His mind quickly drifted back to something that was still bothering him; had been hovering in the back of his mind ever since Valentine had mentioned it. Eugénie. He knew that he would have to face her tomorrow, and knew that - whatever the result, they would have to all work together in order to get past and put right this Cavalcanti business. However, Albert was keen to try and get Eugénie to stay as far away from the madman as possible - after what Cavalcanti had done to her already… well, Albert didn't really want to think about it; he just wanted her safe.
"Are you alright?" Albert's train of thought was broken by Maximilien's question, and he realised that he'd been unconsciously frowning. His friend was watching him in concern, and Albert bit his lower lip for a moment before replying.
"Yeah, I suppose. It's just…" he paused, trying to search for the right words, "you know - tomorrow. Eugénie."
"Ahh," Maximilien nodded, brown eyes softening in understanding," of course. But, you know Albert… I really don't think you should worry about it. Whatever's going to happen will happen; chances are she'll feel just like you." Maximilien suddenly stopped and blushed a little, evidently embarrassed by seeming to attempt to give Albert advice on girls.
Albert straightened up, and watched the seagulls which circled the sky screeching as they flew. "You know? You're right. There's no point worrying… I'll try my best." Maximilien looked pleased, and cleared his throat.
"Right, then. Shall we move on further? If we walk up just past here, we should reach the town hall soon enough."
"Good idea; it was nice to stop here for a moment, though," Albert said appreciatively, as he and Maximilien began to head up past the centre of the harbour. In years gone by, the harbour would have been one of the most important parts of the town; it would have been busy and bustling, with ships docking and families rushing to meet the sailors disembarking from their long voyages. There would have been crates stacked high, full of foreign goods; thick coils of rope; tangled webs of netting, and piles of freshly caught fish. Now, though, it was nearly empty. A single lonely boat drifted in, but there was no one there to greet it. There were no crowds of people, no interesting cargo.
Albert couldn't help but feel, as they walked by, that it was somewhat sad; a remnant of another time which now almost felt out of place, despite how much of Marseille's character depended upon it. But of course, all of Marseille's business was now drawn to the space port, where they themselves were heading.
The rest of their walk passed pleasantly enough; Albert thoroughly enjoyed taking in the sights and architecture of Marseille, and by the end of it felt reasonably well acquainted with the town. Maximilien seemed to like acting as his guide, and happily gave him concise yet interesting facts about the various areas they passed through.
As it turned out, though, in fact they never made it to the space port.
The two young men stopped and stared at each other in surprise as an open-top car sped past at top speed, only narrowly missing Maximilien. Strangely enough, not a minute later it was back again - but this time driving in reverse slowly, until it finally pulled level with them. The reckless driver pulled off her sunglasses and leaned over, giving them a small smile, eyes sparkling.
"Come on, get in." Albert froze in shock, recognising that voice instantly. He finally focused on the girl in front of him, heat beating wildly.
"Eugénie." He knew his voice sounded slightly flat; unenthusiastic - and that pained him, because he knew it wasn't how he really wanted to come across. Her face fell slightly, and she glanced away from him.
"Eugénie!" Maximilien exclaimed, a big smile spreading over his face, "what are you doing here so soon? We weren't expecting you until tomorrow!" He accepted her gesture, and opened the back door of the car and clambered in; after a moment's hesitation, Albert followed.
"Ohh, I hope it's not a problem?" Eugénie sounded slightly guilty, "I found a much faster flight straight away, and I really wanted to get here as soon as possible, so…"
Maximilien waved away her concerns immediately., "oh no, not at all! Valentine will be so glad to see you. We've all been terribly concerned since you first brought… the news."
"Mm." Eugénie frowned, tapping her gloved hand against the steering wheel as she started up the car again, beginning the drive back into the centre of town. Her hair was slightly longer these days; the wavy ends of her blonde hair brushing the tops of her shoulders. "I know; I could hardly believe it myself." She shuddered, and Albert immediately felt anger at Cavalcanti thrill through him again. "But, after the phone call I received from my mother…" she sighed, and her expression was disconsolate. Albert supposed he should not be surprised that Eugénie had changed - it had been a long time, but… the old Eugénie would not have shown so much concern over her mother, especially not when it came to Cavalcanti. "Well, it was unavoidable. And it's unthinkable that's he's out from behind bars again - so something has to be done about that!" Her jaw was set, expression determined.
Albert sat in the back of the car, the wind howling in his ears, and smiled. Because in many ways, this Eugénie was still the very same Eugénie that he had had to say goodbye to.
