~Lord Aymer, the Duke of Alcas
It was after I had become the Duke of Alcas that I met the Lesley family of Aquitian. My father had passed rather suddenly after which my mother passed as well. I being the only son had no competition to worry of so I ascended to the family title of Duke at the age of twelve. With no one to check me, I had an adolescence that was unrestrained and unreined until when I was seventeen and I met the young Marquis Lesley and after, his sister, the Countess Lesley, who was six when I first met her acquaintance.
The Lesley family was an old noble family with strong ties to both the Holy City and the Duchy of Dromor, for Aquitian and it's center, Kalis, was a bordering region in the Empire's realm closest to Dromor. Their location made them a valuable asset to the Holy City as well as being the source of their misery.
The Lesley men were notorious for their defiance to the Holy City's increasing corrupt tyrannical rule. Though they never performed an outright coup d'état, the family did defy the strict traditions of the Church in little ways. The most famous symbol of their rebellion was their refusal of the Handmaidens given to every nobleman by the Holy City.
The Handmaidens were a creation of the Holy City to appease the 27 royal Houses, which threatened to revolt against the Church with the increasing dissension. The strict rules of decorum displeased the warring men and as their displeasure grew, the Church created the system of the Handmaidens as an addendum to their existing organization of nuns called the Sisterhood. Pretty young girls were drafted and raised within the Vatican then distributed to the noblemen as legal concubines of sorts. This medieval act quelled their anger and the noblemen quieted down.
The Lesley family, being a powerful princedom headed by the militarily powerful Archdukes, were no exception in this distribution of these young women who were meant to be examples of religious and faithful morals. With their princedom's physical distance from Holy City, the Lesley men had the courage to disregard these temptresses and remain faithful to their wives. The Handmaidens they received were demoted to acting as mere nurses and nannies for the legitimate children their wives bore. This vexed the Church for the purpose of the Handmaidens was to give birth the heirs of these royal houses and in a sense tying them as children of the Church through their mothers.
Surprisingly, the Lesley men loved their wives and every marriage proved to be a love match, though arranged. The men's steadfastness in their devotion to one woman, their wives, made them the butt of ridicule among the other noblemen who enjoyed several Handmaidens. However to many of the unhappily married noble wives, the Lesley men were examples of the romance they dreamed of as young girls and were secretly admired from afar.
The current patriarch of the family was Pelias, the Archduke Lesley of Aquitian. His mother, the Lady Felicitas of Parma, had been the deceased Cardinal Pazzi's 2nd daughter but the first by his natural wife, Dona Laura, who in turn was the offspring of the 4th Handmaiden of the Prince of the House Voreii.
The Archduchess Lesley and wife of Pelias was the Princesse Agaline from the House of Claret. She was the first daughter of her father's first Handmaiden, Maid Heloïse. She, herself being an offspring of a Handmaiden, never expected to have the fortune of marrying the powerful Archduke, who was devoted to her completely. Still, she treated her supposed to be rival, Maid Graciana, as her sister and a part of the family. Together, they harmoniously raised the Archduchess's two offspring, Phaeln and Parmalis.
Phaeln, the Marquis Lesley of Normand and Prince of Aquitian, was the heir apparent to one of the grandest inheritances in history. I stumbled upon the handsome, amiable young man in my seventeenth year, and when he was fourteen during a hunting trip near our borders. His party boasted of his exceedingly excellent skills in archery, but I noticed how he had not succeeded in shooting any game; I had tried to express my sympathies when he kindly corrected me.
"Monsieur, it is not that I cannot hit my prey. It is that I cannot kill something which has done nothing to me," the young Marquis Phaeln explained measuredly, without a hint of falsity or pride.
I was pleased with the young man's honor and we became fast friends as I acted to him mentor of sorts in our aristocratic lives.
It was several years later when I joined Phaeln in their family home to greet his new Handmaiden, I saw his much beloved sister. The little countess was clad in a voluminous, long silk skirt of the deepest blue shade. The azure shade of her skirt only accentuated her most unusual coloring and I felt a strange comfort looking upon her fire-glinted hair.
Phaeln jovially greeted the pretty young thing as he lifted her from her tall, darkly clad guard.
She sat easily at the crook of her elder brother's arm, one long slender arm wrapped around his neck.
"Parmalis, this is the Duke of Alcas, Lord Aymer. Monsieur, this is my sister, the Countess Lesley Parmalis of Poiters," Phaeln grandly introduced his child sister.
"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance Countess," I bowed to the child, as her brother and I laughed at our grandiose display.
"You are Phaeln's friend?" she asked unblinking.
The child narrowed her stone green eyes as she seemed puzzled. I felt a slight shiver run through my nerves and I had an uncanny feeling that she was dissecting me—seeing into the depths of my soul, figuring my secrets.
