Read Online Assassin's Creed: Unity by Oliver Bowden - Free Book Online Page B

followed. There will be unrest, Élise, you mark my words.”
    I said nothing.
    “Which brings us to the matter of your behavior here at school,” he said. “You’re a senior now. A lady. And you should be behaving like one.”
    I thought about that and how wearing the seniors’ uniform of the Maison Royale didn’t make me feel like a woman. All it did was make me feel like a pretend-lady. When I felt like a real woman was after school, when I discarded the hated bone-stiff dress, unpinned my hair and let it drop to where it met my newly acquired bosom. When I gazed into the looking glass and saw my mother staring back at me.
    “You’re writing to Arno,” he said, as though wanting to try a different approach.
    “You’re not reading my letters, are you?”
    He rolled his eyes. “No, Élise, I am not reading your letters. For God’s sake, what do you think of me?”
    My own eyes dropped. “I’m sorry, Father.”
    “So busy rebelling against any available authority you’ve forgotten your true friends, is that it?”
    At her desk Madame Levene was nodding sagely, feeling vindicated.
    “I’m sorry, Father,” I repeated, ignoring her.
    “The fact remains that you have been writing to Arno and—going purely on what he has told me—you have done nothing to fulfill the terms of our agreement.”
    He cast a significant look toward the headmistress, eyebrows ever so slightly raised.
    “What agreement would that be, Father?” I asked innocently, the devil in me.
    With another brief nod in the direction of our audience, he added meaningfully, “The
agreement
we made before you left for Saint-Cyr, Élise, when you assured me you would be doing your utmost to convince Arno of his suitability for
adoption
into our family.”
    “I’m sorry, Father, I’m still not quite sure what you mean.”
    His brow darkened. Then with a deep breath he turned to the headmistress. “I wonder, Madame, if I might speak to my daughter alone.”
    “I’m afraid that runs contrary to the policies of the academy, monsieur.” She smiled sweetly. “Parents or guardians needing to see pupils in private must provide a request in writing.”
    “I know, but . . .”
    “I’m sorry, monsieur,” she insisted.
    He drummed his fingers on the leg of his breeches. “Élise, please don’t be difficult. You know exactly what I mean. Before you came away to school we agreed that the time was right to
adopt
Arno into our
family
.” He gave me a meaningful look.
    “But he is a member of another family,” I said, as though butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth.
    “Please do not play games with me, Élise.”
    Madame Levene gave a harrumph. “We are well used to that at the Maison Royale, monsieur.”
    “Thank you, Madame Levene,” said Father irritably. But when he returned his attention to me our eyes met, and some of the frostiness between us evaporated in the face of Madame Levene’s unwelcome presence, the corners of his mouth even twitching as he suppressed a smile. In response I gave him my most beatific, innocent look. His eyes grew affectionate as we shared the moment.
    He was more measured when he spoke. “Élise, I’m quite certain that I don’t need to remind you of the terms of our agreement. Simply to say that if you continue to fail to abide by them, then I shall have to take matters into my own hands.”
    We both stole a look at Madame Levene, who sat with her hands clasped on the desk in front of her, trying her level best not to look confused but failing miserably. It was the moment I came closest to simply bursting out laughing.
    “You mean you will attempt to persuade him of his suitability, Father?”
    He became serious, catching me in his gaze. “I will.”
    “Even though by doing that, you would lose me Arno’s trust?”
    “It’s a risk I would have to take, Élise,” replied Father. “Unless you do as you have agreed to do.”
    And what I had agreed to do was indoctrinate Arno. Bring him into the fold.