The Companion (18+)

33. Secret Letters

Étienne had his fists deeply buried in his pockets as he made his way through the third floor of the chateau. Amelie had forced him out of Aurélie's room, stating that he needed to get some rest. Naturally, he had complained and fought to stay, yet his companion's maid kicked him out and ordered him to come back after he had rested. Étienne had no choice but to obey the maid, huffing as he begrudgingly made his way out of the room. The dream he had a few nights prior still lingered on his mind, his mother and the strange woman, who strongly resembled Aurélie, not daring to leave his thoughts.

As Étienne looked up, he realised that he had come to a stop in front of his mother's old room. The door was shut, locked most likely, not a speck of dust or dirt on the wood. Hesitantly Étienne held out his hand, pressing down on the door handle. He was not surprised when the handle didn't budge. It had been well over a year since his father had locked the door, ordering that no one was to enter the room without his permission.

With a sigh Étienne began to turn around, a soft voice forcing him to turn back around.

"Darling, I can let you in, you know."

Caroline stood in her doorway a few rooms away, her arms crossed as she watched her nephew.

"You do not have to. I did not even mean to come here," Étienne said, burying his hands once more in his pockets. "Besides, père would not allow it."

He watched as his aunt disappeared into her room, coming back shortly with a key in her hand. She clicked her tongue as she walked towards him, shaking her head.

"She was your mother and you have every right to go into that room. Your father can say what he wants. And besides, he is away visiting Aurélie's former teacher. Now move aside darling," Caroline ordered, pushing herself between Étienne and the door. She made quick work of unlocking the door, pushing it open and revealing the room that was beyond. Étienne's breath hitched as the scent of his mother, alongside dust, filled his nose. His heart twisted and he looked from the room to his aunt.

"Go on," Caroline said, giving him a gentle push and pressing the key into his hand. "Just make sure to lock it once you leave."

"Thank you," Étienne stammered, watching as his aunt turned around and walked back to her room. He turned back to his mother's room.

After a year of her passing, Étienne noticed that his father did little to change the room. Old clothes were still neatly folded on top of the dresser, while the bed was left unmade as if his mother had gotten up and simply walked out of the room. He felt his heart tug uncomfortably in his chest, looking around and seeing the small hoops of her embroidery projects still resting on the small table next to one of the couches. Her scent still faintly lingered in the room, the familiar smell of elderflowers filling Étienne's nostrils. It pained him to suddenly be in his mother's room once more, and the young vampire almost stepped out, in hopes of burying his feelings and forgetting that his mother was long gone.

Instead, a small bundle of navy cloth resting on top of the fireplace drew his attention. He never recalled its place whenever he visited his mother in her room. Lighting a candle on his way over, the silver cord keeping the cloth in place glimmered in the candlelight and drew Étienne closer. Pulling on the cord, it unravelled and the cloth fell to the side, revealing a small wooden box. The box itself was plain, a simple rose painted on the wooden lid.

Curious, Étienne lifted the lid and came to face with several neatly folded pieces of parchments, each addressed to his mother. Beginning to sort through, he realised that all of them were written by a woman called Margaux. Taking all of the letters out of the box, Étienne walked back towards the couch, sending up dust as he let himself fall onto the cushions. He found the first letter written by Margaux, unfolding it and beginning to read its contents.