaume, taking the cue from Michel, called the guards to relax their stance. Laure came out from behind the gates.
Michel dismounted his horse. The imperial man joined him, and together, they approached Guillaume.
“This is my father, the Duke of Chevalerie.” Then Michel turned to his father, looking very serious. “Father, this is Borjigin Khan, the Golden Khan, of the Mongolian Chagatai Empire.” Michel nodded toward the formidable man at his side. “With your consent, he will be my father-in-law.”
That’s when Laure saw the beautiful girl on her own horse come into view.
Oh my, Laure realized. Oh my! She held her hand to her chest. Laure watched with a breath held.
Guillaume looked from the man to Michel. Michel nodded. “He speaks French.”
The man—truly golden, his hair, his skin—and his daughter matched the sunshine. They came before Guillaume. Guillaume extended his arms in the formal greeting. They gripped each other, elbows to hands.
“Forgive me for not speaking your native tongue,” Guillaume said. “It has been some time for me.” They released arms. “You have traveled far. Please be welcome at our home.”
The men nodded at each other, and both began calling out orders to their sides. Then Michel took the girl’s hand to help her down from the horse and led her to Laure.
Laure understood. It was not long ago that she teased Michel about how his life outlook and his rigidness would change once he fell in love. She would tease him more later, but now was not the time.
“Mother,” Michel said. He reached forward and hugged her.
“I’m happy to see you, Son.”
Michel pulled back. He turned to take the girl’s hand. “Mother,” he said pointedly. “This is Eve. We will be married.” He paused to put one hand on the girl’s belly. “And it will need to happen soon.”
Laure’s eyes widened, suddenly realizing her son had more challenges on this journey than he was used to.
She felt the warmth between Michel and his future bride, the rightness of their union.
Then the girl's father, Borjigin, shouted something at Michel in their native language.
Michel grimaced and pulled back. The girl looked down with a laugh.
Indeed, Laure thought, keeping her amusement to herself, Michel, her most patient, rule-abiding, stoic son, had gotten into some trouble on this adventure. Good for him.
Borjigin came forward to speak. “I thank you for welcoming us. Before we can be family, I must insist that my impulsive daughter is assigned a chaperone.”
“Father,” she said sharply. “We have just arrived. Allow us a moment to breathe.”
“No, Eve,” he said. “You are still unmarried and shall be treated as such.”
“Then mother can continue to stay with me,” she said. “Do not start making demands of our new family.”
“No,” he said. Now he spoke to Guillaume. “I have not had the enjoyment of my wife in a month because she has slept by Eve’s side.”
Guillaume smiled and nodded his head.
Laure jumped in. “I’m sure we can find her a suitable chaperone. We have a staff and any one of the girls—”
“I want her,” Borjigin said, pointing past the group of people. “I saw her with her sword as we entered.”
Laure followed his hand and saw he was pointing at Alex, Philippe’s wife. Alex was leaning against her sword as she stood next to Philippe.
“Me?” she croaked.
“Wait a second—” said Philippe.
“Please come here, my lady,” Borjigin insisted.
Alex and Philippe exchanged a glance and she came forward. She stood before Borjigin.
“You are a woman who wields a sword?”
“Yes, I am,” said Alex, straightening up at being addressed.
“You are the sister-in-law of Michel?”
She glanced at Michel. “Yes.” She nodded. “I am.”
He turned to Michel. “Would you feel safe having this woman chaperone Eve?”
Michel gave a grin. “I would indeed.”
Borjigin turned back to Alex. “Then will you do my family the favor of guarding and protecting my daughter until she is wed?”
“I would be honored to do so,” she said, bowing her head to the man and casting a smile to her new sister-in-law.
“Then you have my gratitude,” he said, giving Alex a nod.
In an instant, movement came from every direction.
There was much to do. The men would go behind closed doors to discuss legal arrangements.
The women would have all the other arrangements to make.
Laure would prepare her home. She would be planning a wedding.
Alex would chaperone Eve. They would all be a family soon.
And then she was soon to be a grandmother!
No pauses, no more pleasantries. Michel followed his father and Borjigin to the study, where the Cardinal waited.
They navigated introductions. Michel cared very little about the dealings at this point.
