Author's Note: HOLY SHIT I finally got this chapter out! So how are you people after the last one? I just noticed now too that I posted that last update on the fourth of June, the same day I posted this story on this site back in 2017. Time sure goes fast. I hope y'all are holding up well during these times too. Second year of college has been hectic thus far so I'm really glad I finally got a break to finish this chapter, phew.

( thirty-six )

THE HIEROPHANT

It was nine in the morning again and this time, Laurine was the one who decided to do the waiting.

She sat in the outer shed of Café de L'Opera, making sure that she could easily be seen at a first glance towards the cafe. As new customers continued to fill the place, Laurine contently sipped her cup of tea, the scent of chamomile making her release a deep sigh as the smell wafted to her nostrils. The low chatter of morning gossip and waiters taking notes of orders created a soothing hum around her, and it helped to keep her patient while she let herself enjoy the rare solitary morning that she had all to herself. At least, for the moment.

She knew the moment would soon be broken once her expected... visitor arrived. Laurine tried not to think of the impending likelihood as a disappointment, however ― there were far more important matters at hand besides having the start of the day all to herself, after all. Taking another sip from her tea, Laurine's blue, calculating eyes kept scanning through the Parisians of upper class that continued to enter the café. Almost lazily, she let them all slip through her gaze without much thought or inspection (she was confident enough that no one suspicious had followed her to her destination anyway), but she regained her vigilance when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a blonde woman seemingly making a beeline for her table.

Laurine narrowed her eyes, stare piercing through the netted veil that hung from the woman's hat that cleverly hid her features, and she refused to relent even when the stranger boldly pulled away the chair opposite Laurine before she sat down with a palpable air of grace. A demure smile crossed the woman's red-coated lips, and it was not until she spoke that Laurine finally recognized who the woman was.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," came the low, husky tones of Nathalie's voice as she kept smiling at Laurine.

A grin tugged at Laurine's mouth. "I barely recognized you is all. Color me impressed."

And truly, Laurine couldn't help but admire Jovan's forethought into slipping into a successful disguise for their meeting. But that wasn't something she could dwell on right now despite how much she wanted to probe about Jovan's appearance. She took another sip of her tea before saying, "I hope you've had breakfast though because we are now leaving."

The small trace of panic that hardened Jovan's features did not go amiss. "Where are we going, Laurine?" she asked as the blonde stood from her seat and proceeded to plant a quick kiss on Jovan's cheek while a broad smile shaped her lips ― all an act to any wandering eyes.

Laurine took note to reassure her niece with her next words. "To the cemetery, of course."

Jovan almost scoffed when she and Laurine arrived at their destination.

They walked past the towering iron gates of the cemetery as Jovan drank in the morose scenery around her, the solitary angels and gray sculptures guarding over tombs and graves. "Only people you can trust not to eavesdrop are the dead," Laurine mused as they walked side by side.

"I see that now," came Jovan's weak reply, but it made perfect sense nevertheless. The cemetery was deathly quiet, no pun intended, that even the sounds of their footfalls on the finely powdered snow was almost audible; it would make it easy for either of them to know if anyone was nearby to spy on them.

"I know you doubted me for a moment back there," her aunt said, her amiable smile replaced with a somber expression.

"You can't blame me," was Jovan's swift and honest reply.

"I'm aware, Nathalie. But enough of that ― I still have tea at three with the Marchioness de Rosier. Do you remember her?"

Jovan paused. Now she definitely wasn't expecting that question. What was Laurine getting at? She could not deny, however, that the name was definitely familiar. She combed through all the names her mother once asked her to remember as a young girl, as was expected from an heiress who would soon have to acquaint herself with other distinguished names in high society.

Jovan scrunched her nose. "Do you mean... Fleur de Rosier?"

Her answer earned a small grin from Laurine. "I see you still remember the nobility. Good. As comtesse, when you return to Paris, you'll have to reacquaint yourself with your parents' old friends and then some. It's nice to know you won't have to start from scratch. Speaking of, have you thought of the reason as to why you returned now from your travels of all times, after four years?"

Laurine almost spoke at a breakneck pace that Jovan took her time to process what her aunt had said and what was being asked of her. Old friends and then some... "Is there someone who recently died, perhaps?"

A shake of the blonde's head. "No one of importance, or anyone that you should be associating with in the first place."

As their feet led them deeper into the cemetery, Jovan couldn't help but pull at her hair internally. This was the same problem she had been agonizing over ever since she woke up yesterday. Yet she just could not find a single excuse satisfactory enough to justify her sudden return to Paris after vanishing for years without a trace. But perhaps all she needed was a second opinion.

