Palace of Versailles, France - Summer 2018 (The Clements)

The summer had been spent with the preparation of going to Scotland. Elenore despised the decision that Jacques had made almost three years earlier. When Elenore had found that Jacques would be heading to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons, she'd hurried along to her Grandmere's withdrawing room to ask why Jacques would ever think of leaving the family's traditions to go to Hogwarts.

Despite everybody's thoughts in the castle to the contrary, Elenore was not in the slightest bit stupid, or slow. If Jacques was going to Hogwarts, it meant she would have to follow in order to not raise questions within the family. It was not, in Elenore's mind, fair that she would have to give up the beauty of Beauxbatons for a school as plain as Hogwarts.

Grandmere had been of little help that day, reminding Elenore that her parents had likely placed the idea in Jacques' mind, and that it was them who were stealing her from tradition.

Elenore had poured her heart in to her diary after that. With Grandmere offering no solace, her diary heard of all the worries she had of attending Hogwarts. All her reasons for not wanting to go to the foreign land. And her worry... the worry that if she was sent away to Hogwarts, her Maman and Papa could not possibly love her. For taking away the school she loved so dearly could only mean they did not believe her worthy of the Clement name and traditions.

But, Elenore had not brought the problem to her Maman or Papa. She knew better.

Both of her parents had left shortly after Jacques decision. To America, the children had been told, but they had not been given any specifics further than that. Jacques had left for Hogwarts shortly after, and for the first time in her life, Elenore had been left alone in the large confines of the Palace.

Two years had passed, though, with little more information rising from her parents trips to America. Only the knowledge that a friend had a child who was unwell, and both her Maman and Papa were doing everything they could to help. When they were home, her Papa was busy with Clement business, and her Maman... her Maman was the same as always, trying to make her play the piano, or checking on her development, but never (in Elenore's opinion, and her Grandmere's constant commentary when they were alone) taking an interest in Elenore and her real likes.

Jacques had come home that summer to a fanfare of love and attention, with stories a plenty of what Hogwarts was like, of his friends, and the things he'd learned at the school. He boasted of how well he'd been doing in classes -- or it sounded like boasting to Elenore -- before returning to his usual antics of being the favourite.

The school robes for Hogwarts had arrived that morning, and Elenore had tried them on to make sure they fit. Unlike the beautiful blue uniforms of Beauxbatons, the Hogwarts uniform was dull, unfitted, and uncomfortable. The young witch's lower lip had trembled as she looked at herself in the mirror. The pictures that would be taken of her first day at Hogwarts would look nothing like the beauty of her Maman's on her first day of school.

The tears had started to flow in that moment, her Grandmere instructing the maid to take the uniform away as Elenore leaned in to her Grandmere's side, unable to control the sobs that wracked her slender frame. "Je ne veux pas aller à l'école, Grandmere." The young witch insisted, barely making out each word because the young witch's control was gone.

She hadn't done anything to deserve being sent away...

She'd done everything her parents had asked for her.

A soft knock at the door announced a member of the staff, who let themselves in sheepishly. "Mlle Elenore Lissette est requise dans l'étude de son Seigneurie." The lady informed the two of them, waiting a moment before she was dismissed once more.

"Sèche tes yeux, enfant. Vous savez que vous ne pouvez pas changer d'avis." Grandmere insisted, straightening Elenore back up and looking over her. The slightly reddened eyes were not going to be able to be fixed in the short time, but Lady Lynnette Clement knew that this was a problem for her son and his wife, not herself. "Aller."

Elenore did not need to be told twice, and after giving her Grandmere a small curtsy of respect, she moved quickly, yet graciously to her father's study. The eleven year old paused at the door, collecting herself even though she only wished to run to her chambers and hide for the rest of the day. Papa would not come to force her downstairs, Papa was understanding, but Elenore knew her Maman would not allow her that time.

The young witch knocked ever so carefully on the door once she'd readied herself. A moment's pause, and she pushed the door open to admit herself. "Tu voulais me voir, Papa?" Elenore asked as she stepped inside, taking in the presence of Jacques who stood waiting, and her Maman who was sat in her Papa's chair. Elenore's eyes quickly sought out her father, who stood by the window, clearly waiting for her arrival before the topic of the meeting of all of them would be broached.

"Maman," Elenore added, dipping her head politely at the older witch, and then did the same to Jacques, though she did not greet him with words. Elenore was still mad with Jacques, and she would, at least, be able to get away with that small amount of rudeness. Papa would not chastise her, she knew that much already.

