Adelaide DuPont
For a few hours, I allowed my frustration over Emerald's rejection to distract from my efforts in finding Julian. Now, I must focus again. Voices muffle around me while numbness spreads through my body like poison. I know how to maneuver large crowds with grace, though I can barely tolerate the heat of other foreign bodies pressing against my own. My pale eyes wander the room, fixing on every face as I anticipate Julian's moonlight gaze staring back, however unlikely that is. He's away at some Parisian university now.
With nowhere else to turn, I find myself once again reaching for Emerald's hand. He grounds me. Despite the wealthy blood coursing through my veins, I'm a runaway, unfamiliar with the setting of this place. If my parents taught me anything, it was to never assume anything about the unknown. Of course, James showed me exactly the opposite: if I want something, I need to go out and retrieve it myself. His cool touch lingers in the back of my memory, and I shiver, longing to feel his fingertips skim delicately across my neck once more.
No. James went crazy, insane. Shoving the past aside, I return my attention to the present, to Emerald's hand grasping my own. 'If you ever need a moment of fresh air, just say the word.' His kind words strike deep within me, while the crowd only threatens my personal space more. If anyone could understand, it would be him — another person who grew up around parties and pretenses.
"Excuse me," I murmur politely to Anselm, who cuts off his sentence halfway to nod goodbye to me.
It almost pains me to see how Paris overflows with so many opportunities I never cared to seize before Soventi. Just by paying mind to society for a few days, I've been able to make acquaintanceships first with a Tristram-Leinster and, now, a Saighe. I treasured both their stories in my youth. Anselm's mother Ellowyn and her younger brother lived a lavish childhood that I related to closely, until the tragic murder of their parents ravaged their household. Ellowyn soon became callous and vindictive, driven by survivor's guilt and the secretive double life of an assassin. One particular assignment matched her and Iseult Tristram against each other — a wily fight that ended warmly with long-lasting camaraderie. I recall my father explaining how the strong relationship between the Tristram and Saighe houses is equally as feared as it is envied. Unfortunately, I have no real need for such acquaintances now.
I release my hold from Emerald's hand, vaguely wondering as I quit the room whether Liesl or Anselm know of the situation with James.
The outside air feels cool against my skin, laced with the remnants of a rainy afternoon. Alone, away from the gathering, the quiet atmosphere around me clears my mind of distractions. I strain to picture Julian's face, which blurs more from my memory with every passing day. I can't quite visualize the exact shade of his eyes or the slope of his shoulders. Instead, my attention shifts to the gemstones, and I consciously remind myself that they may be part of the journey, but never the destination — a distraction and a means to an end, each one of them.
"I've always liked this color on you."
My heart stops cold in my chest. I would recognize that voice anywhere: a gelid French murmur withholding any emotion that speaks from somewhere secluded behind me.
Without spinning around in order to avoid acknowledging any fear, I carefully respond, "I had forgotten that."
"Nonsense, Adelaide. You wouldn't forget me."
Suddenly, he stands directly behind me, and I know I need to face him — my James. His face still holds everything and nothing at the same time, but he looks paler, as if the asylum sapped away some of his character. His eyes, at least, remain as dark as night when they meet mine — a rimy midnight blue.
"You look as lovely as ever."
My heart cracks into two, and I quickly look away before my expression reveals something important. I despise how easily I find myself aching for his touch again, now that he's next to me overlooking Paris once more. Déjà vu under starlight.
"How did you get out?" I blurt without thinking.
His eyes darken further, narrowing in warning. I recognize this mood; right now, everything is under his control. However, his temper quickly vanishes again when he smiles softly, shaking the brunette locks away from his eyes. Nausea sinks in my stomach.
"The doctors saw me fit to leave; if I'm mentally well, what reason do I have to stay there?"
"I see."
"You don't believe me," he questions, his smile widening, "And you — how did you get out?"
"Out?"
"The DuPonts are a wealthy family and incredibly good at keeping things hidden; although, when their only daughter disappears from parties and social gatherings, people talk."
"Enough, James."
I glare at him, and silence stretches for a second, before his icy grip fastens painfully upon my upper arm. I gasp, trying to wrench free and only causing myself more pain in the process. A psychotic gleam passes behind his eyes — one I've seen only nine times prior. Then, he leans forward, his mouth mere inches away from my ear.
"You're going to regret what you've done, Adelaide," he whispers, his voice a velvety purr of fury, "I'll find you again."
And then he's gone.
The cool evening air feels far less welcoming since James' appearance, and my mind spins with questions. How was he released? What did he do? How did he find me so quickly? I rotate my arm to study the place where he grabbed me, where imprints of his fingertips dent my pale skin. His return startles me worse than I imagined it could, and I suddenly realize how displaced his love really is — closer to possession. As long as no one notices, it won't be a problem.
Overwhelmed, I cover my face with my hands, gritting my teeth against the scream building in my throat. Just when things were beginning to look upward again, James appeared to tip them down. Julian would've known how to distract me. I recognize now that he's far from identical to my estranged lover. His eyes are paler and more slanted. His nose is a bit less straight, and his hair is a few shades lighter. Most importantly, he radiates heat, starkly opposite to James' piercing coldness.
I've lost all perception of time spent away from the party. With an aching heart and shock still coursing through my veins, I lean against the balcony railing and gaze wishfully up to the stars above me. Emerald would understand what I'm feeling. I catch myself hoping he'll discover me out here. He always finds just the right words to ease my mind, as if he knows what I want to hear better than I know myself.
YOU ARE READING
Adelaide
Mystery / Thriller"My parents heard about James' mental state and worried it was a contagious disease that I would eventually succumb to as well. So, they sent me here, before I could end up where he is now. That certainly would've damaged their reputation." "You've...