Jovan brought up one of the first excuses that she thought of yesterday. "What about because I heard the news about Remi being patron to the Opéra Populaire? The same place my father was once a part of?"

"Hm." Laurine seemed to give it some thought. "That may suffice."

Jovan shook her head, unsatisfied. "Not enough for the company's board of directors though, is it?" Ever since moving out of the Opéra Populaire and into the Harpy's Haven, there was not much left for her to do except to wait and think. It was only recently then that Jovan truly realized who she had to convince once she returned to being Comtesse Sauveterre. Not only did she have to persuade every other Parisian who paid attention to the rumor mill or the upper class who would surely be intrigued with her comeback, but there was also the board of directors that mainly presided over her father's company.

"Frankly, I don't know," came Laurine's unsure reply, doing nothing to ease Jovan's nerves. "But here's what I do know ― there are talks about expanding the trading route. I believe it may be something that can be used to your advantage."

Jovan arched a brow at Laurine, understanding what her aunt was implying. "Because I'm someone who's allegedly been country-hopping?"

A smug smile crossed Laurine's red lips as she answered, "As Rémi told them, yes."

At her aunt's words, Jovan herself couldn't help the smirk that placed itself on her mouth. True, Rémi had supplied a sufficient and fathomable motive behind Jovan's disappearance without her permission, but now it brought Jovan a sense of satisfaction in knowing that even that could be used to her advantage. "I supposed it's time to study up on some geography then," she remarked. Every cloud had its silver lining, indeed.

"Among other things, yes." Jovan and Laurine then took a turn past a lofty black statue of an angel, its head bowed mournfully in prayer. From the corner of Jovan's eye, she noticed a wilting bouquet of white daisies and pink carnations on a grave.

"Laurine, what exactly do they think of me back at the company?" she then asked, half-afraid of what answers she might receive. As a stagehand at the Opéra Populaire, Jovan never particularly cared for what the rest of the staff thought of her. Back in Paris' upper class, however, a good or bad reputation could mean a world of difference.

"Honestly? That you ran away to escape your responsibilities as the owner of the company," Laurine provided without missing a beat, and Jovan tried not to wince too hard at the words she was hearing. "For some time now, some of the board members have been clamoring to transfer ownership of the company to Remi. Even Baron Isadore simply wants to have you presumed dead―"

"Dead?" Jovan's mouth dropped, the telltale signs of dread making her stomach roll. What in God's name?

But Laurine only kept a deadpan expression as she stared at Jovan. "Yes, Nathalie. Dead. You haven't exactly been sending us letters to indicate that you're still alive, after all."

Jovan pinched her nose, closing her eyes for a brief moment of consideration. Then in a quiet voice, "Is that all?"

"No," Laurine answered coolly, and Jovan just had to wonder how in the world was Laurine seemingly unfazed with everything she was sharing with Jovan, as if she were merely exchanging gossip about the newest trends about hats and Parisian silk.

But then again, wasn't this how women of their class were expected to act? Jovan found herself frowning at the realization, not exactly exhilarated at the thought of putting up what seemed to her was a shallow and coy facade, something that Laurine excelled at doing at herself. Nevertheless, Jovan started taking down notes in her head, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

Laurine's next words caught Jovan off guard once more. "You should be grateful that your godfather refuses to let the pigheaded men in the board have their way with what is, by right and law, your company."

"Lord Martelle?" The name instantly fell from Jovan's lips. One of the very few noblemen that she actually gave a damn about ― and for good reason ― Lord Isaac Martelle was a face that she had yet to forget, especially when said lord had been a dear friend of her father's, a relationship that had led to the two becoming business partners, as her father had nicely summed it up when she was a young girl.

"Yes. He holds fifteen percent of the shares, after all, and the rest of the board settle down after they're reminded of the fact," said Laurine.

At that, Jovan stopped walking. Her aunt only noticed after she was a step ahead that the redhead had halted.

"Nathalie, what's the matter?"

As if Jovan's thoughts weren't in enough disarray, Laurine using her real name threw her off orbit once more. Nathalie, Nathalie, Nathalie―

"I... It's just ― the board, Laurine." Jovan evidently struggled with her words as she attempted to organize the havoc in her head, brought on about the onslaught of new information that Laurine was giving her, information that was not exactly pretty, to put it mildly. "You say they see me as irresponsible."

"I did, yes," answered Laurine as she returned to Jovan's side.

Jovan was not sure why but there was the smallest prick of tears in the corner of her eyes at the thought. Her? Irresponsible? After she had only run away for her life, her sanity, and whatever dignity she had left?

