a change of heart | e.k

Chapter One

Nobody knew she carried a sword with her everywhere she went.

Well, she supposed that wasn't entirely true. Her mother knew. It'd been her who'd prompted her to start in the first place. But the one person who she would've truly cared to know didn't. Her father.

Her late father.

He'd died just months before. In their beautiful Acadian land, his corpse had lain where the children played everyday by the shore while the men fished. In fact, they'd been the one who'd brought them the news of his death. The poor Acadian children, who'd never even seen a pistol before, much less a lifeless man.

She and her mother had immediately known who'd been responsible.

Her father had been preparing them for something such as that to happen. He'd been something of a hero, you see. Only, he'd rarely done his saving on their little island. There was no threat of danger there. No, he'd spent his time in a place far more vulnerable.

New York City.

It was where he'd go when fishing season was over. Whether it be a way to eventually get money, she didn't know, but it was what had ultimately gotten him killed.

Her father had taught her mother to wield a sword. Now, her mother was teaching her. Her father had left the world with business unfinished, and so it was her and her mother's job to tie up all the loose ends without getting killed themselves.

For the kids.

There were three of them. Léocadie, Annette and Madeleine. The three youngest of the Beaulieu family. They were hers, and she'd be dead before she let anyone set a single finger on them.

New York wasn't as nice as her island. Sure, it'd been a pleasant change of scenery at first, until the sound of traffic began keeping her up at night. Not to mention the fact that everyone seemed so very hostile. It hadn't taken long for her to tire of the place. Within days, she was wishing to be able to return to her beloved house where she'd spent her days reaping what they'd grown over the summer.

But alas, they had a job to do.

Speaking of, her mother seemed to be saying her final goodbyes to the girls. She wasn't leaving for good, of course, but she was splitting away for a little while. She'd gone into great detail as to why she couldn't bring any of them along to where she was headed. It'd taken enough effort just to convince her to let the eldest help out. Which was why she, too, was preparing to take off. Since the girls couldn't be left alone for so long, she'd made a promise to keep them safe while their mother was gone. She'd no idea how it'd affect her own job, but she figured she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

Odalie Beaulieu — their mother — placed one last kiss on little Madeleine's head before standing. Madeleine was the youngest of them all, followed closely by Annette, and then Léocadie. Évangéline had come quite a while before all three of them, and so she'd always thought of them as triplets. They weren't, but they were close enough in age.

"Behave," their mother warned them.

Three heads bobbed enthusiastically. "We will. Nous serons bons, maman."

Évangéline smiled slightly at the sound of her mother tongue. No matter how far from home they travelled, they would always have a piece of their heritage with them — their French language. Nothing could ever take that away from them.

Their mother smiled gently before approaching her. "Tu sais quoi faire?"

You know what to do?

Évangéline nodded, straightening her spine. "I wouldn't forget." Her mother shot her a look. That look, telling her to repeat it back to her anyway, just to make sure.