He sat quietly in his back seat, perfectly aware of the curious glances Maximilien kept throwing him, and of the way Eugénie pointedly did not talk to him directly. He knew it was foolish, childish and nonsensical, but… things were different somehow, and it bothered him that he didn't quite know why. He leaned an arm on top of the door, gazing moodily down at the road speeding along underneath them.
"…don't you think, Albert?" He jumped a little, taken by surprise at… whatever the question might have been.
"Huh?"
"I was just commenting on how well Eugénie was looking these days. Don't you agree?" Albert's mouth worked silently for a second, hardly able to believe Maximilien was capable of being so sly. The other young man was looking at him with an innocent smile, but his eyes said otherwise.
"…I liked your hair better before." The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to consider them, and, of course, he immediately regretted them.
"Well excuse me," Eugénie snapped, eyes narrowing on the road as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Awkward silence fell again, and the only sound was that of the heavy purr of the car's engine, and the occasional angry rev as Eugénie tried to take out her obvious irritation with Albert.
Albert, on the other hand, had sunk down in his seat, looking guilty. Why was he acting so childishly? It was almost as though he had reverted to being twelve again. As he watched Eugénie's hair, blowing in the wind and escaping up over the headrest of the seat in front of him, he supposed, reluctantly, that he was just wary to let her back into his life again. She had been so important to him… and then - although he understood why - had left him. And it had been… years…
And, he thought with a pang of unhappiness, after all of this was over, she was probably going to run away back to New York again, to be with her music.
In barely any time at all, they were pulling up in the Morrells' drive; it was still beautiful, but the flowers and greenery did little to cheer Albert up. Eugénie pocketed her keys and leaped out lightly, dark sunglasses still perched precariously on her head.
"Oh…" she commented, as the trio began to walk up to the house, "your front door's already op--!" she broke off with a gasp as they drew close to the entrance, her expression horrified. Maximilien let out a cry and raced forwards.
"Valentine!" Both Eugénie and Albert heard his cry, in a voice so full of fear and worry, as he disappeared inside.
It took a split second for Albert to even realise exactly what it was that Eugénie and Maximilien had seen: but then it struck him. On the floor near the open door, there lay a crumpled female figure, hidden in shadows. They quickly glanced at each other and immediately ran inside, joining Maximilien who was kneeling by the figure, his expression tortured and his fingers pressed against her neck.
"She's dead…" he whispered in disbelief - and the immediately his eyes grew wide in utter terror. "Valentine…" The name was hardly out of his mouth before he was turning and sprinting up the stairs without a single glance backwards.
Eugénie was staring at the corpse of the girl on the floor, trembling slightly, even though Albert could tell how desperately she was attempting to hide it.
"She…" he murmured, crouching down and reaching out a hand to brush the messy hair from the body's face, "she's one of the maids. She brought us tea yesterday, and I… I never even knew her name." For some reason, he felt horrible guilty about this fact.
He straightened up and joined Eugénie in watching the stairs anxiously, waiting for word of Valentine -- and Monsieur de Villefort, too. Albert felt a cold hand of dread reach out and clutch at his stomach, twisting and turning until he felt sick with worry.
Cavalcanti.
It had to be - no-one else could have possibly done this. The front of the maid's uniform was stained almost black with blood; several deep, almost randomly positioned gashes were the source. Perhaps Cavalcanti had panicked; it certainly looked like the unplanned attack of a madman.
Their eyes met in sudden fear as they heard a heart-wrenching cry from upstairs; without a thought, they were almost tripping over in their haste to make it to the top of the stairs. Maximilien was in the room at the end of the hallway, alone, kneeling on the floor where his knees had given way from under him. Books were scattered and picture frames smashed; the room was a mess, and there was every evidence of a struggle.
But… no bodies, and no blood, Albert couldn't help but think with a small measure of relief. Eugénie's gloved hands covered her mouth, and her eyes were filled with shock, and glittered with unshed tears. But she did not cry, nor did she turn to him for comfort.
Maximilien was quiet now, except for his heavy breathing and occasional stifled sob. Albert felt his hatred for Andrea Cavalcanti grow even stronger - why had he taken Valentine, why? What was he planning? Because whatever it was, they probably didn't have much time. They needed to do something, and needed to do something now.
"It's…" Maximilien whispered hoarsely, the anger etched deeply in his voice, "it's all my fault. What was I thinking, leaving Valentine here all by herself? And… the baby… How… how could I have done that? And… and Marie -- poor Marie…"
Albert watched hopelessly as Maximilien seemed to spiral downwards in a cycle of depression and guilt - only Eugénie regained a determined gleam in her eyes, and marched forwards to place her hands gently on Maximilien's shoulders below her.
He didn't respond at all as she touched him, crouching down beside him to catch his attention, her face worried, but resolute.
