When Spring Died

Chapter Four

The Marseille Palace was nearly blinding to look at in the noonday sun. Fashioned of marble and limestone, it gleamed so brightly and magnificently that one would think a star from the night sky had crashed into the earth, smoldering and glowing, and now royalty just happened to live there. It was hard to remember when exactly it had been built, but so long as it did not change, nobody minded. The palace had but one purpose: to be beautiful and remain as such forever.

It succeeded too, in a way that was a dizzying eclecticism of art. The exterior was littered symmetrically with arched windows, each one framed in hand-carved sculptures of marble and gold depicting intricate flowers and scrollwork. Columns and statuettes of angels draped in gauze and coiffed maidens with flowers in their hair holding garlands in their hands stood immobile and majestic carved into the marble facade and beside the windows. The mansard roof fashioned out of bronze tiles, so old that they had tarnished to turquoise, sloped up grandly to give way to cupolas and spires in a dizzying display of wealth.

Ivette did not so much as blink at the palace's opulence as Étienne led her down its sweeping marble steps to the waiting carriage. She shielded her eyes from the sun, gazing across the broad avenue flanked by flowerbeds of roses and manicured lawns. A stretch of lake provided a spot of blue, crystalline and still, ornamented with fountains and lined with trees.

"You won't reconsider?" Étienne said quietly, punctuating the stillness.

Ivette lifted her skirts a little so she would not trip on the stairs. "I will not."

"I thought so." He frowned a little, his eyes maintaining their flat stagnation.

"It will be alright," she reassured him. "I have Genevieve with me, and I will return before you even realize I'm gone."

Étienne's look said clearly that that might not be the case, that his worst fears might come to pass. But he did not vocalize them, for which Ivette was grateful. She wasn't sure how she would bear his protests just minutes before she left.

They reached the carriage, Genevieve already inside upon Ivette's request. Therese had been adamant that Genevieve was not the ideal choice for the trip to the cathedral, but Genevieve had wanted so badly to go, and Therese and Camille had already gone twice. It was quite the opportunity for a lady-in-waiting, being alone with the queen. One might seek out a closer friendship and the opportunity to serve the queen alone was not to be slighted.

"I may never get another chance! I may be dead the next year," Genevieve had said. "I've never been outside Marseille. Oh, please, Your Majesty? I will do everything right!"

And Ivette had not the heart to tell her no.

A footman opened the carriage door for Ivette, and Étienne did not release her hand until she had climbed inside. Genevieve sat across from her, all peach-colored silk and smiles.
The door clicked shut, abnormally loud to Ivette. She leaned out the carriage window to better look at her fiancé.

"You worry too much, Étienne," she whispered to him.

He took a step closer, reaching forward to caress the loose curls that framed her face. His fingers were smooth and cool, like the marble walls of the palace. Ivette leaned farther out the window and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

For a brief moment after she pulled away, she could've sworn he would really and truly kiss her farewell on the mouth. He moved to rest his hand on the edge of the window, inclined his head. But then he paused and a breath caught between them. He turned away.

"Hurry back," he murmured, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

The moment passed so quickly that Ivette had to blink a few times to clear up the image she'd conjured in her head of Étienne looking her in the eye for longer than a few strained seconds before kissing her goodbye. But that was foolish. What need did she have of him to kiss her? And in front of Genevieve too. He seldom touched her even when they were alone, so expecting that was expecting too much. At least he'd looked like he'd wanted to kiss her.