Protection

Chapter Twenty Nine

Alexander’s boots hit the land, and he tossed a look over his shoulder to Adrien.

Deep in his chest, he was extremely uneasy, though he assumed that his apprehension was due to the fact that this man-

“I hope she is alive.”

Alex turned, his stomach absolutely dropping.

“No more talk of her being dead. We’re going to get to her.”

“They show no mercy, monsieur.”

The reality of the situation tugged at him, but Alex refused to think that she might be dead.

“And I know nothing of mercy,” Alex murmured bleakly, and turned his face to the city, wondering where, where, if anywhere here, Alayna Bordreaux could be.

“You are charged with high treason and murder of our beloved revolutionary Gustave-”

Alayna stared hard at the judge as he read off the list of her many transgressions. Sins, crimes, she never would have imagined. Her heart sank when she glanced about and saw finely dressed people, men and women, eyeing her with pure revulsion. As if, she thought, hate could be pure.

   At this point, she actually wished she would have murdered Gustave, as well as Vachon and the rest of the bloody brutes. By that fact, she would be seated in a fair trial and she would not feel so betrayed.

  What betrayed the correct word? She dared not breathe, dared not move. Though she died to scratch her scalp, where the guests of the jail had made themselves comfortable…

   She hadn’t even had lice when on the streets of Dover. Even then, she hadn’t been so tormented. Then, she had hoped it would be over. She was safely in England. And when she was seventeen, England had been on par with heaven.

   “The public demands the death penalty.”

Alayna swallowed.

“You, Alayna Bordreaux, are to meet Madame Guillotine at twelve noon, two days from today, at noon precisely. Your execution will be public, so that all people of our fine city may-“

Again, she turned her attention to her own thoughts.

Her only victory was the fact that she had beaten them. They hadn’t found her, not for four years. She had eluded them four long years. Malicious joy crept into her. How much money had they spent to find her? Thousands?

   Yes, this was her victory.

When they had returned her to her cell, she stood, and looked out the barred window.

What a pretty day.

Oh, and how her head tingled and itched! Deliciously, she reached her hands up and dug her nails into her flesh. Laughing bitterly, she thought: “If I was a part of society, they’d gossip if I scratched. I wish they could see me now!”

  Suddenly, as she thought of it, society meant nothing. Her name meant nothing. Her place amid the people was worthless.

   She wished fervently in that moment that she had lived the way she wanted, instead of quivelling and fearing what others thought of her.

  “I certainly make a lot of wishes,” she said to herself. “Perhaps if I hadn’t made so many wishes…”

 No, she would not look back. At least- at least she had heaven and Adrien and her parents to look forward to. Of this, she was certain.