Fate/Romantic
Author's note: Romantic, in the case of the title of this work, refers to the Romantic writing and art movement that thrived between 1770 and 1850. Though romance between people may certainly play a part in the proceedings, in this case the reference is specifically to the romantic stories written by Alexandre Dumas.
With that in mind:
Mesdames, Messieurs, bonjour. Welcome to our tale of heroes, villains, victory, defeat, gallantry, and an overflowing desire to live.
Chapter 1.
The Sisters Saint-Hermine
I.
"Right here will do fine driver." Camille stretched her arm between the driver and where Louise was seated in the front passenger seat to point to the building coming up on the right. There was a tone of authority to her voice that Camille always used. No matter how calm the moment, or unfamiliar her surroundings, Camille always kept her composure, and spoke with a natural air of command. It was as if she was born to lead, and the way she had spent her childhood had tempered that natural instinct to perfection.
Louise was similar, but more in control of her emotions. Though she had spent her childhood alongside her adoptive sister learning everything required of a prospective head of the family, she had not made such assertive dominance an inseparable part of her being. She was content to let others do as they would please until the last moment when she would need to exert command over them. Perhaps that more subdued side of her came from not being born into the family.
"I-I-I-don't see any parking Miss. Hrmmm, are you sure I can just park here?" The driver seemed to be having difficulty realizing that when Camille wanted something done, it was best to simply follow her instructions without question.
Camille's green eyes burned with a barely contained fury at being questioned, and she ran her hand through her short blonde hair as she always did when she was becoming annoyed. Perhaps the long trip was finally wearing her down, Louise had seen her this annoyed without such a catalyst plenty of times. "Perhaps you are to old and blind to see the clearly empty area of curb right there." The last word was emphasized with an aggressive jab of Camille's finger toward the spot. "You're only going to be there a minute to drop us off. It will hardly inconvenience anyone. Now pull over you lackey." Louise sighed to herself as Camille berated the driver. She always turned her head and tried to ignore it whenever Camille got caught up railing at someone whom she perceived as having dared doubt her. As the only daughters of an old; and illustrious mage family they were technically of a higher station than many, and Camille had very much internalized this fact.
The driver pulled over to the side of the street as much as he could. The few passers-by on the sidewalk paid the car no mind, though a few of the other drivers on the narrow road seemed less than pleased with the choice of parking made by the hapless driver. "Please wait here monsieur. My sister and I will retrieve our luggage from the back." Louise tried to inject a tone of understanding into her words in an attempt to ask the driver to forgive her sister's behavior. He seemed to recognize the sentiment and nodded to her with a nervous smile.
She was a young woman of twenty-five, with Camille, the true daughter of the family being her elder by three years. Though Louise was ignorant of her birth family, her dark-sepia skin, black hair with it's tight curls, and prominent cheekbones showed she may owe her heritage to a Hausa bloodline from northern Nigeria. The adoptive daughter kept her long black hair tied back in a large braid, a thick white hairband, the same shade as her outfit, further accenting her dark locks. Camille by contrast had a pale, almost sunless, peach complexion that marked her out as a native born of their hometown of Gordes. That combined with her sharp angular facial features left no doubt as to her belonging to the Saint-Hermine bloodline. Her faded blonde hair was cut particularly short, with no hair hanging down the back at all, the only length being her bangs that naturally swept to the left and would sometimes just touch her green eyes. Both daughters wore the flat white uniform of the Saint-Hermine family, the high collar and buttoned sleeves feeling oppressive and choking on the neck and wrists respectively. No matter how much Louise had worn it she never got used to the feeling of limited mobility. The pants always felt like they would bust if she didn't stand completely straight up at all times, and the high boots had refused to break in, and constantly threatened to blister her heels. She had worn it when they departed to assuage her father, but now that they had safely arrived in Paris she planned to change out of the uniform at the first possible opportunity.
