How bad was that thing for him to refuse to own it, at the risk of losing my trust for good?I ponder this for moment.
Henri is lost in his own thoughts, but then he mutters something about his family’s motto.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Something vague… A piece of knowledge tied to that motto that’s just at the edge of my memory. But it’s probably nothing.” He strides over to a bookshelf, his movements decisive. He pulls out an old tome and flips through its pages with a sense of urgency.
I step closer. The book is some sort of chronicle retracing his family’s history.
“There!” he exclaims. “I knew I’d heard something to that effect from Gran years ago. She’d go on for hours about various aspects of family history and genealogy. I’d listen for the first fifteen minutes, and then my mind would drift off, overwhelmed by too many names, dates and factoids.”
I lean in. “So, what is it?”
He scans the passage once more before speaking, “Our family motto used to be different before the French Revolution. In Latin it wasVentis Ducti, Fide Stabiles.”
Shutting my eyes to mobilize my Latin, I translate, “Guided by the Wind, Anchored by Faith.”
“My ancestors changed it to Guided by the Crown, Anchored by Loyalty after yours survived the revolutionary madness and reinforced their power,” he says. “The change of motto was meant to publicly affirm their allegiance to the royals. The old one was scraped from everything.”
I process this new information. “And you think this change in motto is relevant… how exactly?”
“No idea. It just resurfaced from the back of my mind, and I thought I’d tell you.”
“I appreciate it.”
He closes the tome with a gentle thud. “It’s funny how the de Bellays were already into virtue signaling two hundred thirty years ago, before virtue signaling was a thing.”
“I believe virtue signaling has been a constant throughout human history,” I say. “The shifting part is what we consider to be a virtue.”
He smiles. “You really don’t need to defend the de Bellays! We’re a nasty bunch.”
“I’m not defending, I’m just pointing out that there’s nothing wrong with a noble family being outspoken about their support for the royals.”
His smile widens. “The residual rebel in me begs to disagree.”
“Well,” I grin back, “if I’m entirely honest, your old motto was pretty cool.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You really think that?”
“I do! Being guided by the wind while keeping faith, is a lovely symbol of resilience and adaptability through turbulent times.”
“Very well put, Your Highness!”
“You come from a clan of survivors that made it through much upheaval and change,” I say. “You should feel proud of your ancestry. Where so many others broke, yours kept faith and pivoted with the wind.”
A flicker of realization sparks in Henri’s eyes. His gaze then narrows and his forehead creases. He reopens the tome in his hands and flips through its pages, looking for something. I watch him scan passage after passage, his lips moving slightly as he reads snippets of text. He grimaces with dissatisfaction at each unfruitful bid.
And then he suddenly freezes, his finger on a line of text. “Yesss!”
He shows me the passage, his excitement palpable.
“Here,” he says, “it mentions a family legend. The inspiration behind the de Bellays’ original motto was our founder knight’s fascination with weather vanes. To Fat Amalric, weather vaneswere more than mere wind indicators. They symbolized divine guidance through life’s ever-changing winds.”
I lean closer and my proverbial antennae twitch.
Henri continues, his voice animated, “Would it be a stretch to assume that Count Jean-Baptiste de Bellay was familiar with that legend?”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
