Chapter 15: Good Fairy, Bad Fairy
Égalité, was the mot du jour.
The word had imprinted on Oscar's mind, stamping its seal on every thought passing through it.
Oscar Francois de Jarjayes walked the corridors of Versailles that morning a completely changed person. A change that would become irreversible in the life of this military Commandant.
How could she ever forget what she had witnessed the night before when she had followed Andre, suspecting him of a clandestine affair, only to end up at a chapel housing an assembly of people?
She had certainly not prepared herself to be amazed.
There were farmers and nobles congregating under the same roof.
"Presently, 97% of the French people are known as the Third Estate. It consists of farmers, merchants, artisans and everyone who isn't a noble. What's more, the 97% are taxed so heavily they can't even afford the day's bread. So, who uses that tax money? It's the remaining 3%, the nobility! The 97% are taxed to support a particular class, which make up only 3%! Should something like this be allowed?! I believe God has created all men equal." *
While her heart slept soundly last night in the comfort of the knowledge that Andre was not frequenting other women, something in her soul, on the other hand, had stirred, and she felt as though the invisible golden strings – which were already growing frayed - that had held her in place since she was born, had finally broken.
Even when she had stepped out of her carriage that morning, and paused momentarily, feeling the cold Northern wind in her hair, she knew that change was coming.
A new era was about to begin.
And she will need to make a choice sooner or later.
…
It was the beginning of the week, and Commandant of the Royal Guard had just completed her usual briefing with her troops and then attended the meeting with the King and military higher-ups, including her Father, to discuss the on-goings at Versailles and Paris.
Of course, the topic of the Black Knight had come up. For the first time, Oscar learned that the bandit had been distributing the gold and goods he stole to the people of Paris. This led everyone to conclude, in their haughty judgements and indignant manner, that the robber must therefore be a commoner. Someone even went as far as to suggest that he could be one of the servants at Versailles of neighbouring manors.
Oscar remained silent throughout, as she struggled to contain this feeling of dread and mounting malaise. None of this felt right to her.
In the end, though, she had to say something to satisfy their questions. She was working on it, she had assured them; she had a plan.
She exited the room with the company of her Father and two other generals. Her father dominated the conversation while she nodded absently here and there.
They finally left her alone. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, attempting to restore some sense of order to her thoughts.
It was only then that she realized that she was not, in fact, alone.
Her Lieutenant, it appeared, had lingered behind, waiting patiently for his Commandant to be released, for a moment to speak with her.
She cursed under her breath. She had not seen Victor de Girodelle since that cursed day in her office when she had been overtaken by some random folly that made her lose her mind and initiate an inappropriate gesture with her subordinate.
Yet here he was, having already approached her, speaking to her normally, going over the agenda for the day and reviewing the troops' weekly schedule and upcoming training. As if it was another usual day. As if nothing had happened between them.
And perhaps Victor did not, in reality, care too much about the kiss they shared. It might not have been to his taste, anyway. Unlike her, where every small touch or gesture seemed to invoke an avalanche of sensations and emotions, Victor probably did this on a daily basis. He had probably already been with hundreds of women and had countless mistresses.
Still, had the roles been reversed, if she were his Lieutenant and he were her commander, she would have felt used and taken advantage of. She felt ashamed of herself for using Victor in that way. She was his superior officer, after all. Wasn't that an abuse of her power?
It would not be the first time she had unconsciously wielded her privilege to her advantage. Inevitably, her thoughts drifted to Andre. Perhaps she needed to start making some changes, too.
"Victor…" she found herself saying.
He looked at her expectantly. She met his gaze momentarily before she looked away. I… I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing that evening… I didn't think of the consequences…I used you ill…
The words would not come out. She found herself swallowing them instead.
The fact that she addressed him by his first name indicated to him that she wished to speak to him of a personal matter. The red in her cheeks and her fidgety comportement said it all. She was embarrassed. Her conscience was broiling her.
He smiled to himself. His Sylphide, with her self-righteousness and code of ethics, her little experience in the ways of the world, was just endearing to him.
But she needn't apologize to him, for, unbeknownst to her, she had given him the best gift he could possibly have asked for. He would cherish the memory of their kiss for as long as he lived. He did not need an apology. He did not need pity. He did not need her to love him.
