The letter was delivered at breakfast, a brutal blow served between bread, butter, and a wedge of cheese. Lola, Kenna, and Bash breakfasted together in Lola's suit. Lola was grateful that she had one friend at the castle that remembered her existence. She would rather watch Kenna and Bash fawn over each other over breakfast than have to spend the morning eating in silence while the nanny fed her son in the next room.

The two women felt Greer's absence clearly that morning. They had watched Greer—Lady Castleroy—leave in her carriage with her husband and stepchildren a few days before. They had not received any letters from Greer in that time. Kenna said that Greer wouldn't have time for letter writing, not on her honeymoon. At this moment Lola quickly changed the subject, uncomfortable at the thought of Greer and Lord Castleroy in bed together.

It was around this point that the letter arrived. "My family," Lola said motioning towards the letter.

"You can read it, we don't mind," Kenna spoke for her husband and herself.

While Kenna and Bash started to discuss (or rather Kenna discussed) how Francis should make better use of his brother's skills, Lola skimmed the first few lines of the letter. She froze in her seat.

"It's not like you're a constable," Kenna told her husband. "You could persuade the nobles on Francis's behalf. They won't expect you to—"

"They don't take me seriously," Bash interrupted.

"You can make them take you seriously. You're the king's brother. That counts for something." Nearby the baby, little Jean-Philip started wailing. Bash covered his ears.

"Uh, excuse me—I have some business to attend to," Lola spat out before rushing from the room.

She managed to make it to the breezeway before the tears started to overflow. Her family hated her. She could never go home again due to her disgrace, her shame. The paper bubbled with hatful words and cruel names a parent should never call their own child. She was no longer their daughter.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Lola turned around to see Kenna walking towards her. Lola quickly folded the letter and tried to hide it.

"I, uh, had to get away," she answered. "The nannies, the servants, the hangers-on who think they'll impress Francis by taking an interest in his son."

"Is that why you've been crying?" Kenna asked with concern.

Lola looked down at her feet and took a deep breath before speaking. "My family heard the Francis has claimed my son."

"And it didn't go well? But he's the king of France?"

"As far as they're concerned that just makes the disgrace even worse." Lola stepped forward and started to pace. "My name is on everyone's lips so I'm notorious." She couldn't keep the tears hidden any longer. A sob arose from her mouth. "They've disowned me. Cut me off."

"Oh Lola, I'm so sorry."

"I'll never be admitted into the house again. No one will even mention my name there. This is the last letter I'll ever get from home. And my new home is full of strangers and I'm trapped here with them. Even Francis and I are strangers these days so…stiff with each other." Sure Lola and Francis were never as close as Lola was with her other friends, but their mutual bond with their son gave them reason to talk to each other frequently. Now these talks were less frequent. Almost non-existent in the past few weeks.

Kenna tried to instill some wisdom. "This is why women like you and me need to prepare for the future. Hold on to the jewels, to any gifts of land, anything can happen. I was in a similar position, remember? I had a lot of time to think with Henry and kings are no guarantee of anything. Kings have enemies, war, rivals. And what's the first thing a rival does when he takes the throne? He kills the sons of the previous king."

"Kenna!" Lola admonished. "You're not cheering me up, you know!" The thought had never occurred to her before, but now Lola pictured someone throwing her little boy out a window. The two of them were only safe if Francis favored them. But if Francis himself were in danger, there would be no one left to protect them. Lola wanted to believe that Catherine or Mary would reach out to help with Jean-Philip, but doubt nagged at her. Mary will protect Francis and herself before she helps me and my child. Kenna tried to apologize. "No, I'm telling you this to protect you. Should Francis ever be deposed, you need to be prepared to take your child and flee. Start building a nest and ask for more expensive jewelry."

"That's the problem. God willing Francis will live a long and healthy life and I'll be dependent on him forever." Doubt nagged at her again. "I don't want jewels, I just want something of my own. Something no one can take away."

Kenna scoffed wryly. "Lola, we're women. We're not allowed to have things of our own. Legally Bash even owns my coal sticks and lip rouge. I would like to see him try to take those away."