But now... now she felt even more conscious of the slightly reddened eyes, and trained her eyes down to the floor, waiting.

Je ne veux pas aller à l'école, Grandmere -- I don't want to go to school, Grandmere

Mlle Elenore Lissette est requise dans l'étude de son Seigneurie. -- Miss Elenore Lissette is required in his Lordship's study.

Sèche tes yeux, enfant. Vous savez que vous ne pouvez pas changer d'avis. -- Dry your eyes, child. You know you can't change their minds.

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Palace of Versailles, France - Summer 2018 (The Clements) Signat12

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The past few years had been the hardest of Vanessa Clement’s life. Well, the second hardest – she would often reflect with guilt as she would tuck Elenore in for the night or watch over an unconscious Mimosa just wheeled out of surgery. Life had gone on long enough to make her realize that she could deal with anything as long as Louis remained by her side. And when he wasn’t there, well, she didn’t live. So alive she had been these last few years, happy even on the rare few days when Jacques would write home or news of his accomplishment would reach the palace. The days where Elenore would showcase her growing talent in almost every field glowed against the backdrop of grief and the moments in which Mimosa would open her eyes and recognize her, the little child’s face lighting up with happiness at the sight of her Grandmere and Grandpere, those were the days Vanessa had lived for in these past three years.

And it seemed her prayer, her patience and her resolve was finally bearing fruit. Mimosa’s final surgery had been near four months ago and the child was holding steady. No fractures, no bruising, no sign that with enough cushioning charms around the house, she would ever hurt herself so severely again. Even the deep gash on the child’s forehead was all but gone, Clara having had the foresight to encourage the child to grow out her hair.

Jacques had flourished at Hogwarts, just as brilliant and charismatic as he had been in his home country. Vanessa had always known her son was a born prince but Jacques Clement had proven it once again by trading uncharted waters and coming out strong. He had been sorted in Slytherin almost immediately which had given Vanessa some solace and since then, all his professors couldn’t stop singing his praises. The almost teen was invited to every school club, chosen first for every team and on the fast track to becoming a prefect if rumors were to be trusted. In his first year, he had written to his parents weekly but after that, the correspondence had become lesser. Vanessa didn’t blame him, it was good that he was so preoccupied with his life that he barely had time to write home. Her own letters however did not stop, prompt to the day in case he ever needed reminding of how much his parents loved and missed him back home.

Elenore seemed to conversely crawl into her shell once her brother left, choosing not to come to mal times on some days and requesting the use of one of the more out of the way areas of the palace for her music lessons instead of the appropriated music room she had practiced in thus far. Her embroidery became less whimsical and full of color, the child sticking to harsh, straightforward monochrome patterns and Vanessa worried her daughter was losing interest. She had even spoken to Maman about it who just assured her it was “the blues” and Elenore would get over it soon. Lynnette Clement had taken on additional responsibility for the child as Vanessa and Louis found themselves dividing their time between France and America, and keeping up with a never ending list of engagements. Maman had been right, Elenore came out of her shell a few months later, a strange resolve on her featues that looked far too grim for a girl her age. When Vanessa had tried to question her daughter about it, Elenroe had simply said she was fine.

And then there was Mimosa. Vanessa still remembered the day with perfect clarity when the child had gazed up at her with big blue eyes, pointed straight at her and said “gwandmwere.” It was the day Kit Harrington had stopped fighting. just as she had recognized so long ago his love for the child, he now recognized Mimosa’s love for her grandparents. Though the men watching over the little girl held little faith in omens, Vanessa was sure this was a sign that things would improve. And they had. Mimosa was fine, as healthy as she could be and finally, finally, Kit had agreed to send her over to the palace for a week this summer. The same summer in which Elenroe would be leaving fro her first year at Hogwarts.

The Clements had been ready to receive Mimosa, their lawyers hard at work to reenact the position of a palace ward to fit the child. It would give Mimosa all the legal rights in the world to visit the palace and be counted as family without rousing suspicion. What was more, the status would also give Louis and Vanessa the right to look after the child and assume guardianship should the need ever arise. Finally, all three of their children were taken care of, and it was all because Louis saw through the ties of blood to accept Mimosa into their fold. Now, Vanessa could only hope that they had taught their children well enough to consider the same.