Not wanting to see her struggle anymore or drown any further in humiliation, he handed her the two parchments and said:
"Commandant, if I may obtain your signature on this form. And if you could please double check the schedule."
She looked up, turning her sparkling blue sapphires at him. He handed her a quill and she signed the paper he had asked her to.
"And this one, too," he said, giving her another one to sign. Then another.
"As for the other matter," he said, in a kinder less formal tone. "Tout est réglé."
Everything is in order, he said. He was reassuring her. You needn't worry, my Commandant.
"Victor…" her voice was barely audible. Her heart filled with gratitude and an unusual fondness for this man. He clearly cared for her, and he did not want to see her embarrass herself.
"Now," he flashed her a smile, clearing his throat. "Would you like me to release a few officers to accompany you on the night shift?"
"The… the night shift?" she had been too lost in her internal struggle to really pay attention; thus Victor's question caught her completely off-guard, bringing her sharply back to reality. She snatched the schedule from him and read it in detail, eyes wide as she registered the fact that she was assigned to the night shift for the next week or so.
"Merde," she cursed. She had no one to blame for herself, for, in her desire to escape her life, she had assigned herself the night shift for the next fortnight so she could avoid certain individuals.
Except that, things were different now. She no longer felt the need to avoid anyone. Besides, she had a rendez-vous with Andre. Well, not a rendez-vous, exactly. A mission. And she could not possibly complete this mission if she were the officer responsible for security.
"Girodelle," she addressed him. "I… I'm afraid I won't be able to take the night shifts for the next week at least."
Her Lieutenant did not seem happy about this decision, since it meant that the burden would fall on him.
"I can't explain to you the reasons why. At least, not right now. But you'll have to trust me."
He stared at her for a few seconds and then gave her a slight bow. Victor was a man born and bred for the military. Displeasing his superior officer was thus not an option.
"Of course, Commandant. I will alter the schedule, then, with your permission."
She muttered her thanks and gave him back the parchment.
To her relief, this uncomfortable interaction was finally over.
Except that, as soon as she made to leave, Victor gently pulled her back by the arm.
A startled expression took over her features, as her heart began to race. This had been already awkward enough as it was. What now…?
Before she could question herself any further, he pulled her closer to him and said to her: "If you are protecting someone, make sure it's worth it."
She turned her neck sharply to face him, her eyes as wide as her face, utterly bewildered.
She could feel her heart wanting to jump out of her chest. Did he know?! Did Victor know about Andre's disguise? It would not be the first time he had made allusions to this matter. But Victor was as sharp as a hawk and sly as a fox. So, yes, she had every reason to panic.
"I don't know what you're talk-" she began, trying to deflect.
Victor cut her off, "You need not explain anything to me."
He then tightened his grip on her arm and eliminated the distance between them such that his chest was pressed to her back.
Her breath became shallow and labored. Why was it so hard for her these days to maintain control over situations? Any degree of control! Damn you, Andre! And Victor, and Fersen! Where was the stoic and frigid Commandant when she needed her?
She felt his chin rest gently against the back of her head. He smelled like gardenias, with hints of lavender. She turned her gaze to the ground as she felt his hand move down her forearm and entwine gently with her fingers. Was he going to try and kiss her again? She wanted him to stop and yet found herself unable to move.
But Victor simply brushed a lock of her hair away from her shoulders and whispered, "You needn't worry on my account, my Commandant, I would never give you in."
She remained in place for several long minutes after he left her, wondering what on earth to make of this.
Was Victor Clement de Girodelle friend or foe?
…
Alas, there was to be little time for pondering.
"Oscar!"
Hans Axel von Fersen happened upon the stupefied commander in the corridor. Oscar quickly altered her demeanour and forced a greeting.
Fersen suggested a walk in the gardens and she agreed. She needed some air.
"I came back to the meeting hall when I realized that you had stayed behind," he confessed to her as they reached one of the gazebos in the gardens. "Then I saw you and Victor. Are you… are you alright? You look pale."
