The Truth About Noussoir
Part 7. Of Lovers and Sisters
“Why does Malachie kiss you when he is married to La Vicomtesse?”
“Bon...” said Suzanne, stalling, “because he loves me.”
“But, he is your brother, isn’t he?”
“Oui, and a brother can love his sister.”
“But does a brother love a sister like that?”
“Bon...”
“Does a brother kiss his sister like that?”
Suzanne was in a bind.
She had been educating Noussoir for the past three years, everything from geography to mathematics, from courtly etiquette to Belcadizan, from forest lore to horseback-riding, to poetry, heraldry, card games, dancing and other things a Glantrian gentleman should know.
Noussoir was a strange young man, for though he seemed to be physically in the prime of his youth, his mind was a clean slate with no memories, no experiences, no life of twenty-odd years to speak of. It was as if Noussoir was born yesterday.
And yet, the man-child had great capacity for learning. He understood everything with the depth of an adult, yet with the simple unmuddled clarity of a child.
Like a child, Noussoir was also innocent and unassuming, and emotionally very sensitive.
Now, Suzanne was faced with a difficult situation of explaining the odd sleeping arrangements of Prince Malachie du Marais, his nominal wife Vicomtesse Diane de Moriamis, and herself.
“Noussoir, it’s a bit more complicated than that. You see...”
“Suzanne, I’m your brother, right?”
“Des cours, Noussoir! Of course, you are!”
“And Malachie is my brother?”
“Oui, oui, naturellement....” Suzanne answered, worried where this inquiry could have come from. (The stable hand had always been loose-tongued.)
“And you are my sister?”
“Oui. Now, Noussoir, why are you asking—”
“And do you love me?”
“Of course, Noussoir, I love you!” Suzanne said with all sincerity.
Indeed, since she and Malachie had taken in the lost young man as their ‘brother.’ Noussoir has managed to endear himself to the Prince and Suzanne, but more so the latter than the former. Suzanne credited this to the fact that, although Malachie had a need to have a family around him, much like a pack leader needing his wolf pack, Malachie was still not used to the idea of having a younger brother, so different and yet so amazingly similar to him.
Of course, Suzanne noted, the fact that she now spends a lot of time with Noussoir, and thus less with Malachie, may have sparked some jealousy or even a ‘sibling rivalry’ between the two ‘brothers’—not that young Noussoir could ever replace Malachie’s place in her heart.
“Would you kiss me?” Noussoir asked.
In the distant night, a wolf howled at the full moon.
In the study chambers of Château Morlay, all was quiet and all was still. Even the breaths of Noussoir and Suzanne were held in their chests and could not be heard.
“Oh, Noussoir...” Suzanne cried, as she stepped to embrace him.
Noussoir stood confused. He had thought his lips would touch on hers. Instead, his face was buried in her hair. The heavy beating of her heart was pounding into his ears. The sweet fragrance of her rich brown locks were intoxicating.
All at once, the two heard another wolf howl. This time it was much, much closer.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Epilogue
