I Followed Fires

XXXVIII. Adèle

The idea of an evening stroll was exactly what she needed at the moment.

Sure, the wine helped her ease her troubles, but what she really needed was a friend. Although there were those who accompanied her through weeks of her stay in French court, such as Greer, Mary's other ladies-in-waiting (excluding Kenna, of course), Bash, her little brothers, and several servants she grew fond of, what she needed was the right person who did not fully know her, but is able to understand her troubles. Fortunately, that is exactly how she thought of Stéphane. And so, they paced together through the wide corridors lit by the flames of the torches that hung on the walls. They chatted for as long they could, before the wedding ceremony began. Whatever little time they had left, it was to share to each other about their new lives. Adèle avoided talking about herself, and especially about Bash, a sensitive topic she did not want to speak of with Stéphane, or with anyone for that matter. But this did not stop her from having a pleasant time, as they exchanged laughter and gleeful smiles as they once did when they were children.

"You asked me if I was married yet," said Stéphane, with his hands behind his back and pacing in a slow speed, allowing himself and Adèle to enjoy their small talk. "And I am not, I have stated before. Although my father plans to marry me off to a Spanish noble, because he is not a man who believes in marriage that we made out of love."

"An arranged marriage is an.. interesting proposition," When she spoke this, Adèle looked away from his face and glanced at the ground, as her smile wiped off her face. But she quickly returned to her normal self and did not want him to suspect anything. "Most couples we know nowadays were once strangers, but an arranged marriage changes all that."

"I agree," Stéphane nodded. "But I have to yet meet the young Spanish noble. My father has given me several names, but I have not been fully acquainted with all of them yet. Are you married, Adèle?"

She looked at him with a strange look on her face. It was an expression that showed she, no doubt, was concealing a secret from him. "No," she replied shortly. "I am not married. My parents, they do not want me to rush to marriage so quickly."

"Your parents are liberals then," Stéphane chuckled. "I have longed to see Aix-en-Provence, again." He said, changing the topic of the conversation.

"I should hope you do, for my mother and father have not seen you for quite a long time, and you knew that our parents were great friends once. I have the fondest memories of my childhood, but I am afraid I have forgotten most of them."

"The remaining memories I have of my childhood are all of you, Adèle." As soon as he stated this to her, Adèle's cheeks went blushing red. She was not one who received compliments well, as she often responded with flustered cheeks or a small smile that was barely noticeable. But this time, she replied with a thank you, spoken with a small, childlike voice. She displayed her shyness in front of him, as usual, but he did not seem to mind.

They perceived sounds of a boisterous crowd dancing to a fast-paced tune played by a group of musicians that rung throughout the walls of the corridors. These sounds indicated that the feast has not yet ceased, for they knew the members of French court indulged in parties a little too much at times. Adèle admitted that Kenna is a very gifted hostess, and is able to hold parties that are like no other. Although she was not one for parties herself, Adèle did find their wedding feast quite pleasing; despite having to be the third party in a love triangle she did not want to be in. Adèle and Stéphane paced slowly towards the window that let the cool air of the night surge into the hallways. He leaned against the wall, whilst Adèle preferred to look at the stars that glittered in the canvas of darkness of the night sky.

"Do you remember when we were children, and you despised lemon cakes? You refused to eat them so much that every time your mother had them as dessert for our gatherings, you used to spit them out on to the ground?" Stéphane chuckled, teasing her with god-awful childhood memories that she chose to forget than remember.

"That was when I was a young girl," she replied. "I grew to like lemon cakes now."

"Do you really?" he asked, even though she knew that he did not believe her. "Very well then. I am sure that the wedding feast serves lemon cakes. After this, we shall see if you have truly grown to like them and have a bite or two,"

"Fine, I'll admit I still loathe lemon cakes and I have never understood why members of French court, and my family as well, likes them so much."

"If you still loathe them, would you still spit them out as you did?"

"Of course not," she laughed in response. "I think I have a little bit more manners than when I was a child, Stéphane. At least that is how I like to think of it,"

"But you have managed to maintain that shyness of yours throughout the years,"

Adèle gave a heavy sigh. "I know," she said, with a bit of embarrassment in her tone. "It gets a little bit irritating sometimes, but I have learned how to handle it carefully."

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, Adèle. The bravest people are the shiest, for they are the ones who are able to build up confidence and courage from nothing, and that is how I like to think of it. Do you agree?"

Adèle giggled instead of showing that she had agreed to his statement. Stéphane, puzzled, asked her, "What are you giggling at?"

"Nothing," she said. "I was just remembering how your brother used to knock you on your head when you attempted to say such wise, philosophical things when were children. But your mother walked in as soon as he hit you on the head, and you came to her in tears, and blamed everything on your brother as usual. And so it seems, to me, that the wisest, and the most intelligent of people are the weakest, am I correct?" Adèle smirked.

"I was a child," He gave a light chuckle, to ensure that he did not take her response so sensitively. "And if you had a brother who hit you on the head as hard as he did, you would come crying to your mother as well, Adèle."

They shared a small giggle, when a third party entered the corridor. It was not a guard, nor a servant but the person Adèle wanted to see the least out of all the members of French court.

It was Bash, for sure.

He approached them, and walked in very quick steps. It seems, to her, that he was eager to join in their conversation. It was such a typical behaviour of him chiming into her conversations with other people other than him that she had learned to tolerate it, but it still annoyed her, much like most of the things he did when they stood in the same room. Bash greeted them with a warm smile.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" asked Bash, as Adèle tried not to roll her eyes in front of him and Stéphane.

"Stéphane, this is Sebastian de Poitiers, or Bash for short. He is the man who is going to be married tonight, it seems," she turned her eyes to him and smirked. Bash shook his hands with Stéphane out of politeness.

"You two look very caught up in your conversation and I grew quite curious as to what you were so busy talking about," Bash said. Adèle, once again, tried not to roll her eyes, or elbow him, or nudge him lightly to tell him that whatever he is doing, he should stop immediately.

"We were just reminiscing about our childhood years. We grew up together, you see," said Stéphane.

Bash's face turned grave, and there was a forced smile that wore on his lips. "You are very close?"

"Well, we were once as children," Adèle replied, then averted her gaze to Stéphane and smiled. "We spent most of our childhood together, until his family unfortunately left Aix-en-Provence, after we both turned nine years old,"

"Although our families still maintains its business ties. Our parents are the ones who often communicate with each other, but we rarely do." Stéphane said. "It is a pleasant sight to see old friends reunited, isn't it?"

Bash nodded along, but Adèle could see that it was paining him with jealousy. Stéphane unexpectedly had to leave, for a servant has just notified him that he has received a letter from his mother, which was now in his bedchambers, and then proceeded to excuse himself.

Much to Adèle's dislike, they were left alone with each other.