Ch. 14 – The Truth Shall Set You Free

Christine stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. She was all alone at last. In the rushed preparations of the past week, she had arrived here somehow standing in an elaborate wedding dress in a magnificent cathedral, and it was as if she could not remember how she had come to be there. The face looking back at her looked unfamiliar and full of dread, like a lamb being led to the slaughter. She covered her face with her hands, willing herself not to cry and spoil the makeup her new maid, Clarissa, had so painstakingly helped her apply.

Attempting to calm herself, Christine took several deep breaths. She was not being sent to some horrible fate, she reminded herself. She was marrying a handsome, rich man who loved her deeply. And today, she would promise herself to him. She had to get her wayward heart under control. In a few moments, she would be standing in a church, pledging herself to Raoul before God.

Her hands flew up to cover her face again in shame. She honestly felt she might be struck down at the altar for it. God would know she was pledging that which no longer belonged to her, that which was already irrevocably promised to someone else. Her hands were shaking. How could she go through with it? Her breath came in great gasps suddenly, and her chest heaved.

The door opened slightly, and Elsa appeared. She saw at once the wild desperation in Christine's shaking, gasping form. Closing the door silently behind her, she walked to Christine's side and took her in her arms. Christine gradually regained her breath and turned her face away into Elsa's shoulder. She spoke in a voice no more than a whisper, "Elsa, what should I do?"

Elsa led her to a bench along the wall and sat facing her, filled with sympathy and concern for the little lost child before her. She cupped Christine's face in her hands. "My darling, only your heart can tell you that." Taking in the look of grief and terror in Christine's eyes, she said softly, "And it appears it already has. Do not doubt it. It speaks only truth." She brushed a tear from Christine's cheek gently with the back of her hand. "Ma chère, no one who is to be married should feel this way. If this were the right choice, would it hurt so?" Her eyes never left Christine's. "I know you mean to right all the wrongs of the past by trying to give Raoul what you could never give your Angel. But is it fair to offer him that which belongs to another? Would he even want it if he knew?"

She patted Christine's hand. "You have already survived the hardest part – admitting the truth to yourself. Could it be any more difficult to admit it to Raoul? He deserves to know. And you deserve to be happy. You will be one day; I have no doubt of that. But darling, happiness cannot be built on dishonesty, and neither can a marriage." Her eyes clouded in that familiar, mysterious way once again, but she smiled gently, "He is outside. Should I send him in?"

Christine looked down at her hands for a moment, then with her decision made, she looked up at Elsa with a small smile. She hugged the older woman gratefully, "Elsa, you are so very like a mother to me. Sometimes, I wish you had been." She kissed her gently on the cheek, "Thank you for everything."

As Christine stood calmly at last, ready to endure the trial ahead, it was Elsa whose eyes filled with tears. As she walked silently out the door to find Raoul, her mind cried out, You don't know how often I have wished that very thing, my darling Christine.

Elsa returned to the courtyard where she had last seen Raoul, her eyes scanning the growing crowd. Finally, she saw him, standing deep in animated conversation with another gentleman. Elsa wasted no time, fearing Christine would lose her nerve. She spoke urgently, "Vicomte, Christine wishes to speak to you. It is most important." He nodded, a look of concern appearing on his face. He bowed curtly to the man with which he had been speaking and followed her without argument.

As they reached the bridal room, Elsa took his arm sympathetically. She looked up at the handsome, loving face and felt a wave of pity. She was thinking of another dear face that had once stood about to hear the same heart-rending words that this unknowing boy would hear momentarily. The man in her memory had never heard them of course, for unlike Christine, her courage had failed before she could utter a single word. Meeting Raoul's questioning look, she said simply, "Go to her."

As Raoul quietly entered the room, he felt his breath catch. His eyes took in Christine standing before him, a lovely vision in the fine white silk dress he had purchased for her. He stared at her, drinking in her loveliness for a moment, but when his eyes drifted to her face, he saw there a curious look of sadness and resolve. She moved toward the bench and motioned for him to sit next to her. He obliged without question. Christine reached for his hand, and stroked it fondly for a moment, gathering her courage. Then, with every last ounce of her will, she told him the truth: She could not marry him. Her heart still belonged to her Angel, and if she could not be with him, she could not be with anyone.

He listened carefully, closing his eyes to the pain several times. The hand that was not held in hers gripped tightly in a fist until his knuckles were white. When she had finished speaking, Christine gently raised his face to meet her eyes. "Do you understand, dear Raoul? Can you ever forgive me?" She needed him to understand, to let her go at last.

Raoul looked at her innocent, pleading face in both wonderment and despair. He looked away from her, and in a soft voice, answered gently, "Christine, it is I who should be asking your forgiveness." He dropped his head into his hands. "I knew. God help me, I knew. In my desperation to have you as my own, I willfully overlooked what you wanted, thinking in my arrogance that in time, I could be everything that you needed." He sighed brokenly. "I will never claim to understand your feelings for him, but I can only say that were he to be alive, he would be the most fortunate man on Earth, despite his past. For he earned somehow, what I could not."

He stood up, drawing her to him in a gentle, anguished embrace, burying his face in the softness of her shoulder. "I will always love you, Christine. I can't change that. But that love allows me to accept that I cannot give you the happiness you deserve." His eyes filled with tears, as he drew back to take in her face once more. She smiled at him, a real smile this time, full of gratefulness and fondness. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was enough. She reached down and slid his ring from her finger, placing it in his hand, and closing his fingers over it. He bent down and kissed her softly on the forehead. "Be happy at last, Little Lotte." With that, he turned and left the room.