my feet.
“It is not safe here for you anymore, J. I strongly recommend that you return to your country estate, and I have another request,” he said. I could no longer deny him the moon, if he asked for it, seeing what had happened to Giselle. I waited patiently for his question.
“Take Jacqueline with you. Your father has a grand estate that is far enough from Paris and the feud. I think you would both be safer and happier with each other.”
“There is no question,” I agreed, fervently. “I am entirely at your service, and would be happy to provide for her in any way I can. It is the very least I can do.” His expression changed as his eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You are different,” he said, wonderingly. “Not just from this. I can see a change in you since we last met.”
“You made me promise, did you not?” I asked gently, grateful for his approval. He gave me a small smile that barely reached his eyes.
“Yes, indeed I did. Though I hope that you change for yourself, and not simply to please me.”
“At first that was not the case, though I find with time I enjoy becoming an enriched and educated person. It has indeed changed my life for the better.”
He hesitated before asking, “And have your studies changed your opinion on the matter of marriage between the classes?”
I said nothing. Of course I had thought about it. Seeing the world from a new pair of eyes, eyes that had continuously sought the horizon for this man for months at a time, had indeed changed my perspective on the matter.
“I don’t believe classes will exist for very much longer anyway, if this revolution has anything to say about it,” I said, grasping his hands in mine, my true answer in my eyes. Too somber to celebrate, Bastien simply sat by my side and wrapped me in his arms, where I was finally allowed to melt into him and feel safe.
“I will always keep you safe, J. Once all this is over, I would give anything for you to be my wife.”
I sighed, knowing that that could be a long, long way away.
“Then you’d better keep fighting soldier, so that you can come home all the sooner.”
“I’ll always come back for you, J. Still, now that I know you are both safe and well, I will have to go straight back to Paris, tonight most likely.”
I wanted to cry again, but I didn’t want to burden him more with my distress. He was already carrying all three of our woes on his shoulders, and I refused to pile on more.
“I will be brave and wait for you then,” I said stoutly, and he finally pulled back from our embrace to delicately kiss me one last time. Absently, I thought about how I must look, and even worse, smell. I may have become a bit more enlightened, but I still cringed at the thought that the first man I ever loved would see me in such a state. I pushed the thought back as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand cradling my neck.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing my forehead fiercely and then briskly exiting the room, not giving me the chance to say it back. I wondered at the sensation of love—the dull ache and maddening butterflies vying for my attention all at once. It mixed poorly with the distress and anxiety that tore me apart, and I tried to calm myself with the only truth I could hold onto.
That I loved him, too. More than I could possibly know.
Chapter Seven
And the Lights Go Out
Jacqueline and I spent our days in my favorite sitting room, which was a pale yellow, trimmed in white. Fresh daisies were replaced daily in our delicate family vases. My father was very surprised when I told him that we wanted to be updated on everything happening in Paris, though he seemed pleased. The pressure to get married to a high society man was diminished in the fear for our lives and our station. Winter passed by cold and empty, our only solace the occasional letters from Bastien, which had become my air in a suffocated, gilded prison.
He wrote to Jacqueline about the riots and the poor
“It is not safe here for you anymore, J. I strongly recommend that you return to your country estate, and I have another request,” he said. I could no longer deny him the moon, if he asked for it, seeing what had happened to Giselle. I waited patiently for his question.
“Take Jacqueline with you. Your father has a grand estate that is far enough from Paris and the feud. I think you would both be safer and happier with each other.”
“There is no question,” I agreed, fervently. “I am entirely at your service, and would be happy to provide for her in any way I can. It is the very least I can do.” His expression changed as his eyebrows rose in surprise.
“You are different,” he said, wonderingly. “Not just from this. I can see a change in you since we last met.”
“You made me promise, did you not?” I asked gently, grateful for his approval. He gave me a small smile that barely reached his eyes.
“Yes, indeed I did. Though I hope that you change for yourself, and not simply to please me.”
“At first that was not the case, though I find with time I enjoy becoming an enriched and educated person. It has indeed changed my life for the better.”
He hesitated before asking, “And have your studies changed your opinion on the matter of marriage between the classes?”
I said nothing. Of course I had thought about it. Seeing the world from a new pair of eyes, eyes that had continuously sought the horizon for this man for months at a time, had indeed changed my perspective on the matter.
“I don’t believe classes will exist for very much longer anyway, if this revolution has anything to say about it,” I said, grasping his hands in mine, my true answer in my eyes. Too somber to celebrate, Bastien simply sat by my side and wrapped me in his arms, where I was finally allowed to melt into him and feel safe.
“I will always keep you safe, J. Once all this is over, I would give anything for you to be my wife.”
I sighed, knowing that that could be a long, long way away.
“Then you’d better keep fighting soldier, so that you can come home all the sooner.”
“I’ll always come back for you, J. Still, now that I know you are both safe and well, I will have to go straight back to Paris, tonight most likely.”
I wanted to cry again, but I didn’t want to burden him more with my distress. He was already carrying all three of our woes on his shoulders, and I refused to pile on more.
“I will be brave and wait for you then,” I said stoutly, and he finally pulled back from our embrace to delicately kiss me one last time. Absently, I thought about how I must look, and even worse, smell. I may have become a bit more enlightened, but I still cringed at the thought that the first man I ever loved would see me in such a state. I pushed the thought back as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand cradling my neck.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing my forehead fiercely and then briskly exiting the room, not giving me the chance to say it back. I wondered at the sensation of love—the dull ache and maddening butterflies vying for my attention all at once. It mixed poorly with the distress and anxiety that tore me apart, and I tried to calm myself with the only truth I could hold onto.
That I loved him, too. More than I could possibly know.
Chapter Seven
And the Lights Go Out
Jacqueline and I spent our days in my favorite sitting room, which was a pale yellow, trimmed in white. Fresh daisies were replaced daily in our delicate family vases. My father was very surprised when I told him that we wanted to be updated on everything happening in Paris, though he seemed pleased. The pressure to get married to a high society man was diminished in the fear for our lives and our station. Winter passed by cold and empty, our only solace the occasional letters from Bastien, which had become my air in a suffocated, gilded prison.
He wrote to Jacqueline about the riots and the poor
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