Jacques was the first to arrive in his Papa’s study, greeting them softly before going to hug his Maman and give her a soft kiss on the cheek. He was getting so tall, he would be her height in a year or two. Or so it seemed. Vanessa could feel Louis smiling by the window and knew he was thinking the same thing of their son. Out of his habit, Lord Clement had given his chair to his wife, preferring to stand until the small family was gathered. Elenore arrived a few minutes later, entering the study and greeting her parents politely but not extending the courtesy to her brother. Vanessa would have frowned if she made it a habit to display emotions so clearly. Had the siblings had an argument she was unaware of? Grey eyes studied Elenore carefully until they came to rest on the child’s own red eyes. Had Elenore been… crying?

“Elenore chéri, est-ce que tu vas bien?” the witch questioned, concern flooding her features. All thought of the conversation they had prepared for the children flew from her mind as Vanessa rose from her seat, ready to make her way to th eleven year old. “Vous sentez-vous malade? Devrions-nous appeler le Maester.” Everything else in the world could wait until they had made absolutely sure their daughter was alright.

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Palace of Versailles, France - Summer 2018 (The Clements) Rsz_ve10

Elenore had believed, for even a moment, that she would have been able to get away with the slight redness around her eyes -- not hugely noticeable, really, but Elenore had forgotten momentarily of the woman she was dealing with, and that meant she would not be getting away with this. Elenore could see her Papa turning from the window as her Maman began to rise, beautifully in sync with one another, as they always were.

"Non, Maman," Elenore quickly replied when the Lady Clement had asked her if she needed to see the Maester. "J'ai attrapé mon doigt en pratiquant ma broderie, Grandmere m'a aidé à le guérir." The eleven year old lied, not wishing to explain the real reason for her tears. Especially not in front of Jacques who had not shown a hint of fear, or distaste, for being sent away from home almost two years earlier.

"C'était une coupe profonde." Elenore added, in order to make up for the fact she'd quite obviously been more than a little bit upset, and a simple pin prick was not going to have done that to Elenore. Though, of course, Elenore was also quite skilled with her embroidery work, and the idea of hurting herself whilst doing so was far fetched, but one she knew to be plausible no less.

Grandmere wouldn't tell Maman the truth, either, of that much Elenore was quite certain.

But even as Elenore had lied to her Maman's face, the young witch could not decipher the look on her features. It looked to be concern that riddled her Maman's features, but Elenore was not so sure that she had read such things correctly.

Elenore's eyes had moved away from her Maman's, though, catching Jacques looking at her in a manner that said he did not believe her. Almost as if he could see right through her in a manner Elenore neither appreciated, nor liked. So, instead she turned her attention back to her Papa. It would be rude to prompt him once more for the reason for their meeting, but Elenore hoped he would explain sooner rather than later so that she could get away again. She needed her diary, to spill her feelings out in to once more.

"Y a-t-il des nouvelles d'Amérique, Papa?" Jacques asked both of their parents at last, for Jacques could do no wrong. Neither one of them, to Elenore's knowledge at least, knew of what their parents were really doing in America, but Jacques was obviously unabashed in asking of their trip, even if indirectly.

To be like Jacques... so fearless, so unflinching, so... controlled in everything that he did, was something Elenore longed to be seen in the same light. He was, without a doubt, the epitome of a Clement heir, and Elenore longed to be like him. To be loved by their parents like him.

To be respected like him.

But Grandmere had always said that Jacques would be the center of attention, until she was sixteen, and they could find her the right match.

J'ai attrapé mon doigt en pratiquant ma broderie, Grandmere m'a aidé à le guérir. -- I caught my finger whilst practicing my embroidery, Grandmere aided me in healing it.

C'était une coupe profonde. -- It was a deep cut.

Y a-t-il des nouvelles d'Amérique, Papa? -- Is there news from America, Papa?

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Hurting herself was embroidering was a beginner’s mistake, and Elenore was no beginner. Though she could be trying to overdo and it attempt more complicated patterns. Vanessa made a note to look through the child’s work later that day. If her daughter was indeed trying something far too ambitious for her level, then she could use both some help and encouragement. Perhaps the mother daughter dup could embroider something as a welcome gift for the coming child. Little Mimosa would love something embroidered just for her.

As Jacques casually asked If there was news from American, Louis simply smiled. The child was sharp, there was never any doubt about that. And to him there wasn’t much of a leap between the trips to the heinous continent and calling him and his sister in here for an important announcement. “Ll y a en effet, mais nous allons laisser votre mère procéder.” The Lord Clement gestured for his wife to take the floor from where she sat, content at observing his family gathered in the study.

