Her Rightful Place

74: The Proposal

"It's all right, Mireille. She's gone. You are safe, safer than ever before," Christelle tries to soothe Mireille, who is still sobbing into Clothilde's shoulder, while also trying not to get any of Queen Bêtel's blood on Mireille's dress; her own is irreparably soiled with blood.

"Agnes... She...trying to protect...Queen Bêtel is dead?" Mireille chokes out, the most coherent thing she has said since Agnes's appearance.

"Aye, Your Highness. Christelle and I slew her, at your father's command," Monique replies proudly. "She will never harm anyone again."

"Queen Bêtel is dead."

"Yes, Mireille. You are safe," Christelle repeats. I haven't seen her like that since right after Agnes's death. How far has this set her back in her recovery? she wonders.

"Let her recover at her own pace," Clothilde chides, even as Mireille pulls herself off of Clothilde and tries to compose herself. Clothilde immediately helps Mireille slowly get to her feet and then begins straightening the Princess's hair and gown, while Christelle and Monique maintain a safe distance, blood still dripping from their skirts.

"Then Xavier..."

"King Christophe has declared him King of Mordalce," Monique supplies.

"But it is not official, not yet. Of course there must be a coronation, but then there is still the matter of Queen Bêtel's decree...that he cannot take the throne...until he has married," Christelle adds, slowing down when she realizes the effect this information might have on her friend.

"I must go to him," Mireille says. Her eyes are frantic.

"Mireille, you are not yourself. This has been a very stressful, traumatic day for you. Do not do anything hastily—" Monique protests.

"Where did he go? I assume he is with my father—"

"Monique, you know our orders," Christelle chastises. "As soon as the Princess has recovered—"

"Does she seem genuinely recovered to you?" Monique retorts. She will marry him, and I...will be her bodyguard. Forever.

"Christelle," Jerôme interrupts as he swiftly approaches them. "Finally, a chance to see you."

"Is this really the best time—" Christelle begins.

"King Christophe and Xavier sent me to check on all of you, and perhaps escort you to the Hall of Private Audience in which they are meeting with the rest of Xavier's Royal Advisers and King Christophe's Royal Ministers. I was only too willing to come, since I have not had a chance to speak with you since the Khandazarians—"

"What of my mother?" Mireille inquires with acute concern.

"Resting with her ladies, Your Highness. Tonight's events rendered her perhaps even more out of sorts than you have been."

"I have no doubt."

"But Christelle... Are you all right?"

"I will be better after a bath and a good night's rest, but I am well, thank you. And you?"

"I feel as though my soul is on fire. I know this is not how either of us might have planned it, but I cannot restrain myself. I have not yet found a ring worthy of you—I intended to wait until after the Royal Wedding we have been trying to facilitate occurred—but Christelle..." He sinks to one knee before her, looking at her as though she is the most beautiful, precious thing he has ever seen. "Will you do me the indescribable honor of becoming my wife?"

"You will have me...even after—"

"You had already won my heart before your blade shed the blood of the Queen, but I confess that your actions tonight have further strengthened my conviction that you, and no other, must be the woman I marry."