"Laurine, I mean―" Jovan stammered, "I mean, w-will they really sit well with me once I return?"

Stupid question, Jovan then inwardly scolded herself the second the question came out. Of course the answer was no. So why in God's name was she still seeking for the smallest of hopes that Laurine would say yes?

She felt pathetic, and suddenly very, very small.

"Not all of them, I'm sure. But that's why you need to impress them at once when you return," was Laurine's calm reply as she stared hard at her niece, as if to tell Jovan to keep it together.

Jovan was only a split-second away from crying in frustration before she was able to stop herself. Calm down.

"What of Rémi then?" Jovan asked in a quieter voice. "How has he been managing the company?"

"I'd say he can be doing better, given that in the years that have passed, a rival trading company has managed to gain equal footing with us."

"Who?"

"The de Chagny's."

Jovan blinked. "I don't know them." They resumed walking.

"I'll be honest with you, Nathalie ― you can't expect everyone to immediately follow your commands when you return, company owner or not," came Laurine's reply, words that made Jovan grit her teeth.

"I'm not a fool, Laurine. Of course I don't expect that!" came the short burst of irate words from Jovan's lips. Her breathing quickened, and it was after a moment of clarity and seeing Laurine's stern gaze at her that Jovan let out a deep sigh. "I never expected that even if all of this didn't happen," she finished in a resigned tone.

"If you want to earn their approval faster though, might I make a suggestion?" As usual, an air of calm accompanied Laurine's words. Jovan tried to shake away the irritation that was beginning to cling beneath her skin. Just how did this woman manage to stay so cool and collected?

"What?"

"Marriage. Preferably to one of the board's sons."

Jovan merely stared at her aunt for a good moment before a bark of laughter left her mouth.

Marriage? Good Lord. In hindsight, the suggestion should have barely shocked Jovan, and it didn't, but the very idea still seemed plain ridiculous to her. Marriage? Jovan's body continued to shake as she laughed, bending over as she instinctively recalled swearing off marriage back when she first arrived at the Opéra Populaire, stubborn in her belief that no one would ever love or let alone desire her after everything she had been through, that finding a lover for herself was now beyond impossible after she had fallen so far from grace that she couldn't even bear her own reflection on some days―

"Nathalie." Laurine's voice then broke her train of thought and Jovan suddenly felt the lack of air in her body.

"Laurine..." Jovan gasped out as she recovered from her laughing fit, straightening up as her eyes locked into the distance. The next words that slipped from her lips were eerily cool. "Is this why Remi wants me back so badly? Why you yourself are so eager to support my comeback?"

A beat passed before Laurine could answer, and Jovan quietly mused if it was the sudden quiet in her own voice that caught Laurine off guard. "I think we both know why Remi wants you back. As for myself, no."

"No? Are you sure about that?" Jovan's tone remained dead calm as she refused to look at Laurine.

"Are you doubting me, Nathalie?"

"I never stopped."

At that, Jovan snapped her stare back to Laurine, and the blonde's lips parted in a small expression of surprise.

"It's not going to be that easy, Laurine," Jovan tried not to scoff as she gave a shake of her head. "I wouldn't even be here, talking to you, if I had another choice. You're simply the last and only resort ― and I'm merely taking a leap of faith."

"That's an unusual word for you to use. Faith."

"Well, times change. I ought to keep up if I want to survive," Jovan replied before continuing to walk. Laurine followed suit and they resumed their stroll around the cemetery side by side.

"That is true," Laurine answered. "I dare say the same even goes for me."

At that reply, Jovan couldn't help but arch a brow at her aunt. "What ever do you mean now?"

"I'm much more... aware of many things now, Nathalie. And one of them includes the fact that my husband is no longer the man I once loved."

Jovan suppressed the bitter smile that threatened to curve her lips as she bowed her head. "Took you long enough," she simply commented before clearing her throat.

Laurine seemed to take her comment in stride as she gave a small but sad laugh in response. "What can I say? All the songs and the poems were right ― love does make you blind. It blinded me for so many years into thinking that Rémi still loved me when he stopped doing so a long time ago. Perhaps I never had a place in his heart even. Or, if I did, it was nowhere near where Mila or you were."

"He's a monster," were the words that left Jovan's mouth without her permission. Yet Jovan didn't care anyway.

Laurine was silent for a moment. "...He is, I'm afraid."

