A/N: I finally had time to write this chapter. Yay! Obviously Steff hasn't given Cole the letter at the end yet, but I wanted to have it written out for when she does. :)

Stepping out of the Marseille Institute, Steff couldn't help but feel a little disheartened. Of course, she couldn't expect to find Cole at the first Institute in France that she visited. It had been a nice thought, however. Pulling out a notebook and pen from her bag, she crossed out the Marseille Institute from her list of French Institutes, before slipping it back inside. There was still quite a number to go to, yet.

The Marseille Institute had been her first stop as it was the easiest for her to find a Portal to. She knew Cole had spent some of his childhood there, but that it would be unlikely to be his new place of residence, as some may recognise him. Still, she thought it was worth a try. He'd only given two small hints as to his location in his letter. He had implied that the city was small, and that the Head of the Institute had helped him. Marseille certainly hadn't been her top guess, since she'd read that it was the second-largest city of France. The Institute Head may have been more sympathetic towards him, however. When she'd looked inside the Institute, she'd tried to imagine what Cole had thought of it when he was younger. She certainly couldn't imagine how hard it must have been moving so many different places, many of which had different languages.

As she walked down the steps, she glanced up at the sky as it started to rain, with a sigh. She had brought her umbrella at least, and she stopped to take it out of her bag and put it up. No one who had grown up in England would forget to take one when travelling. Continuing on, she wheeled her small suitcase behind her. She had few belongings, and the heaviest items were her books. She couldn't bear to leave her favourites behind, and she liked the idea of reading them near the Eiffel Tower, when she got to Paris. Once she had finished looking around Marseille, she planned on travelling to stay at the Paris Institute for a few days. Of course, she knew Cole wouldn't be staying there, for it was much too big and populated, but she'd always wanted to see it, and she knew this might be her only chance.

When she reached a more populated road, she hailed a taxi, before getting in. Trying to tell the driver where she wanted to go, she realised in dismay that either he did not speak English, or he couldn't understand her accent. Luckily, she had an old phone that someone had given her, and she used the translation app to help. Nodding, the taxi driver then indicated, before starting to drive. There was one more place in Marseille that she wanted to visit before she left. The Count of Monte Cristo was one of the classic books that she'd read a long time ago, and she couldn't pass up the chance to see the Château d'If. It was used as the jail where the Count of Monte Cristo spent over a decade before escaping. The place was a perfect example of the effect that books could have. It was a work of fiction, but the Château became famous because of it, and one of the former cells had been designated to be the one where the Count was held, despite the fact that the man had never really existed at all.

She liked the thought of that – that people were so invested in such a thing – and she smiled as she glanced out the window, watching the scenery. After that short detour, she would stop at a few more places along the road to Paris. From there, she would continue her search of the French Institutes, focusing particularly on ones in the smaller cities.

She was determined to find him, no matter how long it took.

Nikolai,

'You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.'

I know you will not appreciate this verse as I do, but I wrote it anyway, as this book has always been dear to my heart. I hope that maybe one day, you will come to like it.

More than anything, I am glad to hear the news about your health. I never could bring myself to accept that fact that you would have to die at such a young age. I cannot believe that fate would be quite so cruel. I hope that you will view this as a second chance. Even if you regretted some of your choices in the past, you still have time to make up for them. You claim that we are not friends, but I am the only one you have to write and express your thoughts to. I think that counts for something.

It is good that you have been learning about your family and history. You have lived in many more places than I could ever imagine visiting. I find it interesting that your parents may have been from somewhere in the U.K. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. I would like to learn your parent's names one day.

Just as I am sure that this experience has changed you, so too am I changed. I am no longer the shy, scared little girl that I once was. I no longer feel the need to hide away or to braid my hair so tightly to escape the gaze of others. I am learning what it means to be a Shadowhunter, and maybe I can work to restore my family's name after the damage it has received. We have a good history from the past, I think, even if as of late, we are not regarded in such an esteemed way.

I was more than happy to receive a letter from you, although I find it unfair that you give me no way to reply. I refuse to let you have the last say, even if I have to travel to every Institute in France just to find you and deliver this letter. After all, 'the distance is nothing when one has a motive.' Besides, this journey will be good for me, I think. Paris is a place I have always wanted to visit and yes, I know that is heavily influenced by the books I read. I have always had a romantic view of it, especially as it is known as the City of Love. I know you will find that ridiculous. But I would like to experience it myself, regardless of whether I will be disappointed or not.

I hope this letter finds its way into your hands,

Elizabeth Bennet