"Parmalis! Forgive me, Monsieur. Ma petite soeur, my little sister, she has not yet fully learned the proper decorum's expected from a Lesley lady," the Marquis colored at his sister's disrespect as I laughed.
"C'est pas grave…it's alright. Oui, Mademoiselle Countess. I am your brother's friend," I nodded amiably towards her.
"Are you sure your name is not Laurent?" she continued to press on as her brows furrowed inquisitively.
"Pardon?" I was startled both by her question and her insistent gaze.
"Parmalis, what sort of a question is that? I introduced the Duke as Lord Aymer. Where in the world did you hear that name?" Phaeln looked just as startled and confused.
"Je ne sais pas…I do not know. I just felt that it was the Duke's name…but Laurent, that's an odd name. Nobles don't have names they use in the Holy City," the young countess spoke calmly with no fear.
"That's interesting Countess…" I mused as I struggled to keep a nonchalant smile.
"What is?" her green eyes bore into mine.
"It was considered for my christening…" I spoke slowly as her gaze unsettled me still, "There were thoughts of my joining the priesthood."
"Why would you do something like that? The Holy City is an unpleasant place," she frowned distastefully.
"Is that what you believe?" I laughed at the child's bold opinions.
"Oui. Maman had taken me there for my christening and I absolutely abhorred it," she shook her pretty little head decidedly, the bright red strands of her hair floating about her.
"Parmalis, don't be silly. How can you remember your christening, ma petite? You were only six months old," Phaeln pinched her nose playfully and teased her.
"Mais je connais! I do remember Phaeln. I do!" she brushed his hands aside as she insisted.
"Je suis desolee, Monsieur. Parmalis has always been very keen on observation," he smiled brilliantly as he hoisted his sister up.
I merely smiled and nodded with good humor. I suppose that I should have noticed it then…perhaps I would have been able to protect her better then. The unnaturally luminous pallor of her perfect skin, the glittering steely intelligence reflective in her glassy bottle green eyes, and the harsh blood tinted hair of hers. There was something different about her certainly yet something quite familiar to what I had previously seen in my long gone Aunt Aenor. But I hardly had time to reflect upon her knowledge of my once considered christening name, as I was introduced to Phaeln's beautiful Handmaiden, Maid Naomi.
"Ah, Monsieur, may I present Mademoiselle Naomi. She is Parmalis's and my new sister."
"Sister?" I questioned as I eyed the lovely young woman in front of me, clad entirely in the heavy brocade of the Sisterhood that was cut deceptively provocative in the bodice.
"Oui, Monsieur. She shall be a wonderful companion to my fiancée, the Cintanian Infanta, Princess Téresitte. But already Mademoiselle Naomi has already become a wonderful elder sister to Parmalis," the naïve Marquis smiled as he gestured to the charming picture of the Handmaid embracing the young Comtesse.
"Well, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance as well, Maid Naomi," I acknowledged her with grave politesse.
She demurely smiled as she gave the appearance of the utmost friendliness. Yet I noticed that there was impatience and something kin to ambition underneath her smooth angelic face. I sensed that Maid Naomi did not share the same temperament as the Archduke Pelias's handmaiden, Maid Graciana. I could not share my suspicions however for the two siblings in front of me, the Marquis and the Countess, were looking at the young woman with great naïve familial fondness. I did not wish to disrupt this peace with merely suspicions.
I resided with the Lesley family in their palace for some time as I viewed the happy family in their preparations for Phaeln's wedding. And it was during this stay when I noticed the young countess's continued qualms about me.
As I lounged with Phaeln in the courtyard laughing at the flailing flirtations that his grooms were attempting with the young court ladies, I could hear the whispers of the young countess to her mother, the Archduchess.
"The Duke of Alcas, Maman, is the most complicated person I have yet seen. There seems to be two spirits in that one body…two souls fighting. What do you suppose it means Maman?" Parmalis asked Agaline in gentle whispers, though I still heard their conversation.
"Sacré bleu, goodness, the questions you ask Parmalis are too grim for a child your age. Pray, speak lighter, happier thoughts. For my sake?" The Archduchess smiled away the young countess's concerns.
"Oui, Maman. But still…do you not feel that?" Parmalis persisted.
"The Duke makes an excellent tutor for your brother. And he is extremely amiable. I see nothing strange about that and I recommend that you stop speaking such foolishness, particularly in front of the Duke. He will mistake it as a great offense to his character. D'accord?" Agaline looked into her daughter's gaze with a firm finality.
"Oui, je sais, I know. Okay," the young countess demurred and I relaxed from afar.
I remained in my languid position, smiling at the laughing court ladies idly. Cautiously I spied at the little one's direction and proceeded to laugh as I saw her enthusiastically showing her elegant mother various humorous expressions while easily showing off her gymnastic skills. Though I greatly enjoyed her intelligent company, I had to remind myself to be wary of her prying eyes.