The night air was chilling, the moon beaming bright, as Christian and Roxanne stepped out onto the raised stone veranda above the Lunar Palace's vast gardens. As they took a seat together on a carved marble bench, the princess spotted that her paramour's hand was trembling, and gently covered it with her own.
"Christian," she coaxed, "what do you want to tell me?"
"Roxanne..." Christian choked in response, "I think you are beautiful... so very beautiful. But - "
"A-ha!"
Before Christian could continue his confession, the Baron de Brouillard leapt out from behind a pillar: drawing his rapier with a flourish. Christian instantly leapt in front of the princess, protecting her, and reached for his own sword – only to seize up, scared, as he felt the tip of the Baron's blade poking into his chest.
"Well, well," scoffed the Baron. "The Count des Étoiles. Trembling, are we? I must say, I expected greater courage from Prince Cyrano's little protégé."
Christian's eyes widened.
"Oh, yes," the Baron continued. "The replacement I sent for that mad old bat Madame des Nuages has been keeping a very good eye on you. I know exactly who and what you are... Christian."
"I won't let you harm the Princess!" Christian barked, doing his utmost to summon up his courage and stand firm.
"Oh, I have no intention of harming her. Not until after my coronation, at least. But you, on the other hand..."
Suddenly, he cried out, outraged, as he felt his cape fall from his shoulders. Turning, he came face to face with Prince Cyrano – rapier raised, and ready for a fight.
"Leave him be, Baron," Cyrano demanded. "Your quarrel is with me."
The Baron chuckled.
"Ah, yes... the righteous Prince of the Moon Realm. I knew you'd come out to protect your precious darling. Well, it's too late. She's mine. And once I finish you off, your creation will die next!"
The Baron thrust his blade forward, and Cyrano countered deftly. The duo duelled for some time, with the Prince skilfully defending against every blow, before turning to Christian and Roxanne during the briefest pause in the conflict.
"Get out of here!" he ordered. "Christian – keep Roxanne safe!"
Christian didn't need to be told twice. He hurriedly led Roxanne away down the terrace staircase and into the gardens, praying that the darkness of night would protect them.
Hurriedly running down the same stone path they had walked down arm-in-arm mere days ago, Christian passed the royal apple orchard – surrounded by a high topiary wall, and more importantly, a wooden door. Seizing Roxanne's hand, he hastily pulled her inside and locked the door behind them - before sliding down into a seated position in the soil, rasping for air.
"Christian?" Roxanne asked, concerned - kneeling down beside him. To hell with getting dirt on her expensive dress! "Christian, what's going on? What did the Baron mean by "protégé"? Has... Has Cyrano been training you?"
"More than you know," Christian answered, once he had got his breath back. "That's what I was trying to tell you before."
"What do you mean?"
Christian took the princess' hand, and cupped it gently.
"Cyrano loves you, Roxanne," he told her – softly but sincerely. "He has always loved you, ever since you were young. But... he believe you can never love him back, because of his looks. That's why he wrote all of those poems for you."
"The poems?" Roxanne gasped. "But... but you wrote.."
"No, no," Christian continued. "I just copied them down. I'm not a Count, Princess. I'm not noble at all. I'm just the Prince's valet... a shoemaker's son. He chose me because he thought my looks were worthy of you. But the soul of Christian – the Christian you love – is entirely him."
Roxanne shook her head wildly, her face paling.
"I... I can't..." she stammered.
"The truth is, I think you are a wonderful person, Roxanne," Christian went on. "These recent weeks have been heaven for me. But... I know I could never love you the way that Cyrano does. He would give his life for you, Princess. You belong together. I know that more than I know anything else."
Shaking with - Confusion? Rage? She wasn't sure which – Roxanne threw herself into Christian's arms, and burst into tears.
"Why didn't he tell me, Christian?" she sobbed. "Why didn't he tell me the truth? Why would he do all this? Was he trying to... embarrass me? Humiliate me?"
"No!" Christian insisted. "No, not at all, Princess, I swear! That was the last thing he wanted to do. He thought only of your happiness, and was willing to sacrifice his own to save you from your unwanted marriage!"
"Then why didn't he ask for my hand himself?"
"He believed, with all his heart, that you would refuse him. That your family would reject him. And his own family made him feel unworthy."
"But why? What did they do – what I have done – to make him feel that way?"
"He told me a story about when you were children. You saw him once, without his mask. He said you stared at him in... what was the word? Revulsion."
"Revulsion?" Roxanne asked, desperately racking her brain for the memory – until the sight of the apple trees brought it running back to her.
Cyrano climbing and falling. The mask breaking. Her wrapping up his wounded hand in a handkerchief.
