Who: Juliette & Genevieve What: Vivi comes to retrieve Juliette Where: Shieldwyrm Hall Barracks When: Today Rating: PG Status: Complete
When Audrey had informed her that Juliette had learned the truth, and Genevieve had learned what exactly the younger Coulombe sibling had discovered, it had been a matter of hours to track the girl to where she had been staying. She had reached out in good faith the night before after discussing things in further depth with Audrey, but had heard nothing from Juliette, which had left Genevieve with little choice but to simply go down to Shieldwyrm and wait the girl out.
Shieldwyrm Hall was at least clean, which was more than Genevieve could say about about Lindwyrm. Her eldest brother was still stationed there and often complained about the filth that accumulated. When she had suggested transferring, he had balked, saying that the most good was done in the bowels of society. His vivid portrayal of guildhall life had left her with a considerable amount of worry once she had discovered where Juliette was, but upon entering, she could at least cross one thing off of her long list of things to fret over.
The helpful young woman at the desk cheerfully gave her directions to the barracks, and Genevieve thanked her. The receptionist hadn’t given her Juliette’s dorm number, but she figured she could easily find someone who could assist with that.
It wasn’t until she had reached the end of the hall the woman had pointed her down that she realized why directions had been the only thing given: it seemed that the barracks at Shieldwyrm were shared. There was only one person in the large room, and fortunately, it was the person that Genevieve had come to see.
“Good morning, Juliette.”
To say that Juliette hadn’t considered that she might eventually have to see Alys or, Faram forbid, Countess Albrecht, would be a lie. She had tried not to obsess over it, but had lived with a quiet dread of when it finally did happen. The last thing she wanted was to destroy anything else, and that was aside from the fact that her own feelings were still… well, to call them ‘extremely bruised’ would be the understatement of the year, certainly.
So she had thought of it -- but she had not imagined the impeccably coiffed and gowned Countess tstriding into the barracks as she was toweling at her hair after the shower that had followed her morning run. And because she hadn’t thought of it, she was utterly unprepared, and for a moment, she could simply open her mouth, close it, and try to will herself not to cry yet again before one of the other occupants of the room came by.
The silence stretched, and she considered, seriously, the implications of simply saying nothing at all. It wouldn’t do (not only was she too polite, but there were things to be said, in the end, even if she had tried to convince herself there weren’t). The towel was draped over her shoulders and she took a deep breath, let it out, and said, in a remarkably even voice, “Good morning, Countess.”
Genevieve’s expression remained pleasant despite the coolness of Juliette’s voice. Audrey had not been exaggerating her sister’s displeasure with the situation, then. That would make things a touch more difficult in the end, but the ire of a teenage girl was hardly anything to the various things she had had to deal with over the years. (That it hurt, quite more than she had expected, was neither here nor there.)
She considered continuing on with pleasantries, but she had never cared for them, and if the stiffness in Juliette’s posture was an indication, the usually polite girl would scarcely be able to keep up with them. Best to get straight to the point then. “Alys has informed me that you have discovered her ruse.”
Well, of course she had. Somehow, the fact that Alys had gone to the Countess for help was something she ought to have expected -- had she not, in every case of difficulty, done exactly that? Long before Juliette had been involved, in fact… Deep breath again, in and out. She was going to stay calm this time if it killed her; she did not need a repeat of the screaming match she’d had with Alys here, where anyone could hear. “I was made to understand it was… not exclusively her ruse,” she managed at last. There, that sounded almost polite, even if the topic wasn’t suited to politeness.
“I’m not going back,” she announced, because she felt it needed to be said. “I don’t want --” the inheritance, the money -- “any of it. So please do not….. concern yourself with me.” (And hopefully the rapid blinking she had to engage in, having said these things, could be ignored.)
“I suppose not,” Genevieve agreed. “Getting Alys re-introduced into the noble ranks was the work of a great many people, myself included.” There was little point in denying that she had played a part. Though it had primarily been Altair and Arielle that had helped Alys, Genevieve had financed the entire operation. “When I was approached for help by Alys and Altair, I had only had suspicions of Audrey’s identity. They confirmed she was, indeed, Alys, and I willingly entered into the farce so that she could regain her status and so that you could be released from Demiels’ care.”