Lola smiled half-heartedly, imagining Bash holding one of Kenna's coal sticks and rouge—things men like Bash would never understand. Then a thought hit her.

"But I don't have a husband. Or a family anymore." She had an idea. "Legally no one has a right to what is mine. So if I can get some money of my own I can keep it. And I will."

The morning became filled with determination and purpose, two feelings Lola gladly took over tears.

However the purposeful morning turned into a dreary afternoon. First, Lola was turned down by the bank. Her dowry would now go to Julian's father back in Hungary, the father of the man she did not marry, a man she had never even met. Then an hour later Kenna had pulled her aside nearly in tears with the news that Mary and Catherine were missing.

"What do you mean?" Lola asked. Kenna lowered her voice so as not to draw the attention of on-lookers.

"Their carriage was found abandoned near the woods. You can't tell anyone. We have to keep this a secret. Bash swore everyone to secrecy. Francis left to look for them, so Bash is now ruling in his place. We've told everyone that Francis is just going hunting. No one can suspect anything, it's too dangerous if the wrong people hear!"

Since this disturbing news was kept out of the public's reach, the rest of the courtiers carried on as if this were an ordinary day. There was dancing and eating, gossiping and drinking. People smiled and smiled, blissfully unaware that two queens were missing.

Lola had to think positively, so she reminded herself that perhaps Mary and Catherine went for a walk and became lost. Surely they could find their way back to the castle. This comforting lie was not very comforting for long. She had to pretend that she was not panicking inside. She had to smile politely and chat with nosy courtiers. She had to act like her biggest concern at the moment came from deciding which dress she and the other women at court would wear to celebrate little Prince Henri's birthday. After enduring such mind-numbing chatter for nearly an hour, Lola had to breathe. She sat down on one of the couches and tried to look uninviting. Of course her peace did not last for long.

"Lady Lola." A part of her groaned in annoyance. She looked up to see Lord Narcisse approaching her. "My sympathies…on the matter of your dowry." He then plopped himself down on the couch beside her completely uninvited.

"How did you know about that?" What else do you know? Do you know that Mary and Catherine are missing? I am sure this must please you immensely.

"I'm the largest depositor in that bank," Narcisse answered simply. "I dine with the bankers often, they're very good company. Fingers in every pie, full of gossip. And very eager to keep me happy." This was a subtle form of boasting in Lola's eyes. This man couldn't talk for five minutes without doing something to remind everyone of his wealth and power. He turned to her with a polite smile on his face. "There's still time, I could use my influence on your behalf."

Lola wanted to scoff in disbelief, but instead she could only ask: "In return for…?"

He smiled and answered "Tea," as if this were the simplest thing in the world. Men like Narcisse do not offer their help anyone. They expect something in return and it certainly isn't tea, Lola reminded herself.

She shook her head is disbelief. "Tea?"

"A cup or two. And the pleasure of your company." She held back a snort. "I have extended the invitation before," he reminded her.

She forced herself to smile politely. "Thank you, but I'm not sure it's a good idea."

She detected disappointment on his face. "Well…I would never want to press a lady," he said before he stood up. "But, I do hope you reconsider the invitation." He then graced her with another one of those smug smiles that he always wore before bowing and leaving.

A few minutes later Lola found Kenna in the corridor and told her the story. "He wants you to join him for tea?" Kenna asked incredulous. "Surely that can't mean tea."

"No. Perhaps he wants to pry secrets from me about Francis." Lola believed that would be the only reason a snake like Narcisse would talk to her.

Kenna grinned as she spoke of another reason: "Or he might simply want to seduce you." She then turned serious. "Either way its best to stay far away from him since last time we talked you thought he'd murdered his wives."

"I was wrong. I learned they'd died of natural causes," Lola replied.

Kenna stopped her. "Did you learn that from Narcisse?"

Lola paused, searching for an answer. "Alright, yes. But you haven't spoken to him and I have. He seems very believable. Besides if things got out of hand I could simply walk out. He wouldn't dare try to keep me there by force." I would not let him.

"I once thought I could play a powerful man and I've lived to regret it," Kenna stated sadly. It was easy for Lola to forget that the rest of court must believe that Lola and her friend were exactly alike: mistresses of kings. The term mistress was for women like Dianne, Lola thought. She thought of herself as a mistake on Francis's part.

