Page 102 of The Darkest Oath

“No,” she cried, grabbing his arms as Hugo’s shouts echoed from the stable. “I don’t want you to stay away, not now that I know you have loved me all these years. I have never stopped loving you. Even now, I know I am meant to be with you.”

“What can I offer you, Élise?” Rollant said with a glistening in his eyes and a slight shake of his head. “A cold bed alone at night? I am tied to the king. I will stay at the Temple in the barracks. I cannot risk coming here any more than I have done, not for my sake, but for yours.”

“What if France wins the war and the crown ends?” she asked. “Will you come back to me?”

Rollant pressed his forehead to hers. “I will, but what would I find? It could last a hundred years.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “Well, I refuse to let you go,” she said, hovering her lips over his. “Not after I have you again.”

He pressed against her. The familiar spark ignited in his kiss, but before it flamed, he pulled away and whispered with breath hot on her lips, “You’ll always have me.”

Hugo’s shouts grew closer, cutting short their time together. Rollant’s fingers slowly released her coat, letting them slide down the length until his hands swayed at his sides. If there was any doubt of his devotion, they were all but gone.

She cradled his face in her hands, her fingers slipping into his curly locks. “I fear if I am married, you will become mortal. I can’t?—”

Rollant smoothed his hand over hers and removed her touch as Hugo’s shouts tipped time out of their favor. “I will likely never become mortal, Élise,” he whispered. “Marry Hugo. He loves you. He is good to you, and in time, you will love him more than me.”

But Élise knew her heart, and the intimacy of her pain over the last three years sealed her decision. “No, Rollant, if I marry Hugo, I will spend the rest of my life in love with another man.”

“Not if you let me go,” he whispered.

“Élise—” Hugo’s shout stopped short of its full bellow. “Rollant?” he whispered, stepping forward as a new sense of urgency replaced the former.

Élise tore her gaze from Rollant’s as she turned around. “Yes, he found me in the city and brought me home,” she explained to Hugo, but tears choked her words and had already stained her face.

Hugo pulled her into an embrace. “I had packed a bag to come looking for you. I was so scared to lose you, Élise.” He kissed her on the cheek, near the mouth, before addressing Rollant.

A raw, jealous insecurity lived in Hugo’s gaze. “Thank you, Citizen Montvieux, for bringing her home.” His words were brittle.

Rollant nodded, his stoic nature superseding the warmth he held in his gaze just moments prior.

The silence between them stretched with unspoken words, suffocating the space, until Hugo’s hands dropped down her arms and slipped into her hands. “Why don’t you go let Giselle and Gabrielle know you are home? They are worried. Mama made stew, and you are freezing. I will be there in a moment.”

Élise nodded with her gaze down, unable to see the hurt in Hugo’s eyes. As Hugo pulled her into his arms, she felt the weight of the wooden ring on her finger—simple, honest, and binding. She had tried to love him. She might have wanted a life with him, the stability and security he offered, if she had never met Rollant. But every beat of her heart thudded for Rollant over the years, no matter how much she tried to silence it.

She walked the cobblestone path and peered over her shoulder. Rollant’s gaze briefly slipped to her while he conversed with Hugo.

It wasn’t fair to Hugo. And it wasn’t fair to herself. She knew now, with aching certainty, that there was only one man she could ever love—and when Rollant left again, she would wait for him to return, even if it meant waiting forever.

* * *

Hugo stoodon the step higher than Rollant, widening his stance with his hands on his hips. “National Guardsmen, now?” he asked, gesturing to Rollant’s blue coat.

Rollant smiled and nodded, remembering his navy man persona. “Yes, I realized the sea was not for me once the King could no longer fund my wage.”

Hugo nodded with exaggeration. He crossed his arms and stepped closer. “Do you plan to arrest us for not agreeing with the king’s execution?” Hugo asked, his tone half-joking but edged with tension.

Rollant shook his head, a faint, hollow smile tugging at his lips. “No, but don’t tell anyone that. These days, silence is the only thing that keeps us alive. Don’t enter the city again.”

“Understood,” Hugo gritted, his eyes searching for something else, his lip twitching as he debated what to say, what question to ask.

“About Élise,” he finally said.

Rollant expected it to come. His gaze drifted to her, and they locked eyes in the faint fog before she stepped inside. “Yes, ask your question, state your statement.”

Hugo shifted his weight. “I assume you saw her ring?”

“I did,” Rollant said. The words fell like stones between them. Guilt gnawed at him; he hadn’t respected Hugo or his ring. He had pulled her close and kissed her, knowing she wore it. But if she married Hugo, at least he would remember her not recoiling in fear, but offering love—a gift given once, and never taken back.

---