"Really Louise you're far too indulgent, even with your servant back home." Camille slammed the trunk of the car closed after placing her luggage on the curb and dismissed the driver with a pompous wave of her hand.
"Well, Luca has always been so good to me that there was no need to be haughty with her." Thinking about her attendant made Louise begin to miss her terribly. She waved to the driver as he departed and he returned the gesture with an enthusiastic wave of his own hand through the open car window as he pulled away. "Besides dear sister, all the members of the household appreciate your real feelings for them."
Camille blushed at the implication of her having any sort of softness for anyone. She quickly tried to change the subject. "Come along, I want to get to our room and get out of this awful uniform. Why the family had them designed this way I'll never know."
Though the streets were relatively busy, there were very few foot-bound Parisians out and about on the gloomy February afternoon. With imposing clouds hung overhead, Louise was thankful that no rain was falling. She took in the scene around her, the few locals who they encountered waved or nodded friendly greetings to the two young women as they passed. Louise at first thought the myriad trees planted on the medians, sidewalks, and nearby traffic circle would clash with the multitude of tall buildings and other urban elements all around, however she found the natural and man-made elements of Paris had a way of flowing together and harmonizing in a very pleasing manner. The trees would draw the eye upward, and the old buildings in whose shadow they grew became the eye's focal point afterward.
Louise had spent her entire life up to this point in Gordes. The more rural town and its exclusively stone construction drew a hard contrast with Paris. She had spent her childhood staring out at the valley below from all the vantage points the sheer verticality of a town built up a stone hillside provided. Gordes had done everything it could to hold onto it's more traditional feel, complete with having all telephone and utility wires placed underground so as not to obscure the skyline. As a result, the comparatively more modernized, extra urban feeling of Paris had a slightly off-putting effect on her at first. She slowly started to notice small touches that made her feel more comfortable though. Small flower boxes in windows were plentiful enough, and the friendly aura of the small local businesses she passed hearkened her back to home. Both girls would have to adjust quickly to Paris, as their stay would be at least somewhat extended.
II.
Arriving at the Hotel de Cheval Peint, Camille was quick to reapply her self-perceived authority to great effect. A hotel wait staff, all of whom had never met the upstart mage, were amazingly quick to submit to her whims. Her confidence and authority were apparent and a powerful commodity that Louise was willing to benefit from. She found herself in a rather aloof cheery mood as the sisters settled into their room and changed out of the stuffy family uniforms. When she looked over and saw the perturbed look on her sister's face she felt a cloud come over the room, and her own mood started to turn detached. The entire journey to Paris had been jovial, and filled with the familiar banter the sisters usually enjoyed in each other's company. However, now that they had arrived at their destination, Camille and Louise would soon have to face the more somber reality of the imminent future. They had both tried to ignore it, Louise in daydreaming, Camille in distracting herself with abusing hapless service employees. Louise got up off the bed she had claimed as her own in the posh room they had reserved and stood next to Camille who was staring out the third-story window at the city below. Louise put her arms around her sibling's shoulders and hugged her reassuringly.
"Its not worth worrying over dear sister. It is as father wishes, and is a tried and true method of proving one's worth as a mage. Whatever fate awaits us at the end of this road, we will inevitably face together-"
"Even if together in opposition. You are my sister, and soon I must call you enemy."
"Father taught us always to hold our status as mages first, our role as representatives of the Saint-Hermine family second, and our duty to ourselves third." Louise released Camille and straightened her black knee length skirt in the mirror as she continued. "Everything else, every other relationship, every other desire, comes last."
"You quote him so well." Camille discarded the hat she was fiddling with onto the ornate armoire in the corner of the room, the antique carvings of which matched the rest of the elegant gaudy furniture in the room. "And you truly have no reservations about the combat to come? You have always been the soft one." Camille was astonished to find Louise suddenly more composed than herself, and she launched biting accusations in an attempt to throw her sister off balance.
