Deja vu.
In the years since she had moved into the Desrosiers family estate with her mother and Brice, she had witnessed her fair share of traumatic moments. Each one was vastly different but they all held the same feeling of melancholy that settled over the family equally. The children had all been together the last time they received a letter from the government addressed to the Marquis. Emile, Emeric, Eglantine, Brice and Brielle. When they were given the news that Armand and Marilene had been executed in Port-a-Lucine, they had clung to each for support, finding the means to move on by strengthening their familial bonds. All they had were each other.
The years change all however, and Emile being the oldest was the first to move on. Marrying as soon as he was able and producing an heir of his own, as was his duty. Eglantine left next, her mind was the sharpest of the brood and the Marquis knew she would benefit from a proper education abroad. Brice went then, a soldier's life called to him. He was devoted to Dementlieu, prepared to fight for his country at any cost. This left Brielle and Emeric at home, relying on one another through thick and thin.
So on one particularly warm day in July, in the year 775, while Brielle sat on the expansive porch of the Desrosiers Estate, partaking in a cool drink, Emeric rode up on his horse. He had been out in the fields surveying the work being done, and had earned a brief respite with his cousin.
“You look absolutely horrid, Emeric.” Brielle chided as her cousin sat down across from her, picking up the glass filled with cool water. He grinned, sweat dripping down his face.
“Be nice, or I will tell Grandfather that I think it best you go out to the fields with me for educational purposes.” Emeric shot back, grinning despite knowing his threat was empty. They had their own duties on the estate, Brielle’s was the fauna while his, the flora.
It was during their laughter at the joke that the sound of hooves galloping towards them caught their attention. They rose together as they saw the uniform. For a brief moment, excitment coursed through Brielle’s entire body. Brice, her brother, he had come home! He had made it home from Ameranthe, despite what everyone had said. He would prove everyone wrong and be welcome home as a hero.
Little did Brielle know, but today would end up being the worst day of her life. As the rider closed the gap between the manse and him, it became glaringly obvious that it was not her brother and just like that, the wind had left her sails and she found herself reaching out for the table nearby to steady herself.
“Announce yourself and your purpose here, Monsieur!” Emeric shouted towards the rider, positioning himself in front of Brielle.
The galloping horse slowed, mere feet from the cousins. Brielle could hear him clear his throat, preparing to speak and when he did so, there was a solemn quality to it.
“I have an urgent missive for the Marquis of Valey, Monsieur. From Amaranthe.”
The rest of the conversation went by in a blur to Brielle. She could hear Emeric talking with the rider, but she seemed unable to make out the words, all she could hear was the blood pumping in her ears as dread overcame her. Emerics voice became louder as he seemed to argue with the messenger, yet still, no words were discernable.
It was in that moment, that every memory she had of her beloved older brother, flashed before her eyes. Their childhood, their losses and triumphs, every conversation they had ever had. Every pep talk. Every tear they shed, or hug they shared. It all came flooding back to Brielle as the voices around her began to clear. Unable to stop it, tears began to streak down her cheeks and finally, the eternal optimist of the family, found her voice.
“Is my brother dead?”