"Maximilien…" She gripped his shoulder tightly as his body shook silently; quietly mumbled words slipping inaudibly from his lips. "We still have time. But… we have to act quickly. If we sit and wait here for too long, who knows what could happen? Cavalcanti is… unpredictable. And ruthless. But - he's not an imbecile, and he has nothing to gain from letting anything happen to Valentine."
Maximilien looked up, expression dark, "… but he is insane."
The words fell heavy and foreboding in the wrecked room. But still, Eugénie's words had had an effect on the tall man, and he stood, clenching his fists.
"You're right. We have to do something, and soon." Without a glance, he strode past them, expression hard and eyes determined. "I'll go and put a call through to the gendarmes. They probably won't be able to do much, but… Marie… something must be done."
Albert cast Eugénie a sombre glance, and together they followed Maximilien from what had been Monsieur de Villefort's room. It felt awful, hearing the house so empty and eerily quiet. It simply wasn't right, and Albert couldn't believe that Maximilien and Valentine were being put through this after all they had already endured.
They sat in the dining room as Maximilien was taking care of the necessary phone calls; silence reigned, each lost in thought. Albert was deeply unsettled; this was not at all how he had imagined things would turn out once he returned to France. Albert watched Eugénie quietly - and so, for a moment, he saw her guarded expression fall. She looked terribly desolate, and he felt nothing but an overwhelming desire to try and make all that pain and fear disappear.
"Eugénie…"
"Hm?" She looked towards him, feelings shielded once more.
"I… do you think you should phone your mother? You must want to check that she's alright…" The blonde girl raised an eyebrow, studying him.
"Well, of course. I'm quite sure she's fine, though; Marseille and Paris are quite a long way from each other, you know. But yes, I will keep her updated."
Albert only nodded, feeling slightly foolish. Only Eugénie could make him feel this much like a child again.
"Look, Eugénie… about this morning…"
She looked back up from examining the he pattern stretching around the edge of the table, eyes surprised.
"Yes?" Her response was unexpectedly gentle, and Albert felt a burst of -- what was it? Hope? Fear? Anticipation? -- glowing in his chest.
"I just wanted to say--"
"Finally got through to them," Maximilien announced wearily as he entered the room, causing Albert to jump a little in surprise, "they'll be here in just a little while."
The sky was now dark, and they'd switched the electric lights on because, unsurprisingly, there were no longer any staff left in residence, and so there was no-one to look after the many candles which gave the house a certain distinctive charm. Albert absent-mindedly wondered what had happened to Camille. Had he gone, too? He wouldn't have blamed him in the slightest.
The three of them sat for a moment, all tense and awaiting the arrival of the gendarmes. It was evident that Maximilien was incredibly highly strung; he could not seem to keep still, and constantly seemed distracted. Just sitting and waiting seemed to be an impossible task for him - he soon stood up again, excusing himself with the promise of going to fetch them all tea.
Although he and Eugénie were alone again, Albert could not bring himself to continue what he had been planning to say earlier. It was still too soon, too awkward. The timing was hardly appropriate, either. He noticed Eugénie watching him, but refused to meet her eyes. Instead, he reached out and chose an orange from the bowl of fruit in the centre of the table. He really wasn't hungry in the slightest - but it was something to focus on; something to keep his hands and mind somewhat occupied.
The sweet, citrus smell of the fruit was powerful, and Albert appreciated the simple distraction. He chewed slowly on the food that his stomach really had no desire for, and watched Eugénie stare listlessly out of the window into the darkness. Things were looking bleak, and Albert found that he really had no idea about what they should do next. 'Track down Cavalcanti', he supposed - but how? It was far easier said than done, especially if Cavalcanti truly didn't want to be found. He'd hidden and escaped before; he could probably do it again.
Except for one thing: Madame Danglars.
If, as Eugénie had said, he was still after her… then that meant that he would still be in France - and chances are, that he would be heading for Paris. If nothing else, it was an idea of where to start.
Maximilien returned, clutching an unsteady tray of dainty cups and a tea pot, as well as a small jug of milk. They murmured their thanks as he began to pour, saying nothing as splashes escaped on more than one occasion.
Albert could see that Maximilien was barely holding himself together; but he thought he was doing an admirable job. After he had lost Franz… he had been an absolute wreck for days. Admittedly, it was hardly the same circumstances, but even so. He still remembered how utterly dedicated Maximilien had been to Valentine while she had been poisoned; how much he had been willing to risk in order to save her, and be with her. They had fought for their happiness and finally won it - only for this to happen.
But then, Albert thought a little sadly, life was harsh, and very rarely fair.