Lola started to walk away, feeling the need to cheer Kenna up with a witty retort. "Oh by the way, there's something I haven't told you. He is the man from the journal with the butterfly birthmark."

Kenna's eyes widened. She rushed forward to learn more, gawking at the back of Lola's head. "He's the surprise lover? You didn't think to share that with me?"

Lola shrugged.

"Well this explains your change of heart. Even more reason to be cautious. If you're intrigued with him it just makes you more vulnerable."

"I'm not intrigued," Lola shot back defensively. "I have no interest in Narcisse."

Kenna didn't buy it. "You're telling me that that birthmark doesn't make you slightest bit curious?"

Lola tried to suppress the urge to smile. "No. It doesn't."

As the carriage approached Lord Narcisse's chateau, Lola pondered what she should say to him. She would be polite and courteous at first, but she would have ask him directly at some point: Why would someone like you bother to help me? I know the reason has nothing to do with tea.

He was waiting for her when she arrived. First he gave her a very brief tour of the grounds. Then he ushered her towards the gardens behind the house where they sat in awkward silence awaiting the arrival of tea. Eventually he brought up the subject of her dowry, wondering to know why she suddenly wished to take it back. She told him the truth believing he would see right through her if she lied. She was thankful for the delivery of tea by a servant that eyed her curiously. It was then that Lola noticed the guards standing behind them and another pair of guards closer to the house. She felt their eyes wonder over her as they tried to figure out the reason for her visit. Once she left she was sure they would smirk and gossip amongst each other in the servants hall that night or they would pity her, either way they would suspect that there was more to this visit than tea.

Speaking of tea, so far that and some minor chatting were the only reasons for this visit. They did not say much, but she could feel his cat-like eyes watching her every movement as she spoke or stayed silent, as she shifted nervously in her seat, and whenever she brought the cup to her lips to sip more tea.

She could not understand why he had asked her to meet at his chateau when they could have had this conversation at the castle. She supposed this meeting place was meant to unnerve her or chosen as a way of showing off his wealth and power once more in a more tangible form. He struck her as being very vain like any rich man, but she wondered if his reasons for showing off his wealth came from some form of insecurity. Lord Castleroy, Greer's new husband—how odd it felt to define Greer as a wife now—was a humble man who never felt the need to show off his wealth or overdress himself in public because he was too rich to care and too comfortable with himself to bother trying to impress people. Lord Narcisse struck her as being Castleroy's complete opposite: Narcisse always wore splendid clothing with vibrant colors, he felt the need to bring up his status in every conversation, and his movements were both those of a self-absorbed peacock when strutting around the castle, or of a watchful lion—a predator, a proud symbol of royalty. Even if he was not related to the royal family, he still carried himself with the knowledge that he was as rich—if not richer—than the Valois.

His watchful stare both unhinged and thrilled her in a way. It was nice to have a man look at her and not see her as the king's plaything or mistress. But surely he had something dangerous hidden up his sleeve. Lola had a plan already formed in her head if his mood should turn forceful: she would take the butter knife before her and brandish it at him if he threatened her. If he still proceeded towards her, she would stab him in the eye. A butter knife might not cause too much damage by itself, but attacking someone would be rather difficult if they are missing an eye. Then he'd have to explain how that happened to everyone at court.

But so far he had not made any move towards her. Her guard was still up, but she found herself becoming more relaxed as time passed. She was able to loosen her grip on cup and even started to enjoy the view of the gardens from this angle. She took one last sip before setting her cup down. "So," she started, "this is really tea."

He ran a finger over his lips, letting out a quiet, "hmmm."

"These house and gardens are my sanctuary," he explained.

"But you keep chambers at court as well."

"Yes, court is what I need sanctuary from." She nodded in agreement. He's not the only one in that respect, she thought. Two archery targets caught her eye. He noticed her interest. "Care to try your skill?" he asked.

He stood up, placed his napkin on the table, and walked over to the rack of bows, taking her silence for a curious yes.

"I've never even held a bow," Lola admitted as she followed him.