Fersen was concerned. He had witnessed the way Victor had plastered himself to Oscar and seen the bewildered look on her face when the former said something to her. And yes, Fersen had been there on purpose. He had been lurking behind one of the pillars, watching Girodelle's every move. A new hobby that he had recently acquired in the hopes of finding something out about Victor to use against him and extricate himself from the clutches of blackmail.
"Fersen…" Oscar stopped in her tracks. She glanced around her to make sure no one was watching. "I think… I think Victor knows something."
Fersen's eyes widened. He felt the sweat rolling down his chest and forehead, even though they were outside and it was almost freezing.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, startling her.
"Oscar! What did Victor say to you? Tell me at once! Did he threaten you?"
Fersen's outburst took her by surprise. He seemed to be a lot more distressed about this situation than she was. And why would he assume that Victor would threaten her?
She shook him off. "No," she said, annoyed. This was already the second time this morning that someone gave themselves the liberty to touch her person without consulting her. "Quite the opposite, actually."
She detected a sigh of relief escaping Fersen.
"So then, what did he want with you?"
"I'm not quite sure, to be honest. I can never make him out." After a pause, she continued, more softly. "But if you were able to uncover Andre's identity… well… it just worries me."
He should tell her. He should confess everything to her now. That Victor knew about Andre. That he had seen her and Fersen kiss that night. That he threatened him to tell Marie-Antoinette about their kiss. That he suspected Victor was up to something. He did not know what, but he knew it was sinister. Oscar was his dearest friend, so shouldn't he tell her the truth?
But Oscar had borne so much already. She had carried his burden and the burden of the woman he loved. She had tried to protect them. And all along, she had loved him and sacrificed her youth for him.
No, this was his burden to bear. It was his turn to protect her now.
"I would not make much of it. It's just Victor," he decided to say.
Oscar nodded. She took two steps to the railing of the gazebo, where she leaned forward, taking in the fresh cold air.
Fersen followed suit. Their elbows touched. She was fully conscious of his presence but it did not stir her in the least.
He gave her a little nudge with his shoulder. "How did your mission go, by the way?"
She glanced sideways at him. Fersen was attempting to hide a mischievous smile, which made him endearing to her. She chuckled softly, but did not answer him.
Instead, she nudged him back with her shoulder, and mirroring his expression she returned: "How was the opera?"
"It was riveting, thank you for asking," he replied, refusing to fall for her trap. You cannot conceal your feelings for long, Oscar. "And thank you for returning my maid and the dress, by the way. All in one piece."
She chuckled.
"So, did you find what you were looking for?" he pursued.
She thought long and hard.
"Maybe…" she finally said.
"And?"
"…and it wasn't what I thought."
"Ah!" Fersen exclaimed. Then, lowering himself closer to her level, he said in a low voice, "You mean you did not find Andre in the arms of a woman?"
Oscar turned sharply, glaring at him. It was becoming obvious that Fersen was amused by all of this.
But Oscar's glares did not phase Fersen. He went on, "Well, what a surprise indeed!" And then he took to laughing.
She pursed her lips and bit the inside of her mouth.
"Have you always been this obnoxious?" she wondered out loud.
Fersen nudged her playfully with his elbow again.
"You know, Oscar…"
His tone had suddenly become serious, thus capturing her attention. She turned her head to the side to face him. Only, he then broke into a grin and continued: "If you were so curious about Andre Grandier's taste in women, you could have just asked me! I know all about it."
He burst out laughing once more, and Oscar, no longer able to withhold her annoyance, delivered him a fist to the arm.
Yet, this did not seem to discourage him, his expression oscillating between wincing and laughter as he took to rubbing his arm where she hit him.
"Oscar," he said again, when he recovered himself and cleared his throat. "Forgive me," he said, trying to appease her. She gave him another glare and turned her face away.
But Fersen was not to be deterred. With his index slightly touching her chin, he turned her face towards him.