"Never mistake my empathy for others for weakness Cammy. I am completely at peace with what is to come and what I must do. Even with our... inescapable engagement." the lies tasted awful in Louise's mouth, and she only hoped that her stuttered speech did not expose a lack of confidence in what she said to Camille. She had even less confidence now that Camille had admitted even she was distraught. The elder sister had always been the pillar of strength between them, and Louise felt a distinct loss of certainty at knowing she lacked the necessary tenacity as well.
"No matter." Camille buttoned the violet vest she had settled on over her white blouse, smoothed out her tan capris, and unfolded her sunglasses. "Tomorrow we shall see the priest and everything will be set into motion whether I am prepared or not. Come along Louise. I suddenly find these apartments oppressive. Perhaps some food will help me put my thoughts in order."
Louise grabbed her black jacket off the bed and, throwing it over her white button down shirt, rushed out the door after Camille. The idea of a meal and some coffee comforted her and promised a distraction from the somber feelings both of them were combating.
III.
Out on the streets of Paris and out of the constraints of the family uniform Louise found it a little easier to breathe and relax. She had not noticed the somewhat lower temperature when they had arrived and was now a little regretful of that she had not chosen a little differently on her attire. Her leather jacket that has always been her favorite, despite her father's misgivings about the garment, kept her warm enough, but she lamented not pairing some long socks or tights with the skirt. Camille's feelings on the chill, if she had any, were impossible to read between her sunglasses and usual unflappable demeanor.
The girls had immediately found a small, friendly cafe at which they could sit and relax. The Bistro de la Rue Bobillot had a history of being warm and welcoming. When Monsieur Biscarros had opened the cafe at the age of 27 he had known only how to bake the simplest of pastries and how to brew what he considered one of the best cups of coffee in the southern quarter of Paris. Fortunately for him the locals agreed and he was soon able to expand his 28 square meter hole in the wall into a full on bistro 3 times that size. As his shop grew so did his own personal repertoire of cakes, confections, and coffees. He was able to hire a cook by the name of Albert, and as a result, expanded the offerings of his bistro further. The sisters Saint-Hermine had arrived at his door at what was usually a much less busy time, which was fortunate for them as his busy hours were always uncomfortably crowded, and if a patron wanted a table it was a nigh-impossibility. Camille and Louis took a seat at one of the outside tables and Camille, making eye contact with Monsieur Biscarros, signaled that they would be needing menus and refreshments.
Monsieur Biscarros was in his late fifties, and though the age showed in his features, his face also showed a man still beaming with pride and optimism. His shoulder length graying black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep it safely out of the way when he was baking. His apron, arms, and to an extent his wrinkled cheeks, all had differing amounts of flour present. When he started out in the baking business he had tried desperately to clean off the bothersome powder, but as the years went on he had resigned himself to its presence and stopped attempting to brush it off.
"Mesdames, welcome to my humble bistro. I hope today that I can treat you to something special to suit your palettes. I don't recognize you from around the neighborhood. Traveling from abroad perhaps?" Biscarros handed the ladies menus as he spoke. He had always prided himself on being able to remember a face, and at being able to make small talk with guests.
"We are, in fact, good sir." Louise replied. "My sister and I only just arrived in town."
"Well you have a made a most excellent choice to sit and dine with me today. I think I can guess where you are from. If it does not offend."
"Go right ahead sir." Louise was curious to see how capable the baker's deductive abilities were. She was continuing to look at the excited owner as she absentmindedly set her purse on the ground next to her.
"I can tell right away that you are not from anywhere near Paris. This is your first time visiting my establishment, and if you lived close enough to visit the city even semi-regularly you would have already stopped in to eat with me. Next, your French is far to good, for you to be from out of the country, so you must at least be fellow countrywomen. How am I doing?"
"You have shown yourself to be quite capable monsieur." Louise was enjoying Biscarros's little game and was eager to see how close he could guess.