There was a chair leaning against the wall, and Genevieve made her way to it, sitting down. “As for Basil” she did not keep the sneer from her voice when speaking his name; the fool had complicated matters in a way she had not anticipated “that was entirely contrived between the two of them, though I will not go so far as to say that I had not planned to find a husband for Alys so that the inheritance could be transferred to her so that the two of you were capable of building your own lives.” Honesty seemed to be the best manner of dealing with this; she had decided that prior to coming here. Juliette had been lied to and used as a pawn by far more people in her short life than she ought to have, and while she had never been a pawn in Alys’ game - at least, to Genevieve’s knowledge - she had been horribly kept out of the loop.
It had been at Alys’ request, and at the time, Genevieve had agreed that it was the best option. Now, she mused, she could see that perhaps they had been wrong.
Maybe it was foolish of Juliette to want to believe this version -- still hurtful but somewhat better than what she’d been given prior, but…
Everyone around her, it seemed, was a skilled liar. She was the only exception.
It took all her willpower not to simply draw her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around them, like a small, distressed child. She combed her fingers through her wet hair for something to do and finally said, “That is not what she told me at all. She said you knew all along.” That had been the worst part -- she’d been left in a miserable situation until it was convenient to fetch her. “I never wanted the inheritance. Since that was all she wanted, I wouldn’t have fought her for it. I --” Faram help her, she might actually cry after all. “I recognize that…. unlike Alys, you had no obligation to… assist me,” she finally choked out. Whatever she might have fooled herself into believing, they weren’t family -- and anyway, family wasn’t what she’d thought, now was it? Storybooks lied. “No matter what you knew. So I know I should thank you for what you did do.”
Should.
“And I don’t know anything at all about… that man.” Even his name was now getting her strange looks and questions from those who knew who she was -- the horror, a brother-in-law who had tried to rob the treasury. No, she didn’t know him -- or want to.
Silence, again. Clearly, she was to finish her thought -- polite conversation demanded it. She had to say something, anything. She thought of the odd conversation she’d had with her taciturn bunkmate just the other day, and the same question she had been asked now came from her: “Why are you here?” Not, in retrospect, the politest thing to say. “I don’t -- if you’re worried about my well being,” she continued, “as you can see, I’m… perfectly fine.” Minus the remaining bruises that hadn’t quite been healed the day prior and the gnawing misery that came whenever she let the anger go. “I won’t get in Alys’ way. I won’t get in anyone’s way.” Maybe she’d join the Rangers. The idea was starting to have some merit -- get out of the city and stay somewhere far away until everyone forgot her altogether. (That she was a child dreaming of running away was a thought that didn’t even occur.)
“Ah, yes.” From what she had gathered, Audrey’s interpretation of events sounded quite selfish. She had been caught between a rock and a hard place, and had been trying to explain herself whilst in a panic. But she was not here to defend Audrey’s actions. No, Audrey would have to do that herself should Juliette decide to speak with her. “If you consider a strong suspicion as knowing, then yes, I have known for quite some time. Audrey never confirmed nor denied her identity, and I kept up with you and your well-being with the Demiels for my own satisfaction.” There were a great deal of reasons the Demiels had never had children of their own, and their dislike of them was only one.
“I do not know what prompted Alys to come out of hiding, nor will I speculate. That is a matter between the two of you. Nor have I come to plead Alys’ case to you. I came out of a selfish desire to ensure that you were well, and to offer you a more… suitable place to stay. Whether you wish to consort with me is irrelevant; your well-being is my primary motivation. You may take a room in the estate, or take up residence in the guest house if you wish, but my own selfish worry would rather you be somewhere safe that affords you privacy.” She paused, thinking over her words. “Which isn’t to say the guildhall isn’t safe, but this is an open dormitory, and my understanding is that tenants come and go as they need.”
She did not say she was there to take Juliette away; no, the girl was an adult by law, and she could no sooner force her to do what she did not wish to do. But the offer had been extended.
“I am also here to answer any questions you may have regarding my involvement with Alys.” She could not dispel the doubt so easily, but she did wish to let this portion of her life be transparent with Juliette.
