Chapter VI
"La danse sous le coucher de soleil"
The Dance Beneath The Sunset
("Tu ne te moqueras pas de moi Elodie.")
"You will not make a Mockery of Me Elodie."she nodded lightly, as she held her breath, tightening her corset.
("Tu m'entends, ma fille? Assez de ce Jack Nonsense, tu ne vieillis pas.")
"You Hear me Girl? Enough of this Jack Nonsense, you are not getting any older."
("..Je souhaite être courtisé par Jack, Père.")
"..I wish to be courted by Jack, Father."("La vie ne consiste pas en ce que tu souhaites, mais ce que tu dois faire. Ne me déçois pas.")
"Life is not about what you wish, but what you must do. Do not disappoint me."
He hovered over Elodie, forcing his hands to her shoulders, forcing her to sit down. He leans to speak into her ear,
his voice as callous as it always was.
("..Vous ferez ce que vous allez dire.")
"..You will do what you will told."Elodie glared at her reflection in the mirror, more importantly, she glared at the man who stood behind her.
She said nothing more as the tears collected in her eyes, the thoughts of running scanned her mind, her father took a
breath, lightening his voice. Not because he felt remorse, but because he felt his daughter was soon to rebel. He attempted to speak sweetly, but it was so out of his nature, that it sounded ominous and almost toxic to her ear. She flinched from words, from his touch, for good reasons beyond the obvious.
("Une jolie fille comme toi Elodie, mérite mieux que ce que je peux te donner, ou une racaille comme Jack pourrait te donner ...
Il a fallu que je tire quelques faveurs de Madame Lavine pour vous confectionner cette robe. Viens un cher, je suis ton père, et
c'est tout ce que je demande. ")
" A Pretty girl like you Elodie, Deserves better than What I can give you, Or A scum like Jack could give you...
I had to pull a couple... favors... with Madame Lavine to even make you this dress. Come one dear, I am your father, and
this all I ask."She said nothing more, taking a deep breath as she relaxed her breath, stepping out the door. Her father made no motion to
stop her, for she knew she was as weak as she was obedient, the two seemed to go hand in hand. She knew the road, quite well to the manor house. She had taken the route multiple times when she and Jack were children. He'd take off his hat that was three sizes too big for his head, and point, at the building, his smile unfaltering, as she presented it to Elodie as his own.
Perhaps because in some other life, they had dreamed of it being so. She remembered him gesturing to the front porch once,
and stating.
("Là, juste là. Ce premier pas est l'endroit où je vais te voir, chaque jour quand je rentre à la maison. Avec un livre dans un bras,
et notre enfant dans l'autre. ")
"There, Right There. That First Step is where I'm going to see you, every day when I return home. With a book in one arm,
and our child in the other."As she stepped on the same stair, years later. She frowned, knowing that by stepping on it now, the dream she had once had
would likely never come true.
As she stepped up, she glanced at the guard, who was too busy chatting with one of the local wealthy women, to pay the street rat, any notice. She flattened her gown. Stepping into the life of luxury for the first time, was a lot to take in.
The walls were high as if reaching up to the gods, the windows were broad as if one could see all of the port city in one
glance. Fur was everywhere, to display wealth, and crystals were used in merely everything possible to ensure jealousy.
The women were painted in their faces to hide their age and forecast a false use, their dresses were enlarged to hide the
fact they had no curves, and amongst these women, stood Elodie. The malnourished child, with the stark blonde hair, deepest ocean eyes, and a dress made of linen, simple and plain as the unpainted features that dawned her face. It was not long,
before she caught the attention of the wandering eyes, from the Noblewomen. She stepped out, trying to fit in, however,
every step was jarring, and only made evident of the fact, that the girl was certainly not meant to be there.
It was not, however until the music started once more, and every woman had a match, and every step had a purpose.
Elodie stood by the wall, her lips pursed, as much as she tried to hide it, the girl was apologetically bored.
She was staring out, watching the pairs dance, lost in thought, lost in the rhythm, She barely noticed when the man approached her.
A man with a polished black suit and a roguish smile approached her, it was evident he was confident in every word,
every action that he ever took.
("Puis-je avoir cette danse, Mademoiselle?")
"May I Have this dance, Miss?"Elodie nodded silently, sheepishly. She didn't wish to dance with the man, nor even be in his presence. But she did so,
taking his hand in her own. He was swift, Elodie was clumsy. He was confident, Elodie was uncomfortable. She wanted nothing more for this moment to end.
He smirked down to her, making an excuse to get close to her, to mutter into her ear.
("Tu sais, la plupart des femmes s'évanouiraient en ce moment. Ce n'est pas à chaque instant que tu arrives à danser avec un homme de haute stature, comme moi.")
"You know, most women would be swooning in this moment. It is not every moment you get to dance with a man of high stature, such as myself. "
Elodie took a breath, turning her head away from the man somewhat.
("... Je ne suis pas comme la plupart des femmes .)
"...I am unlike most women.."He scoffed.
("Toutes les femmes se ressemblent ... Ne prétendez pas que vous êtes unique, Miss. Je sais qui vous êtes, oui. Elodie Eppinette,
une femme éduquée, débrouillarde et autoproclamée, quand vous êtes simplement un streetrat, désirant réclamer un
Titre. ")
" All women are alike...Do not pretend like you are unique, Miss. I know exactly who you are, yes. Elodie Eppinette,
a resourceful and self-proclaimed educated woman, when merely you are nothing more than a street rat, wishing to claim a
title. "Elodie Arched a brow, somewhat defensively, still dancing with the man, her steps somewhat more aggressive as the dance progresses.
("... Alors dis-moi, pourquoi je ne m'évanouis pas?")
"... Then tell me, why I am non swooning?"
("Tu ne t'évanouis pas, ou tu ne t'admets pas tout simplement?")
" Are you not swooning, or just not admitting to yourself?"Elodie smirked at that then, almost evilly.
("... Je ne suis pas évanouie et, contrairement à la plupart des femmes, je n'ai aucune honte ni aucune hésitation à te nier.)
"... I am non swooning, and unlike most women, I have no shame nor hesitation in denying you."
She took a step, lifting her chin to the man somewhat, stepping past the man.
("... Tu vas le regretter.")
"... You'll regret that."
He shouts, the entire ballroom stops, to stare at Elodie. She glances across the crowd, and then past them to the open door.
She smirks, seeing the door open, the sun setting at the Horizon.
"I might regret it for the consequences, but never for the action."and with that, she stepped past the silent room, the dirt clinging to her dress, and the smirk clinging on the corners of her cheeks.
She was a woman of many regrets,