He looked at the selection of bows intently. "Let's see. You're right handed so this one should do."

"Well I might be left-handed. Some people are."

"But not you."

He handed her the bow. She looked at it with some confusion. Sure she had seen people draw and shoot arrows before and Francis always made it look so easy, but now she was not sure. "May I?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts. He held up a leather vambrace and, before she could protest, started to roll up her sleeve, exposing her forearm. He looked up at her for a moment with a twinkle in his eyes, up to no good. He then started to wrap the vambrace around her forearm.

As he started to fasten each string, he spoke: "This is the vambrace. It goes on the non-dominant arm because the stakes in this game can hurt." He said this last part with a smile as he fastened the last buckle, which pinched her skin slightly.

She then mimicked the way Francis held his bow, drawing this new bow without any difficulty. She wanted to impress him, she wanted to win, whatever that meant.

"You have good instincts." She pulled back her arm, prepared to draw, but he stopped her from stretching her arm further back. "No, no." He leaned in closer and adjusted her position. "You're too quick. The eye is more important than the hand." He helped her draw the bow again, properly this time, pulling the bow back until her thumb nearly touched the corners of her mouth. He helped lift her elbow properly and made her position her hand lower down the bow, straightening her aim. "See your target," he instructed, his voice tickling her ears. "Understand what you're aiming for, don't just physically let it fly." She quickly sneaked a glance at him when he was not looking at her. This must be his favorite way to butter women up, Lola suspected. At least here she would not have nosy courtiers glancing at her and gossiping amongst themselves. The servants and the guards could see them though. They too watched her intently.

Narcisse continued to instruct her. "Uh…Site the center. The rest of the circles are irrelevant." Lola closed one of her eyes. She had seen archers do this before they released their bow. He relaxed his grip on her and pulled away. Now free from his grasp she shot the arrow, opening both of her eyes as she did so. To her delight she hit the center of her target. She gasped in surprise, smiling. She turned to him for a moment before looking back at the target pleased with her effort.

"Congratulations. Of course the beginning is often promising," he broke into a smirk before adding, "the trick is to keep it going that way." Lola was determined to not let him brush off her victory, so she held his gaze for a moment, still celebrating her triumph. He could spout double entendres all day long if he liked, but Lola still beamed at the fact that she had hit the center of the target on her first try. But this was exactly what Narcisse had wanted.

When she returned to the castle Lola found that Catherine and Mary were still missing. The charade had gone on long enough, Lola thought. Once she found Bash she would tell him to send more men out to search for the queens—damn what other people thought. Soon it would be dark and Mary and Catherine would never be able to find their way back to the castle at night.

At this moment, however, the sun was still up, but only barely. The late afternoon was quickly turning into the brief moments of sunset. As the sun started its decent for the evening, the grand hall was basked in a glowing gold light. The musicians played a soft, sweet tune on the harp. Many young couples danced slowly together. It would have been a romantic moment if Lola were not afraid for Mary's life—and Catherine's too. She had to admit that the older woman knew how to instill the fear and wrath of God in enough nobles to keep France afloat, a skill Mary and Francis had yet to learn.

Lola caught sight of Bash talking to the Venetian envoy on the other side of the room. She strode purposefully through the crowd towards them.

"This music's charming," a voice said beside her. She turned around and saw Narcisse following her. "But," he continued, "it would be much more charming if you were dancing to it." She expected that he was a wonderful dancer but that his grip was too tight and forceful for most women.

Her face reddened, exasperated. I don't have time for this! "What do you want from me?" she blurted out with more hostility than she had expected.

He tried to act innocent. "I want to help with your dowry. I could help with some other suggestions too."

I have a suggestion for you, she thought, leave me alone!

He continued on, ignoring her frustration. "For instance this would be a beautiful night for a bath." This last word made his lips turn up in a sly, mischievous grin. You think you're so clever, don't you? You think it's so much fun to laugh at everyone.

"A bath?"

"You can see the stars from the chamber in the North Keep. It's a lovely room to bathe in. Though the window is large it's not overlooked by anybody." His lips slipped into a sneaky smile once more. "Except the pair of it opposite…though hardly anyone goes there."

