They’d left Henri and Nicolette behind. Climbed into the carriage, knowing Paris had fallen ever further into violent chaos, and left her brother and best friend behind.
And the streets they were passing through were growing louder.
Nicolette had shared everything she knew about the locations and nature of the uprisings so they could avoid those parts of Paris. But so much could change in a city under siege. Mobs were mobile and unpredictable.
Beside Céleste, Aldric alternated between watching out the carriage window and studying the map on his lap. He now and then tapped on the ceiling of the carriage. The driver tapped the roof in response. The number of taps varied. After a back-and-forth, the carriage often turned, going down a different street.
It wasn’t difficult to sort out what was happening. Aldric was communicating with the driver as they navigated the dangerous streets even though he couldn’t see what the driver could and neither man could talk to each other.It was complex and well thought-out, a strategic accomplishment worthy of one known as the General.
Yet he’d hardly even tried to convince Henri and Nicolette not to remain behind in a place where their lives were in danger.
“Where are we going?” Adèle asked in worried tones, though to whom the question was directed wasn’t clear.
“We’re going to Fleur-de-la-Forêt,” Céleste said in the cheeriest voice she could manage.
Adèle only looked more confused. “Why are we not staying in Paris?”
“Because we thought it would be lovely to go back to the countryside for a time.” It wasn’t a lie, though it wasn’t the entirety of the story either. A five-year-old didn’t need to know they were fleeing danger brought on by her father’s foolishness and the violent anger of her countrymen.
“Is Mama coming?” Adèle asked.
“Your mama and papa will stay in Paris a little longer,” Céleste said.
The girl watched her with brows drawn. Hers wasn’t a look of disbelief but rather one of bafflement. How could Céleste explain to the child that her parents had chosen not to stay with her? She didn’t want Adèle to feel unwanted or discarded, a feeling she herself was far too familiar with.
“What do you like to do when you are at Fleur-de-la-Forêt, Adèle?” Julia asked in the very soothing tones of a mother.
Adèle thought a moment. A bit of color touched her cheeks. “I like flowers.”
“Oh,” Lucas said in excited tones. “I love flowers. Which is your favorite?”
Adèle was immediately focused on the topic. She didn’t know the names of very many flowers, but she described them, mostly in colors and the sweetness of their perfume. And through it all, Lucas and Julia listened intensely, keeping Adèle distracted and amused.
Céleste wasn’t certain she could have managed it. For reasons she struggled to comprehend, Adèle kept Céleste a bit at arm’s length. She didn’t think she’d ever done anything to dissuade the girl from feeling warmly connected to her. Adèle trusted her enough to ask about her parents’ whereabouts, which was something. A minute something, but it was all she really had.
A particularly jarring turn of the carriage sent them all sliding on their seats. Céleste was thrown against Aldric. He snatched hold of her, preventingher from being tossed about further. Julia held Adèle in a protective embrace, with Lucas assuming much the same posture Aldric was.
A rhythmic rapping on the roof was answered by two quick knocks from Aldric in the very moment his gaze focused once more on the map on his lap. A moment later, he pulled his arm away from Céleste and knocked on the roof again.
The carriage turned, then turned again.
Céleste kept her attention on him, wanting to trust that everything would be well in the end but struggling to believe it. He must have felt her gaze on him; he looked up from his map.
“Wewillget out of Paris,” he said quietly but firmly.
“I made a promise that Adèle would be safe,” she whispered in response.
“I made the same promise, but about you.” He looked back at his map. “I’ve never broken a promise to Henri. I won’t start now.”
Henri was staying in this city they were trying so hard to get out of. He and Nicolette were in danger.
And we just left them.
In a light and airy voice, Lucas asked Adèle, “If you could have either a blue flower or a purple one, which would you choose?” That offered the little girl a much-needed distraction.
Céleste had no such reprieve. Indeed, in the very next moment the smell of smoke wafted inside, accompanied by angry voices not as far distant as she would have preferred. On the carriage rolled, veering down streets that were growing more unfamiliar. Throughout it all, Aldric consulted his map and conversed with the driver through knocks.
We left them.
