Phoebe and the Traitor

Lisa Livia: 1

Lisa Livia Fortunato stood on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower feeling as if she could conquer the world, or at least a small enough portion of it for her to be happy, which was an earth-shattering concept for her. Her lover, Lucien's, arms were wrapped around her from behind, his solidly built body warm against her back. Her hands cradled a hot cup of coffee in a cardboard container. The combination of warm arms and hot nectar of the Gods offset the early morning chill and she thought for a moment: really, could it get any better?

Lisa Livia had dark hair that tumbled over her shoulders and olive skin, giving her an exotic, Mediterranean look which fit in here in Paris. Her New Jersey accent didn't.

There was no one else on this level as the Tower didn't open to the general public for another couple of hours. Dawn was breaking to the east over Paris and she swore that even at this altitude, she could smell freshly baked baguettes from the shops that were swinging open their shutters in the streets. The weather was warm, the trees were budding with the first green of spring, and it promised to be a beautiful day.

Paris. Lisa Livia could hardly believe she was here.

"I know we got in late last night," Lucien said, "but I wanted you to see this. I love watching the sun come up over the city. Paris is called the City of Light and most enjoy the evening, but I prefer the early morning. The quiet. The promise of the day ahead." He let go of her with one hand and pointed. "There is where we spent the night. The house on Rue St. Charles has been in our family for over a millennium."

"It's worth getting up for," Lisa Livia said, although it had been from a seriously comfortable, canopied, bigger than king-sized feather bed, the likes of which Lisa Livia had never known existed. Plus, there'd been the naked presence of Lucien, so it had been with great difficulty that he'd been able to entice her to get dressed and accompany him on the pre-dawn walk to the Tower. Vicente, one of Lucien's soldiers and friends, had been waiting to unlock the entrance for them and with the most thoughtful cup of coffee.

It had been a wonderful night with very little sleep. Lucien's arm wound had bled a little from his exertions, but Lisa Livia respected a man who could take a little pain for his pleasure with her. Lucien sported a handlebar mustache that was the trademark of the soldiers in the Andovan Army; all twelve of them. Somehow, they pulled it off without looking like fools, but rather manly men. Dark-haired, ruggedly built, Lucien sported the wound in his arm from the recent kerfuffle at Two Rivers in South Carolina involving Lucien, Shane, and primarily Phoebe defeating usurpers to the Andovan throne. That wound was added to the scar from an old bullet wound absorbed on a peace-keeping mission in Africa years ago.

"So, M'lady," Lucien asked as he held her tight once more, "what do you think of Paris so far?"

"Not too bad," Lisa Livia understated. "How'd Vicente wrangle the early opening?"

"There are perks to being in a royal family," Lucien allowed. "The French have always been partial to my mother's side, the Embrie's, considering our lineage and affiliation with France. We exchange favors. It was not difficult."

"Beats the mob in New Jersey," Lisa Livia said. "At best, you can get a free sausage at the local butcher. But didn't the French chop the heads off their royals?"

"Some," Lucien allowed. "There was a difficult period of time. But Andova was far from that not just geographically, but in temperament. We have always been very stable because of the Great Charter. We have never had a king to get his head chopped off. Just the Duke and Duchess, alternating every year for hundreds of years. No heads lost."

Lisa Livia was trying to downplay her happiness because a life of heartbreak and betrayal, especially by one's mother, isn't easily let go off in less than twenty-four hours of bliss with a good man in Paris who was granted favors because he was part of a royal family. She was content and happy and thus, not surprised when a voice spoke up from the shadows behind them.