Once she figured his true intentions out, she turned red. Lola wanted to shout at him and put him in his place, but there were too many people around. How dare he!

Of course there's a price. Why else would he want to help me?

Her anger turned into disappointment then outrage.

"Are you seriously, seriously suggesting that you want to watch me bathe in exchange for getting my dowry back?"

He pretended to be shocked. "That is quite a leap. I would never speak so bluntly in front of a lady. I'll simply say that midnight is a very fine time for a bath. The world's so quiet then you could believe you're the only one in it." He paused, still smiling. "I'll leave you to consider the advantages."

With that he left, leaving Lola behind to gape at him furiously.

Her first instinct was to refuse. Then she thought of how she could turn the tables on his offer. She could send one of the older courtiers in her place, let him peek at the seventy-three year old count and countess that were situated a few rooms down from her. Or she could go and instead of bathing do something mundane there instead, like read a book or some other act that would disinterest him. Then she had another idea. This one made her smile.

Around half past eleven Kenna ran into Lola's room nearly in tears with relief. "Francis found them!"

"Thank god!" Lola cried.

"Mary went straight to bed, but tomorrow we should celebrate or tell her how relieved we are. I would go now but she's with Francis."

"Let them sleep," Lola instructed. "Mary and Catherine have had a long day. They must be tired. We all are."

At this moment her laundry maid, Jacquette, entered Lola's bedchamber. "Is it time, my lady?"

"Time for what?" Kenna asked.

"A bath," Lola answered nonchalantly.

A few minutes later Lola and Jacquette walked up the stairs. Jacquette nearly skipped at the prospect of a nice, warm bath to herself. As a servant she had to share a tub with the other maids, they would take a quick soak one after the other, so by the time it was her turn the water would be murky and cold. But this bath would be just for her. Lola had told Jacquette that someone might be watching, but the young woman didn't mind, since she was too excited at the prospect of cleanliness and solitude to care.

After the two separated, Lola searched for the room that stood opposite the North Keep. Eventually she found him standing on the dark balcony, staring at the window across from them. She had him trapped, just as she had planned. Lola watched Narcisse watch Jacquette for a moment. He thought he was a David spying his lovely Bathsheba on the rooftop when he was Actaeon, a hunter about to be turned into a stag after inducing the wrath of Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt. She too was talented with a bow. Lola remembered that the Romans called Artemis Diana, which instantly made her think of Bash's mother Diane de Portieres. Dianne was an attractive and intelligent woman and Catherine was clever and sneaky. Tonight Lola followed their lead. The hunt was glorious.

Finally she spoke. "You're right." The sound of her voice made him jump. He turned around, his mouth rounded with surprise. "It is a beautiful night for a bath."

Instead of scowling at the prospect of being bested by a woman like Lola expected, Narcisse broke into a wide grin.

Lola explained her trick. "So I offered the use of the tub and five gold pieces to the servant who does my laundry." Narcisse looked to the woman bathing noticing that this was a different woman before turning back to Lola.

To her surprise he continued to smile and chuckle.

"I warned her that someone might look. She said that for five gold pieces the entire castle could watch."

"Well played."

She chuckled, smiling at her success.

"And I should tell you that I've already stopped the transfer of your dowry to Hungary," Narcisse admitted. "It's yours."

Now it was Lola's turn to open her mouth in surprise and smile gratefully.

"And I would be honored to be of any further service in the future," he continued, bowing courteously. "And I want you to know that I do understand."

"Understand?"

"Why you wanted your dowry back. With it you can stay or go as you wish, it means you haven't surrendered to your life at court. You can still make your own decisions." Without skipping a beat he spoke these next few sentences with his eyes shinning, "Perhaps find love again. Get married. I have the same wish."

Lola ignored this last part. "Most people seem to think that women shouldn't have such freedom."

"Ah, but you clearly haven't listened to those people." And I never will. "For a woman impatient with court ways you're becoming quite an intriguing game player."

Lola stepped forward. "The beginning is often promising." She purposefully placed her hand over his, letting her touch shock him for a moment. The look on his face delighted her. "The trick is to go on that way."