"Well, even without all that I could have immediately guessed you are from Provence. It is no slight dear girl, but your accent is so strong and gives you away immediately."
Louise had to giggle at this point, and even Camille smiled in spite of herself. "I suppose that, in hindsight, that would mark us out rather plainly. I do appreciate the build up though Monsieur."
"Ah, but I am not finished. Provence is large and there are oh so many towns from which you could hail. I ask that you let me attempt the hardest part, and finish what I started."
"Very well monsieur, you have my undivided attention. Though I warn you that I shall not be giving any more hints if I can help it."
"I've all the information I need right in front of me. You are both fashionable young women. Ladies of means, and quite possibly wealth, I gather all this simply from how well put together the both of you are. And you my dear, though I have heard little from your sister I have no doubt she is just as well-spoken. And if one has money, manners, means, and hails from Provence, well then they simply must be from-"
"Gordes." Louise's head snapped around at the sound of the unknown person standing behind her. Camille and Biscarros's gazes were also immediately directed to the newcomer. The sad blue eyes staring out from his russet brown face clashed with the pleasant smile he presented to Louise. With one hand he straightened his short, slicked back black hair, and with the other he held out Louise's purse to her, the diamond cuff link and designer Swiss watch visible on his wrist. His sharp nose and prominent chin were accented perfectly by his light mustache and trimmed brows. An air of aristocracy permeated him; from the fitted black cotton turtleneck and the charcoal suit jacket, to the custom-made Italian leather dress shoes that he simply wore out and about, the man was clearly of the upper-crust, at least in appearance. Though he dressed in clothes made specifically for him, it looked as though they had been picked not by himself, but by another for him to wear.
"It seems your belongings had made their way out into the sidewalk. It would have been a terrible shame if someone less reputable happened upon them. Fortunately it was I who arrived first. Here you are Madame." The man accompanied his words by handing Louise's purse to her, his arm was confident, yet bizarrely stiff, as if the suit, though perfectly fitted to his body made him somewhat uncomfortable.
"I see we have a true gentleman in our company. You have all the manners a man could ask for. And a fortunate to match perhaps." Biscarros let out a loud laugh to punctuate his compliment of the mystery man.
"A true gentleman would take care to introduce himself to a lady whom he has bothered to impose upon." Camille injected venom into her words, the entire time never bothering to look from the menu, denying him even so much as a glance. Camille had always resented anyone who put up such a front of privilege and wealth, an irony that Louise had always noted.
"Oh, of course. Ha, oh, yes, how incredibly rude of me. I meant no imposition. Please, allow me to start over. I am Ali Bertuccio. I am recently arrived in Paris, and I hail from the south-west of the country. My family are, well, land owners of considerable note. I took over a portion of the family business and have come to Paris for some negotiations on expansion with old business partners." Ali continuously paused and looked down as he gave the overlong introduction that seemed to make him feel as awkward as the speech itself was. Louise could not help but chuckle at the awkward fellow. His clearly rehearsed introduction, the clothes that must have been picked and bought for him by his wealthy parents, and his earnest manner made him feel very genuine. He had an innocence that she had not gotten to interact with much in her strict upbringing.
"I thank you for retrieving my purse for me Monsieur Bertuccio, and for the formal introduction my sister insisted on. I would be honored if, as way of thanks, you would join us for lunch." Louise gestured to the seat between Camille and herself as she invited Ali to sit. "Unless of course you don't have the time, being busy as I'm sure you are." Camille slapped her menu on the table as Louise continued to indulge the young man.
"Master Biscarros I do believe I have settled on lunch. The gruyere and prosciutto omelet will suit me, along with some of your, 'famous,' coffee."
"An excellent choice madame. You shall not be disappointed. I made my name, nay, my whole bistro on that coffee. And you miss?" Biscarros said directing his attention to Louise. "Has anything by chance caught your eye?"
"Your tarte tropezienne sounds lovely monsieur. A cup of coffee for me as well."
