crossed a leg knee-high.
“After our surrender, Paris lives in a state of constant fear. Fear of
poverty. Fear of the monarchy resurrecting and seizing all control. Fear of
losing all liberty. Fear of another revolution … of Prussia invading our homes
and streets once more.” Tense silence hung in the air. “Dark times such as these
call for a certain measure of diplomacy, so to speak. You ought to make haste
to Versailles. I’ve no doubt you would win Thiers’s favor.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve no desire to
meet with him.”
“Even so, at least you would be safe—”
“I’ve even less of a desire to run away.”
“Then you are making a deadly mistake.”
Aleksender scoffed in disgust and shoved a handful of fingers through
his hairline. “What would you have me do? Flee to the palace like a damn
mongrel, tail tucked beneath my legs? I’ve already surrendered once,”
Aleksender spat, referring to the shameful defeat in Sedan—the battle that had
inevitably earned Prussia its overwhelming victory. “Mark my words. I refuse to
do so again.”
“Then your arrogance shall be your downfall.” Richard hesitated. “Look
at me, Aleksender.” Unblinking and unmoving, he leaned forward and locked
Aleksender’s gaze. “I am asking as your brother, as someone who cares for you
deeply. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you’re a sure pawn for these men.
You’ve held the title less than a month. They shall expect your protection.”
Richard hesitated, lowering his tone to a careful whisper. “And Father would
have never denied them such a thing. You know this better than myself .” Victim to an ominous undercurrent, his voice held a
slight tremble. Richard’s hands shook as he fisted the tablecloth between
strong fingers. “Lives are being threatened. Go to Versailles.” His next words
were recited with the gravity of a death sentence. “If not, you could be named
next.”
The meaning was explicit. A fierce chill overcame Aleksender.
“I’ll say nothing more on the matter.” Richard heaved a long sigh and
leaned back in his chair. “Stay here in Paris if you please. Lord knows—this
wretched town could use some tender care. Just this afternoon
I saw a child’s corpse laying in the gutter, thin as bones.” Aleksender
said nothing, at a total loss for words. “I do hope you come to your senses. In
the end, it’s your choice and yours alone. I only pray you choose wisely.”
“Damnable. Year of war, now this.” Then,
beneath a hushed breath, “This comes as no surprise.”
Richard’s eyes ignited. His voice contained a triumphant edge, almost
infantile in its glee. “Ah, but you are no longer so inferior nor unarmed. Can’t you see? You have the power to restore us.
You can clean our streets, regain our people’s trust. As comte—”
“And you are beginning to sound as mad and delusional as Christophe,”
Aleksender scoffed, waving him off. Richard’s sudden rush of excitement did
nothing for his amusement. Even so—according to this Commune, his “loyal
people” desired his head on a pike. Certainly not his
guidance or interference.
“Well, I must thank you, then. I’ve always fancied Monsieur Cleef. A fine gentleman and soldier, if I may say so.”
“Well. I advise that you not get too attached,” Aleksender dryly said.
He leaned back in the chair, stretching his strong limbs with a feline’s grace.
“Between his outrageous schemes and wagging tongue, the fool is bound to get
himself killed. Perhaps worse.”
“Yes. Though, his intentions are as honest as they come.” Aleksender
gave a look. Richard shrugged, defeated. “I suppose his methods are a bit … err , unorthodox.”
“To put it mildly.”
“Good to see you haven’t abandoned that terrible sense of humor of
yours. Paris would have been quite lost without it.”
Aleksender betrayed himself and surrendered to a small chuckle.
A considerable silence pressed between the two of them.
“How is
“After our surrender, Paris lives in a state of constant fear. Fear of
poverty. Fear of the monarchy resurrecting and seizing all control. Fear of
losing all liberty. Fear of another revolution … of Prussia invading our homes
and streets once more.” Tense silence hung in the air. “Dark times such as these
call for a certain measure of diplomacy, so to speak. You ought to make haste
to Versailles. I’ve no doubt you would win Thiers’s favor.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve no desire to
meet with him.”
“Even so, at least you would be safe—”
“I’ve even less of a desire to run away.”
“Then you are making a deadly mistake.”
Aleksender scoffed in disgust and shoved a handful of fingers through
his hairline. “What would you have me do? Flee to the palace like a damn
mongrel, tail tucked beneath my legs? I’ve already surrendered once,”
Aleksender spat, referring to the shameful defeat in Sedan—the battle that had
inevitably earned Prussia its overwhelming victory. “Mark my words. I refuse to
do so again.”
“Then your arrogance shall be your downfall.” Richard hesitated. “Look
at me, Aleksender.” Unblinking and unmoving, he leaned forward and locked
Aleksender’s gaze. “I am asking as your brother, as someone who cares for you
deeply. Whether you wish to admit it or not, you’re a sure pawn for these men.
You’ve held the title less than a month. They shall expect your protection.”
Richard hesitated, lowering his tone to a careful whisper. “And Father would
have never denied them such a thing. You know this better than myself .” Victim to an ominous undercurrent, his voice held a
slight tremble. Richard’s hands shook as he fisted the tablecloth between
strong fingers. “Lives are being threatened. Go to Versailles.” His next words
were recited with the gravity of a death sentence. “If not, you could be named
next.”
The meaning was explicit. A fierce chill overcame Aleksender.
“I’ll say nothing more on the matter.” Richard heaved a long sigh and
leaned back in his chair. “Stay here in Paris if you please. Lord knows—this
wretched town could use some tender care. Just this afternoon
I saw a child’s corpse laying in the gutter, thin as bones.” Aleksender
said nothing, at a total loss for words. “I do hope you come to your senses. In
the end, it’s your choice and yours alone. I only pray you choose wisely.”
“Damnable. Year of war, now this.” Then,
beneath a hushed breath, “This comes as no surprise.”
Richard’s eyes ignited. His voice contained a triumphant edge, almost
infantile in its glee. “Ah, but you are no longer so inferior nor unarmed. Can’t you see? You have the power to restore us.
You can clean our streets, regain our people’s trust. As comte—”
“And you are beginning to sound as mad and delusional as Christophe,”
Aleksender scoffed, waving him off. Richard’s sudden rush of excitement did
nothing for his amusement. Even so—according to this Commune, his “loyal
people” desired his head on a pike. Certainly not his
guidance or interference.
“Well, I must thank you, then. I’ve always fancied Monsieur Cleef. A fine gentleman and soldier, if I may say so.”
“Well. I advise that you not get too attached,” Aleksender dryly said.
He leaned back in the chair, stretching his strong limbs with a feline’s grace.
“Between his outrageous schemes and wagging tongue, the fool is bound to get
himself killed. Perhaps worse.”
“Yes. Though, his intentions are as honest as they come.” Aleksender
gave a look. Richard shrugged, defeated. “I suppose his methods are a bit … err , unorthodox.”
“To put it mildly.”
“Good to see you haven’t abandoned that terrible sense of humor of
yours. Paris would have been quite lost without it.”
Aleksender betrayed himself and surrendered to a small chuckle.
A considerable silence pressed between the two of them.
“How is
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