Jovan bit the inside of her cheek as she listened to Laurine. "He's no longer the man I fell in love with. Or maybe he never was. Maybe it was all just an act. The man who read me poetry outside my balcony and braided my hair with flowers all those years ago could not be the same man who violated you and caused me to lose my child."

"Do you think he really loved you?" Jovan wasn't sure where the question came from but there it was anyway, along with her damned curiosity.

"A part of me longs to say that yes, he did. He loved me in his own way, in those small moments we shared between us and the world around us ceased to exist. And yet I ask myself too, if he truly loved me, how could he have done this to me?"

A vague shadow of sadness fell over Jovan's heart at Laurine's words, and it almost made her chest hurt just to imagine... no, she couldn't even begin to imagine the betrayal Laurine felt after everything Rémi had done to both of them. It was at that moment that Jovan also realized that she had never quite thought about the fallout between her aunt and uncle once Laurine finally discovered and accepted the truth, and that was only in addition to Rémi causing his wife's miscarriage as well.

No, Jovan couldn't imagine... She refused to, because all the pain she carried within her was simply enough.

"And you, Nathalie ― what about you?"

Laurine's question, which was quite out of the blue, was one that Jovan failed to comprehend quickly in the midst of so many thoughts swimming in her head that all she could muster in response was "Hm?"

"Tell me, have you at least found someone to love you?"

I have.

What?

The answer to Laurine's question was almost instinctive as it rose to her consciousness, sounding very sure and confident and unfaltering that it scared Jovan. She almost stopped in her steps the second she realized what the words truly meant as they came unbidden from the depths of her mind. I have.

And the name that followed them made Jovan stop altogether.

Erik.

"Nathalie?" Laurine called out to her upon noticing that her niece had halted, and Jovan did her best to compose herself while she fought away the anxiety building up in her head, her chest tightening as confusion and denial came in heavy waves, washing over her with an unforeseen urgency.

Why. Why. Why?

"No."

Jovan tried not to snap out the answer she forced out of herself as she raised her eyes to meet Laurine's worried gaze. She could only hope with every fiber of her being that her aunt wouldn't notice the smallest tremble from her body beneath her cloak, or her clenched fists as Jovan did her best to calm herself down.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't really have the time to dally with anyone during these last few years." For good measure, Jovan planted a smirk on her face, hoping it would reassure Laurine. To her relief, her aunt seemed to take the bait as the blonde merely shrugged both her shoulders before she continued walking.

"And here I was hoping that maybe I would finally find out if the rumors were true," Laurine commented as Jovan caught up to her aunt's pace.

"What rumors?" Jovan asked, eager for the distraction as she tried so hard to bury the words from a moment ago, the words that came as answers to Laurine's rather invasive question, and answers that Jovan herself did not feel comfortable to hear and thought to be very wrong.

"That people in the opera house make good lovers, of course." Laurine accompanied her reply with a coquettish smile that Jovan quickly noticed suited her.

"Oh I certainly wouldn't know," Jovan answered with a roll of her eyes. "And neither do I want to know."

Laurine gave a small chuckle in response. "Too bad. Oh well. Wherever that man ― the man who will love you ― will come from, will you accept a little advice from an aunt to her niece regarding said man, Nathalie?"

"And that is?"

"Don't let your love for him blind you as mine did."

At Laurine's words, Jovan couldn't help the small, appreciative smile that formed itself on her red lips. "I won't."

"Good," Laurine approved with a nod. "But enough with that. We need to get you ready for your return to Paris, after all. First, do you have a proper wardrobe?"

"A... proper wardrobe," Jovan echoed, glancing down at the dress she currently wore, another of the costumes that Erik had stolen for her from the costume department before he made a few alterations to keep the outfit up to date with the latest Parisian trends. But alas, it was ultimately not hers and she doubted she could wear it again when she "returned" from her overseas journeying.

Eyebrows knitting, Jovan quietly wondered if she saved at least enough money to buy a few new dresses that she could wear upon her "arrival." The worst case scenario now, which she dearly hoped she never would have to resort to, was to borrow money from Erik if she came up short. Of course she could easily return his money no matter how high the amount once she had established herself as the Comtesse Sauveterre, but she simply wasn't sure if she could ask Erik for that kind of help when he had already done so much for her.

"I presumed that pay from working at the opera house wouldn't be enough if one were to indulge in keeping up with Parisian fashion," Laurine then began before she reached into something hidden beneath her cloak. She fished out a plain brown purse that she then proceeded to nonchalantly hand to Jovan, who took it with an inkling of hesitation.

"What's this?" Jovan asked at the same second she unbuttoned the purse's flap and flipped it open, only to be greeted with the sight of several thick wads of money bills.

