Adelaide DuPont
I'm still standing frozen over the body when Ruby runs outside, her fiery eyes full of emotion and repressed shock. Sapphire's death should affect me similarly, yet the gruesome sight barely surprises me, thanks to James.
"Why are you even here?" the girl hisses.
No, not here, as in the gardens or even the location of Sapphire's death. She asks me why, actually, I accompanied her and her friends from the citadel in the first place. Stricken by grief, she graspes for any plausible evidence against the wide-eyed girl who stands across from her and feigns the victim, but all her leads will always result in frustration and loose ends.
I meet her gaze, challenging her with my innocence, while a furious blaze lights a forest fire in her green eyes. Her grief consumes her like a new sort of violence, and she can't even say goodbye to her dearest friend without this outsider watching from the corner. To her, I have no right to grieve someone I can barely say I knew; she believes that Sapphire was both gentle and jealous and far too complex to understand in a few mere months. I beg to differ.
The morning had been so pleasant, until James stole its warmth. He always finds a way to take everything from me, even the bird-like girl who often felt like my only source of empathy. Sure, I didn't know Sapphire as long as the rest of them, but that doesn't mean she can't be just as meaningful to me.
Perhaps coming to Paris was a bad idea.
"I'm sorry. I really am."
I leave her with my condolences, turning away to head back inside. It's funny to think that, moments before, Emerald and I were resting pleasantly, prepared to work things out between us. What will happen now? Ruby is and has always been a threat, an inescapable liability in my plans. The night in the dungeons was an honest mistake, but she latches onto it as evidence against me with an unrivaled ambition.
When I step back indoors, Emerald is leaning forward over the kitchenette counter with his elbows propped up and his head in his hands. He quickly straightens upon my arrival, but can't force himself to smile. Fresh vegetables from the market — onions, leeks, celery, carrots, parsnips, turnips, rutabagas, and potatoes — along with parsley, thyme, and bay leaves clutter the countertop, while beef boils in a large pot on the stove. A handwritten cookbook lies open to a traditional pot-au-feu recipe that I suspect once belonged to his mother.
"No one will have an appetite, I know, but I thought I would prepare something for lunch. Just in case," he mutters, more to himself than to me.
Wordlessly, I stride across the kitchen to help him with the food. I skim the recipe on the counter, then begin to cut more vegetables. When grief strikes, I find it easier to deal with the dire facts while my hands are busy.
"Taking on the weight of everyone's grief won't help your own. Dealing with yours only becomes harder."
I see the guilt in his melancholic eyes and feel his regret within my own core. If he's going to dissolve into his destructive mind, I'll go with him, at least, so he won't be alone. I rest the kitchen knife atop my cutting board, shifting toward him slightly.
Emerald sighs, setting down his blade also before turning to face me.
"This is my family, Adelaide; they're all I know anymore."
He raises a hand as if to reach for my arm, though it drops back to his side halfway, as helpless outwardly as he must feel inside.
"If I can't feel for you all and I can't feel for myself, nothing is left for me here. I just — I need a reason," he continues, "You understand that, don't you?"
His amber eyes search my gray steadily, but something like desperation — amorality, even — displaces the equable kindness that often lingers there. This new edge startles me more than anything else today. Without thinking, I pull him into a tight embrace, diffusing into my actions all the unsaid things I wish I could tell him aloud. I feel my eyes water at the same time that I realize maybe I've been expecting this — Sapphire's death — for much longer than I thought.
Emerald looks down to me with an expression I cannot read. When he raises a hand to my cheek and lifts my chin to kiss me, my heart jumps. However, my shock soon melts away into longing, and I wrap an arm around the back of his neck to pull him closer and prolong the moment. We fit together in a way I can't fully understand, though for once I don't feel compelled to seek answers right away. He's all I need.
When Emerald eventually draws away, he does so reluctantly, resting his forehead against mine as if he'd rather just extend our kiss.
"I can't overcook the soup," he sighs, quickly kissing me once more before he backs away and brushes past to stir the pot; after adding the chopped vegetables, he places a lid over the top and lowers the temperature to let everything simmer and soften over a few hours.
He leans back against the counter, then, studying my dulcet mien in silence until he finally offers, "I need some fresh air. Will you walk with me?"
"Of course," I answer sweetly, linking our hands and letting him lead the way outside to the cobblestone streets.
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...
