A tall woman, quite slim in build, with long wavy blond hair and sapphire eyes, was wearing a long pastel blue dress.

She had just left the small cottage of her small village, which was located in Arras, this small cottage was at the edge of the sea, on the hill.

On this same hill, was the grave of her late beloved André Grandier.

Not being married and pregnant, she had decided to bear his name.

A small, slender, four-year-old girl with long ebony curls and emerald eyes held his hand.

Oscar Grandier had decided to take his daughter Antoinette to grow up in the old house where she had lived as a child, the Jarjayes manor.

The manor had been abandoned during the revolution by his family, and pillaged and ransacked by the sans-culottes.

Oscar pushed open the large oak door.

She entered the large manor, followed closely by her daughter.

With a sad look, and full of nostalgia, she caressed the sleep.

She remembered every place, every part of this place.

She stopped in front of the big staircase.

It was here at the foot of this staircase that she had met André Grandier, the father of her daughter.

She remembered that she had terrified him at first.

And that he had hidden under the skirts of her grandmother.

Little by little, she climbed the steps of the big staircase in colimason. She stopped on one of them.

On one of the steps, there was a small object, which she recognized between thousand, an object which had belonged to André.

She gently put her hand on the object, caressing it.

It was a small carved wooden horse.

Tears came to her eyes.

She held the horse close to her heart.

And began to hum a song.

Antoinette looked at her mother, surprised.

Why was she holding this object, and why was she singing?

Her mother let go of her hand, and she saw her walk up the stairs, reach the top, and walk over to a large door and open it.

Antoinette looked at the room in wonder.

Despite the ravages of the revolution, this room was still very beautiful.

This room was none other than a large ballroom.

At the foot of her mother, was a small staircase that led you to the dance floor.

Oscar stepped forward, with his two arms tightened his body.

One by one she descended the steps of the small staircase.

And suddenly all her past crossed her mind.

On one of the pictures on the wall of this room, the ghost of a young soldier appeared, his hair as black as jet, his eyes emerald. He was tall and slender.

André Grandier.

Oscar went down the few steps that separated her from the dance floor and the ghost of André Grandier.

André Grandier had tears in his eyes, his eyes shining with a thousand lights.

He advanced towards her, with a calm and assured step.

As if by magic Antoinette saw, Oscar who turned on herself, and so the simple pastel blue dress, was transformed into a beautiful white and silver dress.

On her long blonde hair appeared a silver tiara with small sapphire and emerald.

Antoinette could not detach her eyes from this fairy tale spectacle, which was unfolding before her.

It was simply magical.

Oscar contemplated himself from head to toe, not returning.

She put her hand to her mouth when Andrew curtsied and took her hand.

She was so happy to see him again, and she felt like crying.

It was too good to be true!

And yet when his fingers touched hers, it was real.

Andre gently put his hand on Oscar's waist, with the other he took her hand, brought her closer to him, and began a little dance.

Antoinette could not take her eyes off the scene.

It was so...

There were no words.

To see her mother dancing, in the arms of this man.

She looked so happy. She had never seen her little mom so happy.

She was crying and smiling with joy.

She only had god for the young soldier.

André Grandier turned his attention to the little being who was watching them.

And as if by magic, the little girl found herself caught in a whirlwind.

She found herself dressed in a long and silky dress of a magnificent emerald like her eyes, her long ebony curls were tied in two braids by two ribbons of the same color.

At this precise moment, she looked like a doll.

Antoinette contemplated her outfit.

She could not believe her eyes.

Her eyes shone with wonder at the beauty and richness.

André approached the little girl, squatted at her height, and put his hand to her ebony tresses which he kept in his hand.

Antoinette blushed.

She was not used to someone looking at her so closely.

- Andre! That's your little girl! Oscar looked at the two people they loved the most with a gentle, loving gaze. She is our child! Antoinette Grandier!

That face, the fine, delicate features of her face, that ivory complexion, so similar to her mother's as a child.

But Antoinette had inherited the color of his eyes and his hair.

He could not believe it!

This shy little being, who was blushing, was none other than his little girl!

Could it be that this little angel was really his child?

But the more he looked at her, the more he could not doubt.

This child was really his.

Antoinette hesitantly moved her fingers to his face, stopped and after a moment's hesitation touched him.

André's heart overflowed with pride at seeing his little girl.

But most of all, he hated that life had taken away this hope of happiness.

He was gone too soon.

Just enough time to love his mother and death had taken him away.

Oscar had left everything for him, a simple commoner.

She had left everything, her family, her rank, her life, her career.

He didn't even have time to marry her. He had hardly loved her when he died the next day, shot through the heart.

But Oscar had given birth to this beautiful little girl and Oscar bore her name.

Yes, Antoinette was his little girl.

He knew that Oscar was a gentle and loving mother.

That despite her bad temper, she had to give all her love to her daughter. And that was the only thing that mattered to him.

Little Antoinette was intimidated by this man, this man who was none other than her own father.

She had never seen him, never known him.

And so she did not know how to behave, but her heart was overflowing with joy.

Andre Grandier opened his arms wide, bowing his head.

Antoinette looked at her mother.

Oscar nodded, letting her know that she could.

- It's your dad! Don't hesitate!

Then the little girl let her joy overflow.

Laughing out loud, she threw herself into her father's arms, who hugged her gently.

- Daddy!

Andrew made his little girl jump and twirl in the air.

His wonderful little girl.

He gently lowered her, kissing her cheek tenderly.

But his eyes became clouded with sadness.

He didn't have much time left, he had to go back.

His heart tightened.

He kissed tenderly the forehead of Antoinette, who sobbed.

The little girl understood that her father was going to leave, because little by little André's body was beginning to fade.

He put his hand on the chest where his heart was.

- I will always be here! I am a part of you!

Andre got up and walked over to Oscar.

The sapphire of his eyes was bathed in tears.

She threw herself into his arms, clinging to him desperately.

- Stay, don't go! Her voice broke. You've already left me once! I don't want to lose you a second time!

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, looking into the sapphire of her eyes.

He brought his hand to her eyes, trying with his fingertips the tears that were escaping,

Gently, he touched her lips for a final kiss.

It was a long, sweet kiss.

But a goodbye kiss.

With sadness, he moved away from her lips, smiling sadly.

He took her hand and held it until her whole body had evaporated.

- Forever you are my rose, the one that can be white like innocence and the one that can be red like passion!