Sorelle (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 4

"I'll put this back..." Lovina quickly grabbed the chest containing the letter, bottle and ring and began walking towards the basement door, avoiding as much eye contact with Francis.

'Damn it! Why did I have to be so curious and open this chest!' He probably wanted no one to see this! She thought as she made her way to the door. Her hands reached the door knob but stopped as a pair of hands touched her shoulders. As her instincts told her, Lovina quickly jumped around just to see Francis in front of her.

He looked at the chest for a moment and sighed softly. He knew she had probably read the note and maybe wanted to know what it was. Making his final decision, he decided to tell the young girl the history of this chest.

"You don't have to put it back. In fact, I might as well tell you about it. But I warn you, it is a very long story." Francis said. "I'll listen." Lovina replied. He nodded as he led Lovina over the lounge. The chest was placed on the table and Francis began opening it.

He looked at the contents inside the chest once more and picked up the bottle of flower petals. "Do you recognize what type of flower petals these are?" Francis said holding the bottle close to his face. Lovina shook her head. He glanced at her then looked back at the bottle.

"These are, or should I say were, the petals of a lily." He looked at Lovina to see if she was listening. "Once, there was a young man who lived in a large house. The house was falling apart and had gotten dusty over the years so the man hired a maid. When the maid had came to his door, his heart began pounding. She was beautiful."

"The man and woman. Was it you and the girl Jeanne?" Francis lifted an eyebrow. "You read it?" Refering to the letter. Lovina looked away in denial. "No-yes, well, only a bit. I didn't pay much attention to learn French. I only saw the name of the girl."

Francis nodded. "That's fine. The lovely moi will teach you the language of love later." He smirked as Lovina slowly backed up in her chair. She was too lazy to learn another language, let alone anything, especially from this French bastard.

"She cleaned up the house in no time and always took care of the flowers. Everyday she came and everyday I fell in love. She would always greet me with a smile but that was all. Jeanne was of a lower class therefore she and I couldn't interact with eachother much."

"But rules were meant to be broken as they say, non?" Francis said, repeating the words of a Prussian man he knew.

"Now, back on to the story. Our social classes were very different but I knew she and I belonged together. I began talking with her and with that conversation, our relationship grew. Everyday I came back to the house from my work, I would always bring back a single lily for Jeanne. When ever a lily was about to die, she would always pluck the petals and put then inside glass bottles."

He handed Lovina the bottle with petals inside. "I never knew why she did this but she once told me, 'What is a flower without it's petals?' I never did understand what she meant but she was always a wise one when it came to words.

Once when I had went into town, the people avoided me. Their suspicious whispers could be heard as I walked by. I stopped at a bar to meet with a friend. He was a Prussian general named Gilbert Beilschmidt. We talked and drank, but as he went on rambling about his love Elizabeta, a single sentence from a man who passed me made me stop.

'...that Jeanne, she's a witch they say...'

I had ignored them, thinking it was just a rumor. When I had gotten home, I found Jeanne standing in front of my door crying. I led her inside and she began to tell me of her story.

She lived in Domrémy*, a town in northeast France. One day, her father and mother mysteriously died. The people spread rumors of her of being a witch. Just as she overheard that the people were plotting her death, she ran away.

She wandered from town to town for five years and found a job here when I was hiring a maid. She was scared, she knew the rumor would spread but stayed with me. She loved me and I loved her.

I then decided to marry her. If we married, maybe the rumors would stop. In the middle of the night, I began writing a letter of proposal to her. I sealed it inside an envelope and waited the next day to propose."

He grabbed the letter and set it on the table. He also took out the ring. "This was supposed to be her ring." Lovina dared not to touch it. She felt no right to.

"But then that night, she came into my room and said something to me that had my heart stop. 'Get up tomorrow early in the morning, and earlier than you did today, and do the best that you can. Always stay near me, for tomorrow I will have much to do and more than I ever had, and tomorrow blood will leave my body above the breast**'

I could not sleep that night and when morning came, an angry crowd stood in front of my house. I looked over to Jeanne who was by my side. Her eyes were full of sadness but she somehow was still able to smile.

'Please don't come after me.' Then, she walked out the door and was engulfed by the raging towns people. Despite what she said, I had went after her clutcing the letter in my hands. I followed the crowd into the town center. I crawled my way through the crowd and froze when I saw my Jeanne upon the stage.

The rising sun behind casting a shadow of the guillotine over her figure. The cheering crowd and the speech given by the preacher I could not hear. Only the sound of silence as her neck was positioned below the hanging blade.

I began to move closer as I saw her lips move. Heart beating as fast as it could as I got closer. The crowd had silenced as a guard had walked over to the rope that carried the blade.

'Wait! Before you end me, Priest, please pray for me.' The request had confused the Priest but the request was granted. When he had ended the prayer, the gaurd gripped the rope, untied it and,

'Je t'aime, Francis.' She whispered as the blade came down forcefully above her neck and beheaded the love of my life. Tears were running down my eyes. I cried silently as the crowd celebrated. And that was and is my first and last love, Jeanne."

Lovina felt as if she was going to cry. She placed her hands over her eyes and wiped off tears that began to form. She never understood love, she had thought is was a waste of time, but she knew she was right about one thing. It caused pain.

"Say, Lovina, what if Feliciana were to fall in love?" Francis looked at her curiously. Lovina couldn't imagine her dear sister finding a lover, and if she did, call her overprotective but she would never allow it.

"I won't allow it." Lovina stated. She placed the items back inside the chest and closed it, then handed it back to Francis.

"Keep it, I insist." Francis handed it back to Lovina. "You never know when it might help you. Now, I haven't shown you and your sister's room yet haven't I?" Lovina shook her head.

She looked over him at the luggage that still stood by the door. "Now, hurry, I have an important meeting later." Lovina nodded. Francis helped her with the luggage and headed up the stairs.

*Actual town in France, birthplace of Joan of Arc.
**Quote by Joan of Arc (Jeanne d'Arc)