"And as I plan to take the young lady up on her offer, I think I would also enjoy a cup of your house brew."
"Excellent!" Biscarros clapped his hands together to punctuate his excitement. "Shall I bring you a menu?"
"No that's alright, you seem to have an extensive selection of baked goods and pastries. Do you happen to have financiers in your repertoire?"
"Only the best that you will have in the whole region! I am giving the three of you quite a treat today. Master Biscarros is going to spoil you!" Scooping up the menus, the baker headed back to the kitchen with a huge smile on his face, beaming with a deep pride in his own work.
" A lively character to be sure." Ali fiddled with his chair as he watched Biscarros go. Louise noted the way he constantly seemed to be straightening his suit jacket as he sat. "I have introduced myself. Perhaps now I could receive the same consideration from you ladies."
"Of course monsieur. This is my older sister Camille, and I am Louise Sain-" Here Camille suddenly cut her off.
"Camille and Louise suits us just fine. Monsieur Bertuccio has no reason to pry and so will be satisfied with that." Louise tried to understand the aggression in Camille's behavior, but failed to find an explanation in her sister's eyes.
"Completely satisfied. And please, I am also happy to set formality aside, you may call me Ali. I can understand the need to travel incognito. I have an acquaintance who has always insisted on it. I can't really understand his thinking. Though occasionally we must sometimes keep to ourselves, I cannot understand the point of traveling to places and meeting others if we cannot connect as two people who now know each other in a truly personal and intimate manner."
"A very deep manner of conversation to have upon a first meeting don't you think Ali?" Biscarros had returned with coffee at this point and Louise sipped at hers as she questioned the young man.
"Not at all. You are both clearly intelligent young women, who are not intimidated by a simple clerk like myself or by more meaningful conversation. I would dare say that, knowing what I do about you, though that may be little and simply things that I gleaned from Master Biscarros's own little guessing game, I can safely assume you would likely best me in the arena of direct and pointed conversation. You are ladies of culture, and of a truly privileged upbringing, so I can safely trust myself to skip the frivolities of small talk and the weather while sharing your time you have been so gracious to grant me. And, as it has been pointed out, you are attempting to avoid much undo attention while you are abroad, so it would only be polite of me at this juncture to avoid questions or topics that pry to much into your personal lives." The entire time Ali spoke he nervously fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket or pulled at the high collar of his sweater.
"Bravo monsieur. I do believe I have underestimated you. You have a far more advanced philosophy than I gave you credit for. In that case I will follow your original line of conversation with an admission of my own. This is my first time leaving Provence, my first time even being much further than a few towns over from our home in Gordes, so I have little in the way of experience when it comes to meeting new people and forming bonds and relationships with strangers whom I have met while traveling. I can promise you though that it was absolutely my intention to make new acquaintances while away from home and I hope that many of those are quick to become close, personal relationships." Louise offered a pleasant smile to emphasize the kind, honest manner she was trying to carry with her words.
"Vagaries. But telling nonetheless. I appreciate your willingness to be honest with me to the extent you are able." Ali paused, waiting to see if Camille was going to interject again here, but she was pretending to flip through a small paperback she kept in her purse as she listened intently to the conversation in case she needed to interject, without being an active participant. "I dare say there is likely to be some sort of profit gained in your trip here. And I would go further to say that you have some very particular people in mind for the acquaintances you plan to make and don't plan to give that part to chance."
"I would say you are quite correct. However despite that, it would seem that chance has been kind enough to grant me a meeting most unplanned for here today." Here Louise raised her coffee to Ali in acknowledgment. Ali returned the gesture with his own beverage.
"Chance sometimes has far less to do with things than we think madame." At these ominous words Biscarros reappeared, his arms laden with food. Before Louise could question Ali any further, the patissier was demanding everyone's attention as he always did when he arrived.
