CHAPTER 2 - The dream comes back
November 1778
Autumn was almost over. Warmer days interwined with cold ones, and the colorful leaves on the trees began to fall in huge cascades. The wind slid over the rooftops and whispered as if to warn that everything was changing. That fate cannot be deceived. That the destiny is written somewhere, stronger than human desires. But it also whispered about hope. And that you can always fight this..
It was dawning outside. The manor was slowly waking up to life. The servants bustled in the building, quietly, so as not to wake the master and his family. In the kitchen, the girls ran back and forth under the guidance and watchful eye of the silver-haired hostess. Marie was an excellent home strategist. She ruled the kitchen and the rest of manor duties with skill comparable to that of the best royal general. At least that's what Oscar had always joked about, and while these were jokes, they were lined with the absolute truth. Without Marie, the Jarjayes house would be chaos. Marie was also the nanny of Oscar and her sisters until late childhood. Later, governesses and teachers took over their education, and in Oscar's case, also the father.
The hostess was practically part of the family. All the Jarjayes sisters were very close to her, cause she stood in for a grandmother they did not have. The general and his wife also had great respect for the woman who devoted her entire life to their family. She actually had some close relatives living in Normandy, but she rarely saw them. The Jaryajes were Marie's family and this manor was her home.
- Rosalie! - Marie exclaimed impatiently - Stop picking at these tablecloths and get to work! Take the one with the embroidery! Not that one! Yes - this one! Please, go upstairs now and set the table before the master gets up!
Rosalie was the youngest maid. She joined the team three years earlier, at request of Oscar, who wanted to help the girl. Mademoiselle found Rosalie on the streets of Paris, dirty and unkempt, begging for money to buy food and medicine for her sick mother. Oscar took pity on her and gave her a job at the manor.
Rosalie squeezed the tablecloth in her hands and ran upstairs, followed by the hostess Marie's watchful gaze. On the way, a young girl knocked on the door at the end of the corridor, as was her daily custom.
- Mademoiselle Oscar! - she said calmly, but loudly - It's eight o'clock already!
Oscar sat up abruptly on the bed. She pushed back a strand of wet hair that would stick to her forehead.
- It's impossible, just impossible.. - she whispered, struggling with her breath
It's one more night. Why did this dream come back to torment her right now? It has been so many years since she first dreamed about it. However, the dream came back quite recently, right after Fersen's return.
„Bloody strange coincidence" - she thought bitterly.
Boy from the dream was tormenting her with his words again. Eight years ago, she was just furious. But then she was still a child, overwhelmed by the new task, drunk with responsibility. Now, after so many years, she was a little tired of this life. Intrigue, gossip, plotting behind her back, evil, and often plain stupidity. This was permeated with court life in Versailles. She just wanted to be a soldier. Perform her duties to the best of her ability. Instead, she was drawn into a scuffle with Madame du Barry and took on the task of defending the princess from rumors of her relationship with Fersen. When Fersen left, everything seemed to calm down. Then Countess de Polignac appeared, and Oscar knew, after a few meetings, that nothing good would come out of this new Marie Antoinette's acquaintance. From the very beginning, Oscar's soldier heart did not trust this strange woman. And unfortunately she was right. The Queen began to buy expensive dresses, throw lavish parties and, to make matters worse, start to gamble. She was losing huge amounts of money. Gambling was also, by the king's decree, just illegal.
And now Fersen appeared again. Two months ago, he returned triumphantly to wreak havoc and confuse the queen's head. The very beginning was really promising, Oscar thought ironically. Already at the outset, the queen found out that the count was going to marry and she did not take it well.
„What an idiot! - Oscar thought with disgust - Why did he tell her about it? Any woman in love would accept such a confession from a man who could not be her.. Cursed fool.." - she sighed heavily
But Oscar liked Fersen after all. Maybe there were even friends. He was a soldier, just like her. He rode a horse wonderfully. He wield a weapon perfectly. They met often to discuss some of the queen's plans, or to just ride or practice fencing. It was like that before he left, and so now. They returned to their companionship as if it had not been three years that Fersen had disappeared.
And if their last conversation had never occured. That day, three year ago, she had came to say that his presence was not desired in France. That it caused too many rumors. That the princess could not have been caught up in an unclear situation.
Despite great sorrow, Fersen agreed that his departure was the only chance to clear the name of Marie Antoinette.
But that wasn't what Oscar was most upset about that conversation. They agreed that he should leave, then she said goodbye and started to leave. But she did not make it. As she had her hand on the doorknob, she heard Fersen's question.
- Do you never feel tired of the life you lead? You wear a uniform, you command soldiers, you plan actions. Wouldn't you prefer to live differently? - he asked quietly
- Pardon? - Oscar paused at the door, unsure if she heard everything right - What are you talking about, Count Fersen? - she turned and looked at him with eyes wide open
- I am sorry if you felt offended - Fersen answered quickly - You lead your life in an unusual way for a woman, hence my question. Most women at your age are getting married and giving born to their first child. Have you never thought about it? - the count continued an unsafe subject
Oscar looked at him and her eyes narrowed dangerously. She wanted to laugh, but instead of being amused, she felt angry. She had put so much work into being a good soldier, the best soldier. She had been training days and nights until wounds appeared on her hands. There were scars all over her body from falling from a horse and from the tip of a sword. Usually everyone was respectful when it came to her choice of the way of life. Or her father's choice. Anyway, it's the same. Just now, did this elegant dandy have the audacity to throw the femininity into her face?
- A very bold question – she hissed – Or maybe is it a proposal? Do you want to marry me? - she added sarcastically
Fersen went still. He looked at her fearfully, then move his gaze in other direction.
- I am sorry, madeimoselle - he said softly, without looking at her - I never meant to offend you. Please, forgive me..
- Goodbye, Fersen – she said and left quickly
They didn't see each other for three long years from that time.
Upon his return, Fersen was nice. Friendly. As if time erased bad memories and they went back to the point where they had been friends. Neither of them mentioned the words they parted with. At least for these two months.
Why did Oscar remember this conversation now?
"It's not too late to choose a woman's life!" the boy shouted.
"Do you never feel tired of the life you lead?" Fersen asked.
The two sentences crashed into her head, causing hudge confusion.
A sudden knock tore Oscar from her exhausting reflections.
- Mademoiselle Oscar - she heard a voice from the other side of the door - Can I come in?
- Come in, Rosalie - she replied, quickly tidying her hair
The girl entered with clean shirts in her hands. She bowed and carried the clothes to the dresser.
- Thank you - Oscar nodded
Rosalie stood at the door.
- Is there anything else? - Oscar asked, seeing that she was not leaving
- Yes, mademoiselle. Marie asked me to let you know that breakfast is ready. We also have a guest - she said quickly
- Guest? - Oscar asked with interest
- That's right. Count Fersen is waiting. Excuse me! - the girl bowed and left.