"Oh, my poor Cyrano!" she sighed. "That look was never revulsion, Christian! It was simply... confusion. I had never seen his nose before. Perhaps I was startled by it, to begin with, as a child is by anything unexpected, but soon enough... I grew accustomed to it."
"You did?"
"Yes, quite naturally! And if I seemed frightened, well... it was because he was hurt! And the Moon Queen came over and ushered him away before I had the chance to say anything to him."
She wiped away her tears – her face lightening up as though she had just uncovered a long-hidden truth.
"All through those childhood summers and beyond," she told Christian, "Cyrano was such a special companion to me. But part of him always seemed... distant. And he never spoke to me of love. So, I never brought the matter up. I just assumed he felt nothing more for me than friendship. But, now, knowing those poems were from his pen, seeing what he was hiding in his heart..."
Looking up at the magnificent moon in the starry sky, she smiled.
"I love him, Christian. I see that now. And nothing will ever part us again."
She rose to her feet, brushing over the many lavish folds of her ballgown.
"I forgive you for all of this," she told the valet happily. "You are a good friend to Prince Cyrano, and a better servant besides. But now, I have to go to him. To confess my love. It will give him a titan's strength, and then, I will see him vanquish that monster Baron de Brouillard with my own eyes."
She scurried over to the wooden door, and threw it open – rushing back toward the Lunar Palace. Christian, terrified, and honour-bound to protect her, gave chase at once... but in vain.
Their swords clattering, sweat streaming from their brows, Cyrano and the Baron found themselves lunging back and forth, round and round... with neither one able to get a true advantage over the other. Then, all at once, the Baron lost his footing during a parry, and Cyrano seized his chance - forcing the Baron back against the balcony boundary, his spine almost arching over the stone wall.
"Cyrano!"
The sudden shout grabbed the Prince's attention. Looking out over the gardens, he saw Roxanne re-emerging from the shadows. She was looking up at him with utter delight – one hand resting on her heart.
Ah. So Christian had proposed at last. It was too late for the Baron now. He had ensured Roxanne's happy ending.
"Cyrano!" Roxanne repeated, rushing up the terrace staircase. "Cyrano, I - "
She shrieked, sharply, as she felt herself being pulled from behind. Mademoiselle Géle, having silently sneaked up behind her, threw an arm around her waist to hold her fast. In her other hand was a dagger, raised and held against the princess' throat.
"Now, my lord!" she shouted to the Baron. "Now!"
As Cyrano witnessed the emerging scene in horror, he made a dangerous mistake. He let down his guard. Clutching the Prince's cape, the Baron de Brouillard dragged him around to face him, and then plunged his rapier into his heart.
With a croak, Cyrano slowly sank down on to the terrace, motionless.
Roxanne, horrified beyond measure, was unable to speak... not even able to say her beloved's name. All she could emit was a howl of anguish. With tears streaming down her face, she stomped as hard as she could on Mademoiselle Géle's foot, causing her to drop the dagger and stagger backwards. The force of Roxanne pulling away, snatching up the weapon as she did so, was enough to send the maid tumbling backwards down the staircase.
As she locked eyes with the Baron, a single shout from Roxanne's lips.
"Guards!"
Yet, she wasn't willing to wait for them. Charging forward, she pushed aside the villain's blade – the sharp edge cutting open the sleeve of her dress as she did so – and plunged the dagger straight into his chest.
As blood spilled over the princess' ballgown, the Baron – his limbs locking up – stepped backwards hastily, and soon fell over the balcony wall... landing motionless on the lawn below.
As the Lunar Guards appeared, Christian raced up to the terrace, calling both Cyrano and Roxanne's names. He found the princess kneeling at the Prince's side – pulling him into her arms to cradle him.
Wheezing, Cyrano looked up into Roxanne's eyes. Her look was one of purest love.
"It was you, Cyrano," Roxanne whispered. "It was you, all this time. The poems. Those romantic words. All of that was from you."
It took almost all of the strength Cyrano had to shake his head.
"No," he rasped. "No, Roxanne. Christian... it was Christian..."
"Christian told me the truth," Roxanne explained. "Please... don't lie to me, Cyrano. Not now."
With cotton-soft hands, the princess gently brushed Cyrano's cheek.
"Let me hear it from your own lips, Cyrano. Do you love me?"
Twin streaks of tears flowed out from beneath Cyrano's mask.
"Yes," he breathed. "Yes. I love you, Roxanne... with all my soul. But I... I was not worthy of you."
"You are, Cyrano," Roxanne insisted. "You always were. You must believe that. You must live, for my sake."
Cyrano winced. - his blood beginning to run cold.
"Too late," he croaked. "Too late, my Roxanne."