“Well, as you both know,” Vanessa began evenly, maintaining eye contact with both the children while she spoke. “Your Papa and I have been going back and forth between France and American these last few years to see to the health of our dear friend’s daughter. She was a very sick little girl who needed lots of doctors to make her well again. And as of her last surgery in February, we are delighted to report that she is all but healed.” Vanessa couldn’t contain the joy of the announcement even if it wasn’t expressed in obvious ways. The happiness in her grey eyes was plain to see for everyone in that room. Their little Mimosa had finally made it. Louis had been right all those years ago when he had promised her the child would live.

“She is five years old and the most adorable thing you will ever see. But most importantly, she is now well enough to visit us here at the palace so you can meet her too. We are sure you will fall in love with her the moment you see her just like your Papa and I did.” The Lady Clement was confident when she said those words. How could someone not fall in love with the little child who gazed at the world with big blue eyes and tried to form complicated words with her inexperienced tongue?

“She will be arriving here for the final week of summer, so you can both get to know her before you leave for Hogwarts. We’d like to specify however that though she may be well, the little one cannot partake in strenuous physical activities, or even run very fast. Her bones are very brittle and she gets tired easily. So you’ll have to find ways of entertaining her without having her physically exert herself. Does that sound like a challenge, my darlings?” The last question was in jest of course, she had no doubt that her children would be nothing but kind to Mimosa.

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As their Papa explained that Maman would be the one to explain the situation from America, Elenore's eyes moved cautiously up at the older witch, watching her as she spoke. The information that came was delivered with a lot of happiness, happiness that Elenore believed to be a little too...

The words cut through Elenore, though, the fact that she was better. A little girl... Elenore's eyes shifted to her Papa, searching for something but coming up short. Her eyes moved back to her Maman as she continued on with the explanation, her face kept in something of a neutral expression as her mind raced to try to keep up.

The more her Maman kept talking, though, Elenore felt uneasy. Her parents had fallen in love with another little girl... And the little girl, whoever she might be, was coming to the Palace imminently. Had Elenore not been the lady she was, she might have reached out to the chair to her right to stabilise herself. Instead, the young witch simply moved her hand from holding the other, and carefully placed them on her stomach, putting a light pressure on the knot that had developed there a she concentrated instead on her breathing, and not the words her Maman was speaking in that moment.

She would not allow the room to spin. The room was not growing smaller around her. It was a figment of her imagination, and Elenore Lissette Clement was stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

How much she'd channelled out, Elenore couldn't have said, but her ears caught Jacques question fine.

"Maman," He'd said softly, Elenore's eyes had landed on the thirteen year old heir to see he was smiling in the manner that showed he was truly happy with this news. Of course, Elenore reflected, it was not his role within the family that was being put under scrutiny. He was the heir, the favourite, and Maman would never do anything to hurt him. "What is the girl's name? You speak of her as she, but we need a name to be able to greet her properly at the Palace."

Elenore envied him, being able to play so coolly in the face of uncertainty. Where he could work things through, and come out of top.

"Her name is Mimosa Harrington," Their Papa replied, obviously wishing to show a united front. The name meant nothing to Elenore, but her eyes caught the small amount of a knowing nod to know Jacques knew more than she did.

The youngest Clement didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter.

"Elenore and I will be much too happy to keep her busy," Jacques replied for the pair of them. "Would a walk around the gardens be okay? Or perhaps we could show her the Dehlientelle -- she will love that, I'm sure. And, perhaps Elenore could show her the method of embroidering. There's the library, of course. And, if Mimosa feels up to it, I can show her the Palace." Jacques supplied, showing he was already thinking of the less strenuous activities available.

Elenore, however, was not listening.

Her mind was already elsewhere. She needed her Grandmere. Grandmere would know who Mimosa was. Grandmere would explain... Her heart was hammering against her chest, trying to burst from it's cage, but not succeeding.

"I look forward to meeting her, Maman." Elenore added in way of her feelings to the situation. She knew it was not enough, she knew it was not as enthusiastic as perhaps it should have been. But Elenore couldn't have mustered more if she tried.

Mimosa Harrington was, surely, being brought to the Palace for one reason, and one reason only.

As Elenore's replacement.

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» The Palace of Versailles, 2002 (Louis)
» Versailles 2013 (Clements & Kit Harrington)
» The Palace of Versailles, 2009 (Louis)
» The Palace of Versailles, 2006 (Louis)
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