Six months earlier.

I practically sprang out of the carriage, my suitcase tumbling out right after me. My eyes, bright with curiosity and an innocence that only a woman unaware of the true, full world could truly possess—I couldn't help but let a smile spread over my face. It was just as beautiful as I could have possibly imagined, I thought as I stood there, bags in hand as I took in the new universe that buzzed and crashed around me. It was a summer of love and fresh start in Paris that summer I knew- I could feel it instantly. The endless span of white stone, the distinct smell of bread and rich candles, and the gorgeous expanse of blue-bird sky stretched out like a canvas- and I was the main subject of the painting.

"Gemma?" I heard my name with a start. Awoken from my dream-like daze over the city of lights- I turned my head in the speaker's direction.

Before me stood a tiny little dark haired young woman with a mane of crazy dark brown curls, olive complexion and a splattering of freckles despite her dark skin across her cheekbones- hazel eyes bright and sprightly. She was cute, in her way, but so small and petite that her likeness to a doll was uncanny. I suddenly recognized her- shrieking with more melodramatics than was normal for me by far- hugging my cousin so tight I'm sure all the air had been entirely squeezed from her lungs.

. My cousin Evangeline and I had spent countless summers together in my stuffy home in England- but this was the first time I'd come to Paris to stay with her- and I'd come a free woman.

This said—I'd left behind my family and all their wealth were now forever. I'd run away from my role in the biggest wedding in England since the King and Queen themselves. Every lord and lady from all the best families were invited to the wedding of Lady Gemma Katherine Silverbrook and the esteemed Lord William Jorge Parker- the two wealthiest unmarried singles in the court. He, naturally, was an old wrinkled widower with as many liver-spots as he had prosperity.

But I'd known better .I wanted to give to the world- to be a bohemian independent- although mostly I'd just liked the sound of it. I felt I just couldn't stand to bare the suffocation of the spirit boiling inside of me- I bolted. I left my family, my inheritance, my honor and my titles- and probably shamed my poor parents forever. But I hadn't cared- it was time for me to grow. And I'd known exactly where to go.

Paris was the place, I knew that at once. In a new universe of artists and musicians and dancers- I wanted to be a part of it. What, exactly, my special talent was—I was yet to discover quite yet. I was convinced, however, that I possessed some sort of artistic expression..

The first few days in Evangeline's home were good ones- the estate had been passed down to her from her parents after they'd died a few years back. It was close enough to the city I'd come to set my goals and dreams upon- but isolated enough, I'd felt, for creative thought and isolation.

It was a beautiful, classic, if not grandiose home- made entirely of aged stone, ivy creeping up through the sparkling clear windows, sunlight bathing everything in it's soft yellow gold rays. I spent many an hour wandering about the lush gardens, overflowing with roses and lilies, hidden ponds and fountains covered in moss spurting up behind hidden walls of greenery.

We were in the kitchen one evening after I'd had a frustrating evening out back- trying desperately to form the right words on a page for a poem- and failing miserably, when Evangeline offered her insight. "Well," She'd smiled at me, deep hazel eyes gazing at me with her almost surreal calm, "Why are you trying so hard to find the art? Perhaps the art will find you. You are with me in France, are you not?" Her heavily accented words sank deep within me, resonating.

Two days later after having pondered this idea for days- and quite a few low moments where I'd considered that maybe it wasn't in the cards for me to create- I decided to go to Paris.

"Ooh- see? Inspiration may lay everywhere. I will come with you and introduce you to some of my bohemian friends." Evangeline exclaimed enthusiastically, running a brush through her unruly hair. I grinned, thrilled with her reaction- and her offer.

And as we got into the carriage, the heat sweltering, she added, "And the shopping is good too- that's the most important thing."

I laughed as the coachman prodded the horses and the carriage sprang to life.

We were off the Paris once more. It would be the beginning of the end. It would lead to the start of a very beautiful romance. And it would mark the lurking shadow of fate as it spiraled down a very dark path.