Page 59 of The Darkest Oath

Jacq chuckled, shaking his head and studying Rollant’s face. “The resemblance is uncanny, though. Same eyes, same chin. I suppose good deeds and strong features run in the family.”

Jacq remembered a man who never existed, an illusion crafted by Rollant to account for his unchanging face and decades of guardianship. To the people of Charonne, he was a legacy—a dutiful son who continued his father’s work before him. They didn’t see the truth: there was no father, no passing of the torch. There was only him, pretending to belong to a mortal world that would never be his.

Rollant cleared his throat. “A family trait, I suppose.” His tone was careful. He patted Jacq’s shoulder as he passed over the home’s threshold.

Jacq leaned in and whispered, “I do apologize for Camille. I asked her not to say anything, and I hope she hasn’t ruined the introduction.”

“No need for apologies. I’m sure she wants to see her son happy. Not too many young women here, I suppose.”

“No, not many, and she refuses to let him go to the city. Too expensive and too much turmoil there.”

“Yes, I agree with her on that. Don’t let your son go to the city for his safety.”

Rollant ended the conversation and closed the door behind Jacq. The bar lowered into place. He took a deep breath before spinning around and finding Élise with her arms crossed.

“What was that?” she asked.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and hid it with a shrug. “What?”

“Did you bring them here to have that poor woman showcase her son as a suitor?”

That was exactly what he had done, but he shook his head. “He gave us double the mint and sage I had asked for, Élise. I asked them over to thank them and to introduce you to their family and the community’s herbalist. His mother had another agenda, it appeared.”

She stepped closer, her eyes blazing. “You let her build up hope for her son. You didn’t say anything. You almost pushed me into his arms.”

“I will be leaving in a few days. It is better if I do not let my feelings for you complicate whatever life you have ahead of yourself. You should not see me as anything other than a helping hand. But Hugo, he will be here. He is your age.”

“And you are not?”

“I’m almost seven years older than you.”

Her arms fell to fists by her sides. “Do you think I’m not mature enough? Or is it that you’ve already decided my life for me? That I’m better off with someone like Hugo because you’re too afraid of what we could be?”

“No, Élise, that’s not?—”

“You want me to believe this is about what’s best for me, but it’s not.” She crossed her arms, her chin lifting in defiance. “It’s about your poor decision to follow a king that cares nothing for anyone.”

Rollant flinched, her words cutting deeper than he thought possible.

She continued, unrelenting. “I’m not broken, Rollant. I’m not some fragile piece of glass you can protect by walking away. I want you in my life, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“Élise, stop.” His stomach turned. “You only care for me because I have cared for you. Did Hugo not show you the same care I have shown you? He is a kind, good man, better than I am. He is innocent and doesn’t have blood on his hands. He heals the sick, and I kill the hardy. A man like him would never leave you. He would make his oaths wisely.”

Tears brimmed her eyes. He regretted speaking the last statement. He rubbed his mouth and dropped his gaze, unable to see the pain he’d caused with his words.

“I am only saying there are other good men, Élise.” He found her gaze. “Men you can have a happy life with, should you choose to want a life with one.”

She spun around and marched across the main room. After she entered the bedroom, she yelled, “I want you to stay, Rollant! Is that clear enough for you?” before slamming the door.

“I want to stay as well,” he murmured, rolling his sleeves to finish washing the dishes. “But it cannot be.”

CHAPTER22

The Will to Leave

CHARONNE, PARIS, FEBRUARY 1789

The pale morningsunlight cast a golden glow over the room. Dust motes danced in the beams, and the faint scent of smoke from the hearth lingered, mingling with the earthy aroma of mint from the main room. Élise’s smile widened as she stretched in bed, her body still aching from the quiet pleasure of tending to the garden while the sun warmed her winter-chilled skin the day before. She hummed with the satisfaction of accomplishment.

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