Beneath the Porcelain Mask

35. A Lily Amongst Thorns

HOW LONG HAS IT EVEN BEEN, I'VE LOST TRACK
In summary, this is why there's been such a long gap between chapters, for which I'm very, very sorry!
1. Exams
2. Travel
3. Exams
4. General running around
And 5. E X A M S

BUT! I have returned! And I think part of the reason I didn't want to post this was because I haven't had time to go through and edit it, if you can call what I do editing. It still hasn't been edited really, but it really can't wait any longer.

Also, a year on from writing the first draft to posting this, and I still kinda cringe at the fact that I named the supporting characters after Les Mis ones?? Is that a problem to any of you guys, because I can change it if necessary.

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"Ah, so this is the famous Nikita." Jean Desrosiers stood from his seat at the head of the dining table as I entered on Jeremy's arm. He offered a weak smile and reached for Jeremy, drawing him from me into a fatherly embrace. It was only once he let him go that I found myself being studied again. The lingering, wary gaze he cast upon my mask didn't go unnoticed.

"A fire broke out in my mistress's house when I worked for her," I explained. "I survived, but my face...."

He gave a curt nod, clearly still unconvinced, and gestured to the seat beside Jeremy, who'd sat at his uncle's left and was already tying a napkin around his neck. "Please. Dinner will be along shortly."

The dinner was lavish, but quiet on my behalf. Jeremy did most of the talking, explaining that I'd been a maid in Rouen and emphasising just how much of the world I'd seen, mainly to Marius, as if it were his cousin he was trying to win over. I glued my eyes to my plate, feeling Count Desrosiers's stare burning into me, sometimes for minutes on end, and didn't speak a word until the final course had been finished.

I was just about to excuse myself to my bedroom in the hopes of an early night when Cossette caught my arm.

"Jeremy told us in a letter that you play the violin with great expertise!" she said, her smile as bright and pearly as it had been earlier. "Please play for me! Whichever composition you choose, and I shall accompany you on the piano!"

I withdrew my arm from her grip and plastered a smile over my lips. "Actually, I had been wanting to take my leave to bed. I hope your husband and father-in-law won't mind, but I'm sure they won't miss me."

She seemed downhearted at that but stepped back and nodded. "I suppose it has been quite the tiring, strenuous day for you. I shall tell them you have retired for the night."

It was with a sense of relief flooding through me that I trekked up the mahogany stairs to the second floor and found my room, where a servant had left my belongings. I trailed my hands over the carved furniture, the chest of drawers, the armoire, the vanity table and looked out at the view of rolling vineyards in the darkness of the night from the large window, feeling so out of place in a world I was very shortly going to be a part of. Perhaps it would look more inviting in the morning. Perhaps then, I would see the home Jeremy did.

It took twenty minutes to change into my nightclothes, and only once I was comfortable did I allow myself to flop into the four-poster bed. How had a scullery, kitchen and opera maid such as I come to lie in such a place? Moreover, why had Jeremy stayed at the Opera House and in the clammy apartment he rented in Paris when this was available?

I rolled onto my side beneath the silk covers, missing the hardness of my old bed and the thin pillow and hoping beyond hope that tomorrow would present me with a clearer, fresher vision.