"Oscar," he said, plunging his steely grey eyes into hers. There was a hint of sadness and possibly regret that took her off guard, as he said: "I could have easily told you that Andre's ideal fantasy is a beautiful woman with stunning blonde hair. She's very kind and quite cultured as well. The sort of person who would give up anything for her beliefs, even her life. She is beautiful, but her fragrant skin is wrapped in a military uniform with gold braid. She is an ice flower, rejecting the eyes of men."**
Oscar blushed, lowering her gaze. "Fersen…"
"The question is," Fersen smiled, deflecting the attention away from him and back to the topic at hand. "Does the lady return Andre's feelings?"
Oscar flinched slightly. No one had ever referred to her as a "lady" before. She exhaled deeply and looked straight into the hedges. "I…"
Yes. The answer was yes. But she did not want the first admission of her feelings to be in front of Fersen. It was Andre who deserved to hear it first from her.
"You see, I having an inkling that she does," Fersen said quietly.
Fersen's words lingered between them for some time. Finally, Oscar exhaled and rocked herself back, gripping the rail with her two hands. "Even if you are right, I don't think my feelings make a difference in this matter."
Fersen looked at her, surprised. "Oh? Well, I should think any man in love would like nothing more than to know his feelings are reciprocated."
Oscar chuckled and shook her head. A sad smile crossing her features.
"You are awfully presumptuous about Andre…"
To Fersen's raised questioning look, she explained, "I cannot claim to be as certain as you about Andre's feelings."
Andre was becoming a man of the world. A man with ideals, with independent thought and a burning passion for a better life. He might not have been with a woman last night, but he had certainly exited her world, becoming completely unattainable to her. At least, that was how she felt during that hour she spent at the chapel. And soon, Andre might decide to leave her world altogether, and leave her behind with it. Why should he stay, anyway? Especially after everything. How could he endure loving her any longer when she had not even given him the slightest hope or made him feel that his feelings were welcome? She had been too blind all those years… and too… 'noble' to notice him. Only now did she finally realize that she represented everything that caused nothing but misery to the lives of many people. People like Andre.
"Oscar," Fersen's tone, full of kindness and sympathy, drew her back. "I cannot pretend to know what went on between you and Andre, but lest assured that a man in love does not simply 'forget' or 'stop'. And Andre is certainly not the type to be flighty."
She fidgeted uncomfortably. Fersen's small speech was giving her some hope.
"Look," he said. "If you are, indeed, unsure, there are… ways to find out."
Oscar regarded him, intrigued. "What – what do you propose?"
"For starters, you could tell him how you feel. You could simply… ask him."
Oscar knitted her eyebrows and squinted at him. Fersen chuckled. "Or not. I can see this is not a preferable option. Well, then you could perhaps… drop some hints. See how he reacts?"
"Hints?" she blinked at him.
"Yes, you know… flirt with him a little."
Her eyebrows flew up her forehead.
"And, pray, how do you suppose I do that?!" Really, Fersen was not a logical man by any means!
Fersen let out a small sigh of exasperation. "You could compliment him… or do something nice for him!"
She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I made him hot chocolate the other day-"
"Well, that is a fine start!" exclaimed Fersen in encouragement.
"Except that, he ended up making it and serving it in the end because I made a mess of it…"
"I see…"
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I did… I did kiss him!"
"And?" Fersen became excited at this admission. So, there was hope after all! "How did he react?"
Oscar stroked her chin. "Difficult to say… he was quite unconscious…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Oscar!"
Fersen rubbed his temples.
"This wasn't exactly part of my training, Fersen!" she defended herself.
Fersen exhaled and put his hands together as he plunged her gaze in hers. "Alright, mon amie, listen carefully… here is what you can do… but first and foremost, no more disguises…"
Author's Note:
* This scene is lifted verbatim from the subtitled anime (Episode 26). In fact, while rewatching this episode recently, I realized that the entire events of this fanfic are contained to Episode 26 lol! In the anime, Andre tells Oscar "prepare to be amazed" before they enter the chapel. Of course, here Andre doesn't know that Oscar is attending the assembly, but I wanted to include that line anyway (:
** Fersen's speech is lifted verbatim from the English translation of the manga. It is taken from the scene when Oscar dresses up and goes to the ball to dance with Fersen. He tells her this because he suspects it's her (I mean, really, how could he not know her?!)
As always, thank you for your continued support! I've been ill this past while so I hope you'll forgive the shortness of this chapter and any defects (: