“America used to be best friends with France until Lothaire took over the throne,” Manon explained. “The King of France does not get along with the Merrics. He barely leaves his palace.”
I wasn’t sure meeting with me constituted as a peace treaty.
“That is true,” Enzo agreed. “He said he’d be here tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow. Like, in the morning?”
“Yes, yes,” he said. I jumped up from my chair and hugged him. Enzo was quite pleased with himself. “I know, I know. Remember this feeling when deciding on a raise next year.”
“So he’s coming here tomorrow?” Doc asked.
“Well, to Boston. Waverly will have to meet him at a select restaurant.” Enzo rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t come here. He’s defrosting slightly towards America but not so warm as to show up here for a meal.”
I sat back, nearly unable to catch my breath. “I can’t believe I’m going to meet the Prince of France.”
“No, le roi. The King of France. This is such an honor,” Manon said.
No wonder Enzo was so excited. Lothaire Deluce. The Prince. I’d seen the pictures. This man knew my grandma very well. If anyone knew what she had been like here in this world, it was this man.
“Tomorrow?” Doc said, and I turned to him. He wasn’t pleased. “How is this going to happen? She’s an unarmed, untrained Merric. I know some of the men from Barton were brought here, but that is not enough security. She would be in tremendous danger.”
Enzo waved his hand like he was swatting an annoying fly. He sat back in his seat and took a large bite of cake before he said, “There is one little caveat. Your uncle was not planning on letting you leave L’Autre Bête, not until you’ve had training.” As he was saying this, we heard the chatter of rather rowdy people in the hallway.
Manon’s body tensed. “Enzo, what did you do?”
Doc sat up straight, his arms firmly placed on the table as though to brace himself for something terrible.
A woman shuffled through the doorway. Her head was down like she was watching her feet, careful not to stumble as she moved. Her blond hair cascaded down her shoulder and over her face like water rolling over rocks in a river. She made her way to the chair next to Manon. Manon trembled.
Enzo stood, and even though he cleared his throat, his voice cracked as he spoke. “May I present the Duchess Claudette Rebecca Overton Merric, Duchess of Georgia, Duchess of Alabama, Lady of Oklahoma… your cousin.”
Her head remained down. So, this was my cousin. This was Claudette.
The room was pin-drop silent.
Claudette raised her head. Her eyes landed directly on me. Mercury gray eyes. My eyes. I couldn’t help staring. They were all I saw. Claudette glared with such intensity I wanted to crawl under the table and stay there, but I couldn’t. Her eyes were all I focused on. If she was looking at me, I looked nowhere else. Luckily, she picked up a spoon from the table and puckered at her own reflection. “That’s what I thought.”
Suddenly, the room felt warmer. The heat was coming from Claudette. Her body was abnormally hot, like Grandma and Bollard’s. There was something more though. Something was off. My gut told me I should leave, but my butt had been cemented to my seat. I had to look at this cousin of mine. She wore red hot lipstick and a slinky black dress. She flipped her long locks off her bare shoulders.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked. I noticed a group of her friends waiting in the hallway, their heads all craning to see us.
“Claudette will need to accompany you tomorrow,” Enzo said, his voice cracking. “She will be the added protection you need.”
I blinked for a second, and when I opened my eyes, Claudette was glaring at Enzo and every muscle in her body was tensed. “You know how talented I am, don’t you, Enzo?” The people in the hallway laughed together.
Enzo stared at her in return. His face went pale, his eyes blank. Sweat trickled down his temples. His body was like a statue, like he had rigor mortis.
“Enzo, are you okay?” I reached my hand across the table to his. Enzo’s skin was hot and clammy, like he was running a high fever. Manon let out a little squeak. I turned to see her face contorted in pain, sweat dripping from her forehead. “Manon!”
Doc got up from his chair. “Claudette!”
“Relax, Tivoli.” Claudette closed her eyes and her body relaxed, and just like that, the strange heat dissipated. “I only wanted to see this cousin of mine and what a cousin she is.”
Manon folded forward and placed her head on the table. She let out a sigh of relief.
Enzo trembled as if he was struggling to fill his lungs. This felt familiar, like the night Bollard came to dinner. I was sure my cousin, like Bollard, had something to do with it.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
Enzo’s eyes teared up. He shook his head. “Okay, I’m okay.”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Claudette asked. She raised her hand in the air. “We need champagne. Cousins don’t meet cousins every day.”
One of the wait staff ran to the kitchen and back. He rushed over to pour me a glass. I stopped him. “Sorry, I’m seventeen.”
“You are funny.” Claudette and her crowd laughed. She polished off a glass, and the man filled it up. It went down the hatch even faster than the first. “Sorry, I’m seventeen,” she mocked.
This was followed by her friends crowing. “Seventeen, seventeen, seventeen. A riot.” As she laughed, the temperature in the room rose.
Enzo looked dizzy and even hotter than he had a moment before. His eyes had returned to Claudette. Manon put