"Fifty thousand francs."

Green eyes widened into saucers at the realization of the sheer amount of money Jovan currently held in her hands, the biggest amount she was able to carry ever since she left the manor years ago. Shutting the purse in an instant, she shot Laurine a half-hearted glare, seeking for an explanation from the blonde.

"Yes, that's all yours, Nathalie. I trust you won't go using it to gamble or any other asinine vice now ― use it wisely. The most lavish dresses, a more fashionable hat, new shoes, everything you need to make it seem like you truly went journeying around the globe for the last three years," Laurine said with a wave of her hand.

Jovan opened her mouth, ready to complain ― for goodness' sake, this was more than twice what Erik demanded monthly from the manager! ― before she realized how senseless it would be to protest now. Jovan had yet to put much thought to it but she couldn't deny now that she indeed needed a hefty sum of money if she were to truly appear as if she had been overseas.

"...Thank you, Laurine," were the words Jovan settled for as she hid the purse behind her own cloak, clutching it tightly to her side. If Laurine was indeed on her side, then she was truly trying to prove it as much as she could, Jovan reflected.

"I imagine that won't suffice though if a lady is to have the finest things available to her. Is there some place discrete where I can continue leaving you funds? Perhaps in the Opéra Populaire?"

Jovan had yet to fully process her aunt's question but her mind already had an answer for her anyway, one that she knew was perfect beyond any doubt. "Box Five. The seat to the left. There's a compartment beneath it where you can hide things," she answered without missing a beat, surprising even herself with how quickly the answer came from knowledge granted by Erik who had revealed another of the secrets of his favorite box a few months ago to her.

At Jovan's reply, Laurine arched a slim brow at her niece. "That's a rather convenient place to have. But as long as you're sure that no one else knows of it. I'll have someone hide a purse there then everyday in the morning."

There was nothing Jovan could do but stare at Laurine for a good moment, unsure of whether to side with the worry or the gratefulness that pulsed in her chest. "What about... Rémi? Will he not suspect a thing?"

"Married or not, I always liked to keep a separate bank account for myself. I don't need anyone telling me how to spend my own money after all," Laurine replied with a small smile playing on her lips, and Jovan found herself very much agreeing and liking her aunt's sentiments on the matter. "So no, he won't suspect a thing."

"All right," Jovan acknowledged with a nod. "So what I need to do ― some shopping, studying, and... I need an excuse for why I've returned now of all times."

"Can you accomplish all of those before the next opera at the Populaire premieres, perhaps? It'd be preferable if you were solely the talk of the town upon your return, without any soprano stealing some of the spotlight from you."

Jovan huffed. "Oh you're really aiming for something scandalous now, aren't you?"

"I want nothing less for the Comtesse Sauveterre, of course," Laurine countered before quickening her pace to block Jovan's way. She stood in front of her niece as she added with a growing smile, "Besides, it's not as if this will be the first scandal from our family, no?"

At that, Jovan let out a chuckle. "Hardly," she agreed as Laurine's hand dropped back to her side. "I doubt Father and Mother would approve though."

"You need no one's approval but your own, Nathalie. I'm afraid I have to go now though. Shall I drop you off at the cafe?"

"No need," Jovan refused, shaking her head. "I think it's safer if we go our separate ways from here. I can walk back to the Opéra Populaire on my own."

She stood still as Laurine gave her a quick scan from head to toe. "As long as you're sure then. You couldn't have survived on your own all this time without having a few tricks up your sleeve, after all."

"Perhaps," came Jovan's simple reply, unsure of whether the pathetic letter opener hiding in her right sleeve was enough to count as a trick.

"This is goodbye for now then. Take care, will you?" Laurine bid her before walking past Jovan, beginning the track of their footsteps that would lead all the way back to the cemetery's entrance. Jovan was only able to nod in response before Laurine was out of her line of sight, too quick for her to give a worded reply.

A beat passed before she glanced behind her shoulder. Laurine was already a few feet away from her when Jovan finally grasped at a few coherent words that she decided would be enough for now.

"Laurine," Jovan called after her aunt, and Laurine momentarily stopped to turn back to her, a curious expression on her face.

"Take care too," said Jovan, the words leaving her in a quieter voice than she wanted, but she hoped Laurine would hear them anyway.

And it seemed like she did, as Laurine's face was graced with a soft smile, before she faced away and turned on her heel, leaving Jovan wondering if her smile was as sad as she thought it to be.

Author's Note: I'm sorry there's no Erik and Jovan here, but I promise the next chapter will make up for it! Please leave a review?