Page 81 of The Beautiful Ones

“Why did you save the trunk?”

“Because it belonged to you.”

Such a simple distinction. Le Champ des Fleurs had spent years making it impossible to see.

Dinah waited beyond the arbor with several servants. The little boy still rested upon her hip, half asleep despite the bells and fire. She had found a handcart for my trunk and two young men to pull it.

“Road’s clear,” she told me. “Most everyone’s gathered by the old chapel. We can reach the river town before dark if we keep moving.”

I looked back at Cécile.

The ivory carriage had drawn near. Nicholas and Octavia climbed inside while Adrian held the door. Cécile stood beside him, appearing more like the disheveled girl I loved than one of the beautiful creatures waiting to receive her.

I went to her.

“Come with us,” I said. “You need not decide the rest of your life today.”

“I am not.” Her mouth trembled. “Only t-today.”

I wanted to argue. Instead, I took her face between my hands as her mother had done that morning, but I did not turn it toward a flattering light.

“If they hurt you, leave them.”

“I will.”

“If they tell you that suffering is the price of becoming beautiful, do not believe them.”

“I know.”

“And if you need me—”

“I will f-find you.”

She embraced me. Her heart beat hard against mine, fast and human.

“Tell Lucien I am alive,” she whispered. “Tell him I chose.”

“Tell him yourself someday.”

“I will try.”

She stepped into the carriage.

Adrian followed, and the door closed. The driver gathered the pale reins without looking back. As the gray horses moved beneath the oaks, Cécile leaned from the open window and raised one hand.

Her eyes were still brown.

I lifted mine in answer.

The carriage passed through the gate and disappeared into the red morning without leaving a mark upon the road.

Behind me, Le Champ des Fleurs collapsed.

The sound rolled across the fields like distant cannon fire. When the smoke parted, the roof and upper floors were gone. Only the front steps remained between the two ruined columns, leading upward to a door that no longer existed.

Around the glasshouse, the white gardenias continued blooming.

Dinah put a hand upon my shoulder.