Seeing Christian, he raised a hand weakly, beckoning the valet to approach him. Without a word, Christian obediently hurried to his master's side.
"I here create you Count des Étoiles, in my father's name," Cyrano rasped. "The Polaris Palace is yours. When I am gone... marry Roxanne. Please. Give her the happiness that I could not."
"No!" Roxanne cried, clutching Cyrano's tightly to her bosom. "No! You will live, Cyrano! You have to live!"
"Roxanne..."
With that final whisper, Cyrano's body became limp in Roxanne's arms.
"Oh, no," the princess pleaded - casting a glance upwards at the Prince's precious moon, praying to her for mercy. "Please... please, Cyrano! Don't die! Don't leave me!"
With a shaking hand, she turned Cyrano's heavy head towards her.
"I love you! My love, my only love!"
Leaning forward, she planted a long, tender kiss on Cyrano's cold lips.
Suddenly, the couple were bathed in a blazing,mysterious light – coloured gold and silver. The blood upon their clothing vanished. Cyrano's wound sealed shut, and breath returned to his body.
As Roxanne looked up, she saw her mother and father, stood waiting by the ballroom doors, hand in hand. The other nobles of the Lunar and Solar Courts were hurriedly gathering behind them. The Sun King's expression mirrored Roxanne's own: a look of marvelled amazement at the miracle that was occurring before them. The Queen, however, smiled knowingly, and with complete joy.
"Now the moon and sun will rise together in the sky," she said warmly. "Just as I promised you, dear godson. Now you are loved for who you are, you will know true happiness hereafter."
Shining cracks begin to form in Cyrano's mask. Within seconds, it shattered into pieces and fell away from his face: the shards vanishing into thin air. Cyrano's eyelids fluttered weakly, and with a dreary slowness, he opened them – spotting Roxanne's beaming but tear-stained face still staring at him.
"Roxanne!"
He sat up, sharply – clutching his beloved's hand. He had the strangest feeling something was missing. As his free hand flew towards his nose, the mystery was solved.
"My mask! I must have my mask! I - !"
Mortified, he removed his plume-topped hat with coronet band, and desperately tried to hide his face within it. Roxanne, giggling, grasped his wrists, and pulled them away – planting another soft kiss on his prolonged proboscis.
"You are perfect without it, Cyrano," she cooed, soothing him. "I never want you to wear one again."
"But I'll... I'll embarrass you..."
Roxanne shushed him.
"Your nose is a part of you, and for that reason alone, I love it," she told him. "You are a poet, Cyrano. You are a duellist. You are a gentleman. And no matter what any ignorant fool may say about your looks, you are a prince, through and through. The Moon Prince. To me, you are the handsomest man upon the earth. And I love you with all my heart."
"And I love you, Roxanne," Cyrano replied – feeling he could burst open with joy at any moment. "I am yours, forever... until the sun and the moon sink into the seas."
He helped Roxanne up onto her feet, but remained on the ground – changing his position in order to kneel before her.
"If you will grant me so great an honour," he began, holding his doffed hat against his heart. "I, Prince Cyrano de la Lune, most humbly ask you, Princess Roxanne du Soleil, to become my wife, my future queen, and to unite our kingdoms."
"Yes, Cyrano!" Roxanne cried. "Yes – of course I will!"
Cyrano excitedly leapt up, all too eager to embrace his new fiancée in his arms at last – until, as a sudden afterthought, Roxanne stepped away.
"That is," she added hurriedly, "if my parents will grant consent."
Shyly, the couple approached the Sun King and Queen, and Cyrano greeted them with a courtly bow.
"Your Majesties," he asked humbly, "may I marry your daughter?"
"I foresaw this day before you were even born, my precious Roxanne," the Queen admitted. "Of course you may have my blessing."
As her husband saw the Lunar Guards carrying away a writhing, wailing Mademoiselle Géle, he nodded.
"I had no notion of the Baron's malice," he explained. "All I want... all I have ever wanted... is what was best for my daughter and my realm. I realise now, good Prince Cyrano, that you were always meant to be Roxanne's bridegroom, and I ask for your forgiveness. Love Roxanne always, and may both of our kingdoms prosper together."
With their love now blessed, Cyrano and Roxanne were unable to hold back any longer. As the nobility cheered and called out their wishes for a long life and reign, the couple embraced one another tightly, and locked lips in a fiery, passionate kiss.
Author's Note:
I was SO tempted to have three Lunar Guards called Athos, Aramis and Porthos! Wrong book, I know, but what the heck! And besides, the two stories have been blended before - Cyrano et d'Artagnan, anyone?
Also, this isn't the end of the tale! A short epilogue will follow.
Thank you for reading this far already!