Swear By The Stars

Chapter Seven

Anxious to see Jean Prouvaire in the empty audience after the rehearsal of La Sylphide, Sylvia had been roughly rubbing off her powder and rouge when Patria forced herself into the dressing room, practically tearing her gown from her body. She gasped out, frantically dressing herself and rubbing her makeup away on her shawl. 

 Sylvia stood immediately and grasped Patria's arms. She found that her friend was trembling and her evergreen eyes spoke of untold horrors. Sylvia knew immediately what was going on; this had happened before. Patria's father often came to find her at the ballet rehearsals. Sylvia had little connection to her friend's past. She had grown in an environment of warmth and love with parents that granted her warm embraces and doted upon her abilities. 

"Go back to the dorms, Patria. Hide there, you'll be safe." Sylvia advised her panicked friend, helping gather her belongings. 

Patria nodded and placed her hands on Sylvia's own arms. "Be safe, too, Dear Sylvia." 

"Go! Run!" Her fear did not appear to be stunted, but she followed suit, rushing to the frigid night with the unraveling ends of her skirts fluttering in her wake. 

As Sylvia sat to finish rubbing her makeup away, she realized that it had been unwise to let Patria go by herself. Her thoughts of her beloved Jean fled from her mind and began to circle around her dear friend's safety. 

Dressing as rapidly as Patria had, Sylvia wrapped her blue shawl over her shoulders. She rushed out into the streets, which were somewhat sparse in population during this time of the evening. As she ambulated, she regretted not having a sort of deterrent object or something to use as a weapon. She had never faced Patria's father before, but from the tales she had heard, it may have been wise to defend oneself. 

Upon arriving at the dorm house, all was as it should be. It was as silent as nothing and this absence of a sound was what scared Sylvia. Security and familiarity have sounds of their own, whether it’s the voice of a loved one or the melody of a beloved song and Sylvia could not find any upon the scene, but she stepped inside, trying to convince herself that the suspicion meant nothing.  

Sylvia immediately felt uneasy as she entered into the dorm house. She considered herself practical and thought fearing the dark was foolish, but she still felt something that caused the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand on edge and goosebumps to prickle upon her fair skin. Floor boards creaked beneath her slight feet and she looked into her room, expecting Patria to be laying in her bed or sitting with her back against the wall and legs out as she often did when she thinking, but there was no one there. A slight whisper of her friend’s name followed by silence confirmed that. 

In the gentle moonlight, Sylvia noticed the rectangular shape of a carefully folded letter on her bed. She thought perhaps it was there by mistake, but the yellowed parchment bore her name in the calligraphic handwriting that could not belong to her Jean Prouvaire. She picked it up and examined it carefully. The sender's address upon it came from Switzerland.  

Switzerland? She wondered. She knew her mother was Swiss. She wondered if that had anything to do with this letter upon her bed. Her thoughts had gone from Jehan to Patria to now whomever had given her this letter. 

The seal had already been torn and she supposed that the Beareux's were simply curious to see what the letter entailed. Her eyes flickered across the page. It was dated one week ago. She narrowed her golden eyes to read the missive before her. 

Dear Sylvia,

I did not until recently discover that my sister had a daughter before she died whilst living in France. I have also recently been informed of the dire state of the Paris Opera ballet company. Being part of your family, I want to ensure that you are taken care of. I live in Switzerland with my wife and my two daughters. We are also well acquainted with young apprentices that would suit as fine husbands should you wish to marry.