Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

The First Goodbye

France, 1693

Ysanne didn't stir as Edmond Dantès climbed out of bed and went to the window, pushing aside the curtains so he could look at the predawn world.

The moon hung low, the stars starting to fade, and everything was calm and still.

Edmond wished he felt as calm.

He glanced back at Ysanne.

She lay on her side, her hair spilled across the pillow, the covers twisted around the curve of her hip. He was still aware of her beauty, but it no longer moved him the way it once had.

Something had changed.

They'd been lovers for ten years – first, travelling around France, then moving to England where they'd made their fortune among the British aristocracy, before finally moving back to France, and there'd been a time that Edmond thought their love would last forever.

Ysanne had taught him how to survive in a way that François hadn't – how to hunt animals, how to choose suitable human targets on the streets. She'd helped him understand what had happened to François, why he'd changed so much in the weeks leading up to his death.

It had broken Edmond's heart to realise that Frédéric Auclair's daughter was probably not the first person that François had murdered. Ysanne had explained that, as François had descended into a rabid blood-lust, he'd most likely been killing people on the streets for a while, which was where he'd been all those nights where he disappeared by himself. Then she'd comforted Edmond while he grieved for François, because despite all the damage François had caused, despite the blood on his hands, Edmond still loved him.

Ysanne had been his rock for years, his dearest friend before they became lovers, and he did still love her. Just not in the same way.

Things had changed, and he didn't even know how, just that they had.

Ysanne stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw him looking at her, but it was sad at the edges.

Edmond realised then that whatever he was feeling, Ysanne felt it too.

Maybe he should have felt relieved that he wasn't going to hurt her, but instead a great chasm of anxiety opened up inside.

Before finally admitting their feelings for each other, they'd travelled as friends for three years – Edmond couldn't imagine what he was supposed to do without her.

"Come here," Ysanne said.

Edmond slid across the bed to lie beside her, looking up at her.

Ysanne brushed strands of raven hair from his face. "It's alright," she said.

"Is it?"

"Yes," Ysanne said firmly. "This is what life is, Edmond – people meeting and people parting. This is simply our time to part. Nothing last forever."

Edmond held her hand. "But I can't imagine my life without you."

Even if he no longer loved her romantically, she was still the most important person in his world, and the thought of not seeing her again – he couldn't comprehend it.

Ysanne shifted position until her hair mingled with his. "This won't be the last time we meet, my winter boy. We'll find each other again, one day."

"What makes you so sure?" Edmond said.

"We found each other before, didn't we?"

"Through pure luck."

"Then pure luck will bring us back together again."

"I don't think it's as simple as that," Edmond said.

Ysanne sat up, still holding his hand. "We both know that this relationship is coming to an end, don't we?"

It hurt to hear it laid out so bluntly, but it was true.

"We've reached a point where we both want different things from life, and there's nothing wrong with that. We can't stay together because we're afraid to be on our own," Ysanne continued.

"What if I don't know who I am without you?" Edmond asked.

He'd thought he knew who he was when he was with François, but then François had become a killer. It had shaken everything in Edmond's world.

Ysanne kissed his forehead. "Then it's time you found out."

Edmond didn't know what to say to that. Part of him was so afraid to leave her – although so much time had passed since she'd crept out of the house that spring morning and left him with nothing but a brooch on her pillow, but he suddenly felt like that eighteen-year-old boy again.

And yet, part of him was curious – maybe even excited – at the prospect of finding a new path in the world, one that he had to forge completely by himself.

He'd come a long way from the peasant boy he'd once been, and maybe he had a lot further still to go.

"Can we spend one more day together?" he said. "I don't think I'm quite ready to let you go."

Ysanne smiled gently. "If that's what you want."

"Just . . . promise me something," Edmond said, fixing her with a hard look. "Don't sneak off like you did last time. Please."

Ysanne stared back at him for a long moment. "I won't."

"Promise me," Edmond insisted.

Things had changed so much since the first time they met. Now that Edmond was a vampire too, he felt equal to Ysanne in a way that he hadn't when he was human. It had hurt the first time she'd abandoned him. But if she did it again . . .

Ysanne cupped his face with one hand. "My dear winter boy, I promise. No matter what happens, no matter what the future holds, I will never again leave without saying goodbye."

For the first time in a long time, Edmond wondered why she hadn't said goodbye that first time, then he dismissed that thought. It was in the past – it didn't matter now.

He gazed up at the woman who had been his lover, who was his best friend, and realised in that moment that they would never be lovers again. Whatever fire had flared between them was gone now, and it wouldn't come back. But that didn't matter either, because romantic love wasn't the only kind, nor was it necessarily the most important.

He would always have Ysanne's friendship, and wherever their lives took them, whatever paths they found themselves travelling, Ysanne really believed that those paths would one day meet again.

Edmond had to believe that too.

As promised, I'm uploading another Edmond story right now :)