"I have promised you a delightful meal and it has arrived. No one will be disappointed I assure you. Is there anything else I can bring the young people?"
"Everything looks quite satisfactory monsieur thank you." Though her words sounded dismissive Camille had a hungry, and eager look in her eyes that Biscarros immediately recognized.
"Bahaha! In that case I leave you all to it. Remember the rules of Biscarros. Do not rush, savor every bite, and enjoy the food and company you can always find under my roof. I will return in some time to check in." With a bow and a flourish he departed, leaving the trio to indulge in their lunch.
Suddenly faced with the fluffy and moist cake she had ordered Louise realized how hungry she was and soon forgot what she was going to ask Ali about. They all ate in relative silence, Louise lost in her tarte, Ali in his thoughts, and Camille barely holding herself back from devouring her omelet with all available speed. Had she only been in her sister's company Camille was never shy about indulging fully in any meal. However, etiquette took over when in the company of strangers and she was forced to dejectedly eat her meal in a more polite and refined manner.
As they finished, Biscarros returned with expert timing to gauge his guests satisfaction and distribute the checks. "I do not have to ask, as I know already the quality of my trade, but I will humor tradition. I trust everyone found the food to their satisfaction?"
"The tarte was delightful monsieur. And your coffee does indeed do your faith in it proud. From what I can tell monsieur Ali was quite taken with his financiers as well." Ali blushed slightly at this, worried he had been less than delicate in his enjoyment of the pastries.
"I must say monsieur Biscarros, as excessive as your boasting may be, your fare truly manages to live up to the reputation you have built for yourself." Camille sipped more of her coffee as she offered what was, for her, a warm and sincere compliment. Biscarros once again let out a hearty laugh.
"Excellent. Your praise is always welcome here. And though I am satisfied to be paid personally in your lovely sentiments, my staff has insisted lately on monetary payment. I have assumed two separate bills for the new friends?"
"Not necessary Master Biscarros." Louise was caught off guard as Ali cut in so abruptly. "I will cover everything." Here he stretched out a black credit card to the baker, as if to imply he would pay all the expense without so much as looking at what was owed.
"Unacceptable Monsieur Bertuccio. Though my younger sister has been kind enough to extend you every indulgence until now, I refuse to be put in the debt of a man who I barely know and have only just met." Louise immediately recognized the family pride in Camille's commanding words.
"I promise you madame no insult is meant. I am the one who imposed on your luncheon and simply wish to provide some sort of repayment of the abundant kindness I have found at your table."
"And I am informing you that it is in the poorest of taste. You owe my sister nothing though she was kind enough to indulge you, and you certainly owe me no favors as I only tolerated your presence." Ali was quite taken aback by this harsh treatment and seemed about to lose his temper when Biscarros interjected.
"Now this will not do, not in my business. Such relations should not settle on the excellent food you've just shared. Here, as proprietor I will insist on taking the gentleman's payment. He is repaying a good deed done to him, and I personally support a young man of standing paying for good treatment of two young ladies." Camille scoffed at this outdated mindset and shot up out of her seat. Throwing her napkin down on the table she turned to Louise.
"Do as you will. Louise! Come along, I need a walk to clear my head, and to put space between myself and these antiquated 'gentlemen' as they say." Louise got up to follow her sister. She gave Ali a look meant to communicate that, while she was grateful for the intended favor, she had to agree with her sister on not favoring the manner in which it was carried out. Ali had a look that displayed both his confusion and hurt sensibilities, but also a feeling of understanding. He offered an awkward wave to Louise as she parted, and then continued to exchange some words with Biscarros.
As the sisters put some distance between themselves and the bistro Camille's attitude seemed to improve. A small smile appeared on her lips as she picked up her step and turned toward Louise. "Well now that those unpleasant fellows are behind us, let us make the most of our remaining day. There is still much of Paris to see before nightfall." Louise liked to hear the renewed optimism in her sister's voice and offered her own smile in return.