The Wolf Esprit: Lykanos Chronicles 3
Chapter Fourteen

“Chevalier,” a voice said to pull me from my dreamless sleep.

I opened my eyes to see a shaft of sunlight beaming from the narrow window onto the suite’s polished floorboards. I stared at it for several moments, unsure of what I beheld.

“Monsieur,” the voice came again. It wasn’t a question, but a statement delivered to catch my attention.

Blinking several times to focus my clouded vision, I scanned the room to replace a face I recognized but couldn’t place. A man stood before me dressed in a pressed, burgundy suit with long tails and white breeches. He’d combed back his dark hair and tied it with a ribbon. He had a boyish face that couldn’t be more than a few years my senior, and his head gave me a slight nod.

At once, the large room and its lavish furnishings made sense to me, and I remembered where I was.

“Gion?”

“Good morning, Chevalier. It’s time to dress. His Lordship wishes you to join him for breakfast.”

“Yes.” I could only think of one answer.

I attempted to sit up, but a terrible pounding seized my head, and I let out an involuntary groan.

“Are you not well, monsieur? Shall I bring you something?”

“My head. I drank too much.”

“I’ll return in a moment,” Gion said before leaving me.

I realized my bladder would soon kill me, and I swung my legs over the edge of the bed to realize I didn’t know what to do. At camp, I would walk away to where the men had designated a communal wall section to relieve myself. But staring around the opulent tower room, I’d no idea what was right. Perhaps I should go downstairs to the forecourt? How had I returned to this room last night? When did I undress?

Gion soon returned to the room with a small tray of bread and milk.

“Where do I relieve myself?” I whispered when he drew near me.

Gion looked at the door to the dressing room.

I didn’t know why he’d want me to go there, but I rose from the bed and made my way to the door. Inside, my reflection again confronted me in the glass, and it startled me to see his tired face and disheveled auburn locks. Scanning the room, I noticed nothing but a bathtub and chairs, and a mild panic set in that I might lose control. Did he mean for me to urinate in the tub?

“Monsieur,” Gion said, and he moved past to lead me to a curtain. Behind it was a short wooden chair with a hole in the seat over a delicate white porcelain bowl. Beside the stool was a small shelf that bore a similar bowl.

When I realized he meant for me to relieve myself in either of these small bowls—inside the house—I didn’t waste time considering the peculiarity of the arrangement. Reaching to pull my cock free, Gion bowed and retreated from the room.

I did my best to keep my stream from splashing, but this was far from my finest moment of coordination.

When I’d finished, and only my headache remained, I fell back into bed, bent on chasing the relief of unconsciousness.

“Monsieur, if you please. This will help you recover,” Gion whispered. “Chevalier du Roussade?”

Again, I opened my eyes and winced at the shaft of sunlight that fell on his white breeches. I sat up again with closed eyes and took the milk he placed in my hand to drink it down all at once. It wasn’t until the cool drink hit my throat that I realized how thirsty I was. The bread was a day old, but it was still delicious, and I wished I hadn’t drunk all the milk so soon.

Gion returned to the dressing room and pulled out a chair, where he waited for me to follow.

“When you’re ready, Chevalier.”

After I sighed in resignation at the pain in my head, I rose to join him.

“Please,” he signaled to the chair when I stopped.

I saw the glint of a razor beside a small basin, and I realized he meant to shave me.

I wasn’t hairy like my father, who Mother shaved daily. And I certainly couldn’t grow a full beard like Uncle Guillaume. I only let Mother bother to shave me once a week at the most. But I recognized these people expected me to groom myself as Maximillian did, so I took the chair and allowed Gion to begin.

Once he’d lathered my face, he gave a gentle pull on my skin to soothe the blade’s passage. I couldn’t help but let my eyes close at the comforting sensation. When he finished, my sleepy exhaustion prevented the slightest self-conscious apprehension about being dressed. My mind wandered as Gion did his work, and it wasn’t until he’d finished that I realized he’d dressed me in common clothes. They weren’t as basic as the attire I’d arrived in, but they were still the clothes of a commoner.

“Am I to leave?” I asked without thinking.

“His Lordship means for you to join him in the field after breakfast, Chevalier.”

“In the field?”

“I understand he means to take you on a tour of the vineyards to acquaint you with your duties,” Gion said. “If you’re ready, I’ll take you to him and Her Ladyship now.”

With a nod, I followed the young man downstairs. Despite the dull ache in my head, I was able to focus on the task at hand.

In those moments, I realized Gion would likely be my personal servant for the foreseeable future, and I was unsure of how to proceed. We were already so intimate, another strange reality of this place, and it felt ridiculous that I would treat him in any way other than a friend. If I didn’t need to respect the Roussade’s insistence on posing as their nephew, I would ask him a hundred questions about himself. Even my cousin Claude had never seen my body as Gion had. It was only because of my certainty he felt no such attraction in return that I put the matter out of my head.

“Good morning, nephew,” Gabrielle called quietly when I entered the dining salon.

“Aunt. Uncle,” I said, forcing a grin.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel this morning,” Maximillian added. “I’m afraid we failed your parents in keeping you up so late.”

“I should’ve stopped the both of you,” Gabrielle said, keeping her voice modulated. No doubt she could sense the pain in my head and didn’t mean to add to my suffering.

“You’ll want plenty of bread and butter, and there’s ham—that’ll help,” Maximillian said, nodding to the buffet set up on a side table. “Ducasse, you’d better bring him a glass of wine.”

“Not at all,” she said, raising her voice. “Ducasse, would you bring him coffee with milk? That will hide his headache better.”

“Of course, Your Ladyship,” he answered and nodded to a footman to fetch a cup for me.

I proceeded to the buffet and made a plate of food, though I wasn’t hungry. Looking at all they’d prepared, I felt no small measure of guilt and filled the plate with a bit of everything, including quiche, cheese, fish, vegetables, and a large helping of cured ham. By the time I sat beside Maximillian and across from Gabrielle, a cup of coffee had already arrived at the table.

Though it was scalding, I’d never tasted it before, and at her beckoning, I wasted no time sipping it.

You’ll feel much better soon, she promised.

“Thank you,” I whispered in return.

“I thought I’d take you to tour the fields so you may see all here that awaits you,” Maximillian said with restrained enthusiasm. “We’ve built quite a production here. I’ll be glad to know your view of it.”

I only stared at the man, his beautiful eyes so alive and grateful to see me at his table.

Is it over? I asked with my mind. Is it done, then?

I sent the image of my family, of Thérèse, and he at once understood my question.

I staged it last night after putting you to bed, he said. I took to the night and created the scene for them to replace. They may well have already found the body without the magister’s help, considering you never came home last night. What mother could sleep without knowing the whereabouts of her child?

“Do you wish to return?” Gabrielle whispered, and I saw a glint of sadness in her eyes. “Have you changed your mind?”

I stared at her for some time without answering, considering how I might want to see Thérèse just one last time. But then I let a whimsical smile break upon my face.

“Back all the way to Paris, madame? There’s no place for me there now. I wish to be here in the quiet country with my aunt and uncle—with my second family.”