Now that he was home, with the three men before him, it would be out of his hands.
They would negotiate terms. Michel felt glad that he was able to bring the market home, that he could protect his family and city from an unfair tax and political unrest, though in the end, he had very little to do with it.
Despite his planning, scheming, and reputation, it was Eve who had procured the deal, Borjigin who had accepted it, and Michel’s father who would maintain it.
Michel would just inherit the benefits, like everything else.
They entered his father’s study and sat around the long wooden table where many missions had been planned.
His father sat at his seat at the head, with Borjigin in his regal deel and golden features, to the right.
Michel sat next to the Cardinal, an intense and very insistent man with a spindly mustache, dressed in fine silks.
Aware that it was to appease this man that Michel had set out with such lofty goals in the first place, Michel was just too exhausted to be proud of bringing home such a fine offer for his country.
The negotiations went on and on. Michel answered specifics. He translated a few phrases that Borjigin did not understand. The orange book, the one Eve had kept meticulously updated—minus any crass drawings—passed between them multiple times.
At the final layer of negotiations, when the sun had begun to descend, and the attendants had been in to light candles and change out refreshments, the Cardinal spoke.
“The king will find this agreeable.” The man had pleasure in his hollow features. He turned to Guillaume. “You, of course, will be the vector for France and will maintain the king’s authority and oversight.” Then he reached forward to shake Borjigin’s hand.
Finally, Michel thought, it was done.
Borjigin, however, did not take the Cardinal’s hand in agreement.
“No,” Borjigin said. “It will go through Michel.” Borjigin turned to speak to Guillaume.
“I mean no disrespect to you, but I prefer to work directly with this one.” He nodded toward Michel.
“He will be my contact. My only contact. I will deal with him directly.”
Michel’s eyes darted from the Cardinal to Borjigin. He hadn’t expected that.
The Cardinal, not used to being told no, spoke up. “Trade at this level is typically done through someone with a title, like the Duke here.”
“I do not have a problem with this,” said Guillaume. “Michel put the work into this commodity. It’s his deal.”
The Cardinal leaned back, in thought. “What of Renault? He refuses to work with Michel now. He is an important administrator on this route.”
Guillaume threw up his hand. “Let Renault twist in the wind. He abandoned Michel.” He nodded to Borjigin.
“And my future daughter-in-law. When they were in need.” Guillaume leaned forward, his elbows on the table.
“He comes to ask our forgiveness, not the other way around. Besides,” he continued, “this cashmere,” he let out a whistle, “will more than make up for what is lost through Renault and Kashgar.”
Borjigin spoke then. “Michel will be a Duke. My daughter will be the Duchess. Together, they know both ends of the agreement, both parties, and any commodities we trade. Eve will know the value of the cashmere. Michel will know how to manage the rest.” He nodded. “It will be him or no one.”
The Cardinal nodded. “Very well, if everyone is in agreement. Michel, we will rely on you.”
Michel nodded, accepting the responsibility. Proud of the trust from these men. “Of course,” he agreed, straightening his spine as he did. “I will do my best as always.”
Handshakes were exchanged, signatures made, and negotiations completed.
A quarter of an hour later, Michel walked with Borjigin back to the great hall, where the attendants would take him to his room so he could prepare for dinner.
Michel felt the silence between them, but it did not feel strained.
He decided to speak to the man while he could.
“I appreciate you putting your trust in me to run the trade.”
Borjigin nodded.
Michel continued. “I recognize that it is Eve you wish to work with, but I will be the best liaison I can be to make that happen.”
He was silent, and Michel thought that was the end of the conversation. Then Borjigin spoke. “I do want Eve involved. That was not why I said I wish to work with you, though. I believe you are a good businessman. A good leader.”
Michel blinked back surprise that he didn’t want the man to see. “I appreciate that, Khan.”
“I am glad Eve has found you,” Borjigin continued after a moment. “If I trust you with my daughter, it should be no surprise I will trust you with some cashmere.”
“Thank you, Borjigin,” he said, careful not to appear too pleased, careful to control his emotion. “I will do my best to make you proud.”
Borjigin didn’t say another word to him for the rest of the night. But he didn’t throw any more rocks either.