Featured on @HistoricalFiction @NARomance
🥇2023 Rose Gold Awards
🥇Literary Book Awards
Story of Edith&Andre:
"O'Lady Liberty divine!
For thee alone, my life I'd resign:
I beseech all to carve thy name so fair,
On my tombstone, for all to stare...
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The summer of Year II of the Republic would linger in the memories of Parisians for a very long time.
Since the beginning of July, not a single drop of rain had fallen. The weather was dauntingly scorching and dry, as if the air enveloping the whole city was ablaze, casting a suffocating crimson hue in the eyes of poets.
Grass withered, birdsong grew faint, and the world sank deeper into a sombre haze. Whether it was the gavel on the club's podium or the guillotine on the Place of the Revolution, they had lost their vigour, dull and listless, allowing time to pass by meaninglessly.
Yet in the corners, under the shade of trees, there were constant whispers and restlessness, a brewing storm in the shadows. No words were spoken, but everybody knew - an unprecedented downpour was about to descend from the heavens, sweeping across feverish Paris, destroying all that had been built.
On the eighth day of Thermidor, murmurs emerged from the distance as dusk approached. Horses foamed at the mouth, dense dark clouds descended, and the leaden sky weighed heavily upon every heart, transforming the entire city into a colossal, metallic coffin. The wild wind whipped up dust, the withered leaves rustled and crackled, and all things silently awaited in restless anticipation.
It was not until deep into the night that the first lightning bolt finally cleaved the firmament, and a torrential rain poured down, resounding upon the parched earth.
Edith failed to fall asleep tonight. She sat on the edge of her bed, cradling her knees, her head leaning against the wall, motionless. The blood in the girl's veins, which had always flowed briskly and evenly, now surged and churned like the tempest outside.
A gentle tap seemed to echo on the window glass, blending with the rhythmic patter of raindrops, almost indistinguishable. In an instant, she sat up straight, holding her breath, listening intently.
"Edith? It's me," a hoarse voice called from outside the window, its words nearly drowned in the cacophony of the storm.
But all at once, she recognised that voice.
She leaped to the window, but her trembling hand couldn't push open the pane.
The person outside pounded heavily once more, "Allow me in, Edith! I don't seek your forgiveness! Just let me see you one last time!"
Edith, overwhelmed with emotion, pushed open the window, allowing the raging wind and rain to unscrupulously rush in. She grasped his pleading arms and forcefully pulled him into the room, then the drenched figure fell into her embrace. She held him tightly, feeling his body burning hot, shivering in the scorching heat of July.
They didn't exchange a word, only kissed each other's lips with reckless abandon. In those few minutes, their kisses were more, deeper than all the kisses they had shared throughout the entire year.
"I'm sorry, Edith!" After the initial wave of passion subsided, he rested his feverish forehead against hers, but averted his gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. "I tried so hard, running around for Citizeness Saint-Clemont. But in the end, I failed to save her life. I had to leave; why didn't I fall on the battlefield? I thought I would! At least then we wouldn't have to face such a cruel separation like tonight!"