It was likely the fact that Alys hadn’t sent her to intervene that had Juliette listening, and struggling over whether or not to believe. The last time she had allowed herself to believe something life-changing, it had ended… well. Here.
In some ways, the lonely existence she’d had for most of her life had been preferable. Caring for people was hard, and it was unbearably painful when they let you down. She didn’t want to go through it again, not so soon after the first time. “I don’t know whether I would like to go,” she finally answered. At least here she was making her own choices and responsible for her own well-being and happiness (that she was doing poorly at ensuring these two things was something she preferred not to think of at all).
“I just want the truth.” She hadn’t meant to say it, but the words came almost of their own volition. She wiped at her eyes, which were not particularly dry. “I just want to be told the truth and not be -- be -- hit over the head with it on accident because a dog ran where he oughtn’t. I’ve never lied, not to any of you.” She paused. “Never intentionally. There are things I simply do not say but not out of distrust or malice. I’m beginning to suspect,” a sniffle, “that I am the only one who is this foolish.”
“Honesty is not a foolish trait, though amongst the nobility, it is a rare one that people oft seek to exploit.” It was one of the reasons Genevieve distanced herself from those that were truly genuine. A hazard of her class and her profession. “I will say this on Alys’ behalf: she had thought she was doing what was best. In retrospect, it clearly was not. As for my role in all of this, I simply wished to ease your and Alys’ burden. I volunteered myself as her guardian so that there would be a stable environment in which to bring you into, else she would not have been able to have custody transferred from the Demiels. Aside from consulting me regarding her marriage, my role has been limited.”
Genevieve wished to cross the room and gather the girl up in her arms, but she remained where she was sitting. “Ultimately, Juliette, you are an adult. What you choose to do, how you choose to live from here on out, is entirely up to you. You are not obligated to do anything you do not desire to do. But if you wish the truth, I can give you only mine. I can give you no truth for anyone else.”
But you know more than that. It was on the tip of her tongue, but Juliette didn’t say it. It wasn’t fair, was it, to ask for an explanation of Alys’ actions? She’d gotten one directly from the source, and it had been terrible enough that she didn’t relish a rehashing of the tale, even in a different rendition. “You don’t need to speak on Alys’ behalf. You needn’t speak of Alys anymore at all.” She really didn’t think she’d hold up much longer, and that simply wasn’t going to be permitted. Not that scolding herself often worked, but…
She could wipe at her face with the towel under pretense of removing droplets of water that had meandered down from her hair. And that was all.
“I don’t know whether I want to still be angry with you.” More honesty, but what was the point in trying to conceal her feelings from someone so astute? She was furious with Alys, but the Countess’ logic was impeccable -- and after all, she hadn’t owed Juliette anything. Not even the truth, but certainly not her aid. “I do know I’m not going anywhere right now.” Right now wasn’t never. The only concession she could truly give.
It was, at least, a start. Genevieve nodded, but she could not quell the disappointment. “Such is your choice. If you change your mind and decide you would like a change of scenery, you need only let me know.” With that, she stood and inclined her head towards Juliette. “I shan’t keep you from your training. Have a pleasant day.”
“You, as well.” Why, Juliette wondered, was it so difficult to let things lie, to let the Countess walk away even when it was exactly what Juliette had hoped for? Certainly, she’d weathered the conversation with relative aplomb, but…
As the Countess exited the room, one of her current roommates entered; his head turned and he followed the disappearing woman’s form with his eyes, then let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Who’s that dish? You got fancy visitors now? Introduce me sometime.”
“She isn’t any of your business,” Juliette said shortly. It was, she had found, the only way to deal with this particular individual (she had known it even before she’d been warned by Ceres Uppsala). “As for your request to make her acquaintance, it is highly unlikely that she would be interested.”
“You’re a little snot, you know that?” the man said, his leer melting away into a rather unpleasant expression.
“I am certain you think so.” Suddenly, she just wanted to get out. This tiny space that she had carved out as her own was far too small. She grabbed her brush from the drawer in her nightstand -- the only furniture she could claim aside from the cot itself -- and rose to her feet. “Excuse me, please.”
She ignored his high-pitched and nasal mimicry of her words as she strode down the hall and back to the bathroom. She’d brush her hair, wash her face, and go about her day.
And she’d think, perhaps, about that change of scenery.